NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 351
CHAPTER 351: The Harvester
Yes, this was the question Huang Ti had wanted to ask.
Hearing the voice of the Desolate Demon Lord, Huang Ti turned to look at him and saw a faint smile playing on the Demon Lord’s lips.
The Demon Lord continued, “I designed the carved Dao runes, and your Roaring God is the catalyst to trigger my method.”
“Only the fierce, swift, and condensed power of the Roaring God divine skill can break through this critical node. Without you, Huang Ti, I can’t do it alone.”
The confusion on Huang Ti’s face deepened. He pointed to the ground and asked, “Does any of this make sense? What’s your play here?”
The thought of being used as a catalyst at the cost of his own injuries...
Luring him into an attack...
All just to cause the earth’s crust carved with Dao runes to detonate?
What kind of reasoning was this?
Upon hearing the word ‘sense,’ the Desolate Demon Lord’s smile widened.
“This situation we're in,” he said, “is extraordinarily planned…”
Then, suddenly, the Desolate Demon Lord shifted the conversation. “Have you heard of the legend of the Ten Thousand Devil Abyss?”
“What?” Huang Ti was momentarily stunned.
The Desolate Demon Lord went on, “It is said that the Ten Thousand Devil Abyss reaches straight to the core of the Black Mist Zone. Of course, from our current perspective, this legend seems absurd—because we are at the deepest point of the Ten Thousand Devil Abyss.”
“This means the abyss does indeed have a bottom. It doesn’t reach the core of the earth... yet.”
“But do you know… that no legend in the Black Mist Zone is entirely baseless?”
A loud rumble echoed through the air. The ground began to collapse, sending a faint, eerie energy rippling from the newly formed chasm. Huang Ti’s expression gradually turned grim as he absorbed the weight of what was happening.
The Desolate Demon Lord’s voice remained steady as he continued, “More than three years ago, Zero came to find me. He told me of a great secret hidden deep within the Ten Thousand Devil Abyss.”
He smirked, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “I followed his instructions to descend even further. Oh, and by the way, we haven’t reached the bottom yet… there’s much more below us.”
The Desolate Demon Lord pointed to the crumbling ground beneath their feet, where the earth continued to give way. As it collapsed, a vast, bottomless darkness yawned open before them.
“Do you know what lies down there?” The Demon Lord asked, his tone almost mocking.
“What is it?” Huang Ti replied, frowning.
“A sea,” the Desolate Demon Lord said with a smug grin. “I call it the Dead Sea.”
“The Dead Sea?” Huang Ti repeated a note of confusion in his voice.
“Yes,” the Demon Lord replied coolly, before adding with a condescending chuckle, “and you, my friend, aren’t as sharp as I expected.”
“Huh?” Huang Ti blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The Desolate Demon Lord’s eyes gleamed as he explained, “Because truly smart people would have run the moment I told them they were being used as a pawn.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Even those with some intelligence would have fled when I spoke of the legend of the Ten Thousand Devil Abyss.”
“And yet here you are, still standing before me, carrying on this pleasant conversation…”
As his words trailed off, the atmosphere around him began to shift. The aura of the Desolate Demon Lord changed abruptly, becoming more menacing, more unnatural.
Huang Ti’s eyes widened, his body tense. He could sense it—something was wrong.
The aura surrounding the Desolate Demon Lord now felt... different. It wasn’t just powerful; it was foreign. The familiar fluctuations of Origin Power had vanished, leaving something far more sinister in their place, something alien.
An unsettling thought flashed through Huang Ti’s mind: exotic being.
At this moment, the Desolate Demon Lord no longer seemed human. He had transformed into something else, something entirely foreign to this world.
The Desolate Demon Lord's voice echoed again, dripping with amusement.
“You're still not leaving… You really are something else. I don’t even know how to evaluate your actions.”
He sighed dismissively. “Forget it. It’s too late now. Even if you wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be able to.”
His cryptic words swirled in the air, leaving Huang Ti more bewildered than ever. It was as if the Desolate Demon Lord had transformed into a riddler, speaking in circles that made Huang Ti’s head spin.
“What are you talking about…” Huang Ti muttered, growing tired of the game.
Frustration boiled within him. Enough was enough. He would kill the Desolate Demon Lord now and figure out the rest later.
With renewed determination, the lightning crackled in his hands once again. The lethal power of his Roaring God technique began to build, preparing to strike down his opponent. But before he could unleash it, an ominous, low roar interrupted his focus.
The sound came from beneath his feet.
Huang Ti’s eyes darted downward. The ground beneath him was trembling, and the surface of the water was rippling unnaturally. Then, from the cracks in the earth, dense black smoke began to rise, coiling into the air like some sinister entity.
