Rebirth of Nezha in the Investiture of the Gods

Tens of thousands of citizens turned to ashes, and Li Mingzhu couldn't help but lament the ruthlessness of Yuan Futong. Yet, the crisis before him was far from over.

From the moment he discovered the hundreds of square units of Fire Crystal Stones, Li Mingzhu had already assumed a defensive stance. At that time, retreat was already impossible; he could only brace himself and withstand the impact.

Despite his astonishment, Li Mingzhu did not panic. The outer layer was defended by the Qiankun Ring, the most solid defensive artifact. Though its defensive effectiveness was not optimal, its material was unquestionably superior.

Within the Qiankun Ring were the Huntian Ribbon and the Treasure Lotus Lamp—one a superior-grade Innate Spiritual Treasure, the other a supreme-grade Innate Spiritual Treasure. Both possessed defensive properties, making them perfectly suited for second and third layers of protection.

Under the three-layered defense, even the devastating explosion of the Fire Crystal Stones, which nearly reached the might of a Quasi-Sect Leader, failed to overwhelm Li Mingzhu.

But the problem remained—Li Mingzhu could safeguard himself, but what about the entire city's populace?

Though decisive in killing, Li Mingzhu was ultimately not a cold-blooded, heartless individual. Using his three-layer defense, he darted across the city, saving as many as he could along the way.

Even if his efforts were akin to a drop in the ocean, Li Mingzhu still sought to act without remorse.

If he truly had no intention of intervening, it would have been one thing. But since he had the capacity to save lives, he would save as many as possible—even if it meant sustaining injuries himself.

Compared to the value of living, breathing lives, what were his injuries worth?

As for Li Mingzhu, he was neither a heinous villain nor an unconditionally compassionate savior, but he did possess a sense of empathy.

If one loses their sense of empathy, can they still be considered human?

Even the most irredeemable evildoers have their moments of kindness, let alone Li Mingzhu.

The Buddhist sect later had a saying: "Saving one life is better than building a seven-storied pagoda." Although Li Mingzhu always felt indifferent toward Buddhism and the Western Sect, he had to admit the truth of this saying.

The great fire burning across North Sea City lasted seven days and seven nights. Li Mingzhu also worked tirelessly for those seven days and nights, rescuing people despite sustaining heavy injuries. But in the end, his heart remained at peace.

Throughout the entire North Sea City, he saved 12,000 people. It may not seem significant compared to the city's total population, but Li Mingzhu had done everything he could.

"Take your time to recover here. The deceased are gone; I hope all of you will find peace and solace. My abilities are limited, and I couldn't save everyone. Now, it's time for me to seek justice on your behalf."

Li Mingzhu's face was blackened, his body smeared with blood and filth. He looked at the surviving citizens of North Sea City with guilt written all over his face.

"Benefactor, please go without worries. We shall strive to live well, if for no one else, then for ourselves!"

An elderly man with a head full of white hair stepped forward, trembling as he spoke, like a withered willow along the river that could collapse at any moment.

"May I ask the benefactor's name? You may not care about us, but we still wish to know your name and remember it forever!"

"Indeed! We want to build a shrine to honor the benefactor, to commemorate you for eternity."

Another elder of high standing stepped forward, speaking to Li Mingzhu with deep respect. Others echoed his sentiments.

"Jie Sect, Chentang Pass, Li Mingzhu."

After revealing his name, Li Mingzhu casually took out two elixir pills, swallowed them, and flew toward the direction indicated by the Cheng Ying Sword.

Meanwhile, Yuan Futong, who had initially flown to Canglan Mountain to recover from his wounds, believed he could easily dispel Li Mingzhu's Sword Intent. Yet he soon realized the Shadow Carrying Sword Intent was relentlessly clinging to his wounds, no method proving effective. Left with no choice, he fled toward the Beiming Sea.

It turned out that Yuan Futong was once a cultivator under the Beiming Kunpeng Ancestor, only later becoming ensnared by Zhunti, a Saint of the Western Sect, who turned him into a pawn.

To be fair, though Zhunti regarded Yuan Futong as a mere chess piece, he did treat him well. Otherwise, why would he have granted him the mid-grade Innate Spiritual Treasure, the Vajra Pestle?

But after discovering he couldn't dispel the Shadow Carrying Sword Qi, Yuan Futong's first thought was still to seek the Kunpeng Ancestor of Beiming.

Perhaps this reflects the habits of all Eastern cultivators. Despite knowing Zhunti's cultivation far surpassed Kunpeng's, Yuan Futong instinctively turned to Kunpeng first.

One wonders how Zhunti would feel if he knew of such thoughts—regretful or sorrowful?

Ironically, Yuan Futong had no idea that his actions were pushing him faster toward his own demise.

The Beiming Kunpeng was once Demon Master to the Demon Clan. How could he not recognize a disciple of Nuwa's retinue? What do you think Kunpeng would do if he found out one of his defectors had offended Nuwa's disciple?

The answer is clear.

Back at the Treasure Division Rock, the small demons scattered the moment Yuan Futong, the calamity star, finally left. Relieved, they transformed into streaks of light and flew toward Li Mingzhu.

The Treasure Division Rock, now with pitifully low mana, posed no threat even to ordinary Primordial Spirit-level cultivators. As long as it failed to deceive them, all it could do was avoid confrontations.

Do you think it feared Yuan Futong? Absolutely. It dreaded being discovered by Yuan Futong, who might