“It has begun…” the Desolate Demon Lord whispered, his tone filled with eerie satisfaction.
In the next instant, the air was pierced by a sound like the mournful cry of a whale, and the black smoke erupted upward as if it were alive. It surged violently, surrounding Huang Ti in a suffocating wave.
Before he could react, the smoke enveloped him entirely. In that dark, choking shroud, Huang Ti felt all his senses slip away. It was as if he’d been plunged into a vast, empty void—cut off from the world around him. He couldn’t see, hear, or even feel his own body.
“What’s going on?” he thought, his heartbeat quickening as panic set in.
Trapped in this oppressive darkness, his mind raced. But before he could gather his thoughts, a sudden tremor surged through his being, shaking him to his core.
His Divinity—his very essence—was trembling. Something was wrong, deeply wrong, and it was happening inside him.
An uncontrollable surge of Divine Origin poured out from Huang Ti’s Divinity, spilling from his body. The golden light, the very essence of his power, was rapidly being drained. As soon as it came into contact with the black mist surrounding him, it was like pure water tainted by dark ink—its brilliance instantly fading to black, swallowed and consumed by the black mist.
A cold chill spread through Huang Ti’s body. He felt his strength waning rapidly. It wasn’t just the outer and middle layers of his divine essence being devoured; even the inner sanctum of his Divinity, the core that belonged to the Supreme God, was being pulled into the black mist’s grasp, devoured without mercy.
This sensation was horrifyingly familiar—similar to what had happened to Qing Jue when drained by Lu Ming, or to Moonfiend when her Divinity had been absorbed. It was a Divine level of paralysis, stripping away nearly all of his abilities—ninety-nine percent of his power crippled in an instant.
Huang Ti was now facing this very nightmare.
Yet, unlike Moonfiend, as the Guardian God of the Eternal Clan, Huang Ti didn’t lose consciousness. He hadn’t collapsed, but in many ways, this only deepened his despair. He could still feel everything, and it was agonizing.
Suddenly, his mind felt as though it had been struck by a hammer. His head pounded, and dizziness overtook him.
With his divine perception, Huang Ti watched in horror as his Divinity trembled violently. The Divine Origin from the outer and middle layers had been completely absorbed by the black mist, draining from his body faster than he had ever seen—even faster than Lu Ming.
By all logic, his Divinity should have entered a dormant state by now, conserving what little remained. But instead, it was spinning wildly, accelerating beyond control. With each frantic revolution, more and more of his Divine Origin leaked away, fusing into the black mist as if willingly surrendering to it.
In the blink of an eye, more than half of Huang Ti’s Divinity had been consumed.
He was being hollowed out.
Then, without warning, a burst of seven-colored light flared from deep within his Divinity, piercing through the black mist like a beacon.
Huang Ti’s eyes widened in shock as he watched a small, radiant spot of colorful light break free from his divinity. The light shot out from his body, merging with the black mist and disappearing into the unknown.
Boom!
In an instant, it was as though the heavens and earth had collapsed inside his mind. His divinity—his very essence—had exploded. There was nothing left.
Crimson blood streamed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, covering his face in a macabre mask, and turning him into a demonic figure.
“How… how is this possible?!”
His voice rose into a frantic roar of disbelief as the black mist surged around him once more.
Huang Ti had fallen—from the Divine Realm to that of a mere Ascendant. He could feel it, the sensation of something vital being drained from him, flowing out of his body like water through a cracked vessel.
It was his Origin Power.
All of his Gold and Silver Dao Patterns, the essence of his strength, were being ripped away.
In the blink of an eye, the overwhelming power he had once wielded vanished completely.
All that remained were the 3,765 Primordial Dao Patterns—just enough to keep him alive, barely sustaining him, preventing his immediate death. But they could do nothing to fend off the profound weakness that now gripped his entire being.
Fear. A crushing, suffocating fear overwhelmed Huang Ti.
Gasping for breath, his head spun as he tried to make sense of what was happening.
Strangely, the senses he had lost earlier were suddenly restored, as if the black mist no longer sought to blind him.
For the first time, he could see clearly.
Beneath his feet, in the depths of the rippling waters, he saw something—a massive figure swimming in the abyss below.
His heart raced as his eyes locked onto the shadowy form.
“What are you?!” Huang Ti screamed into the void, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and rage.
In response, a deep, thunderous sound filled the air, echoing like the mournful song of a great whale. It reverberated through his very bones, shaking him to his core.
And then came the calm, steady voice of the Desolate Demon Lord beside him.
“It's called... The Harvester.”
End of Chapter 351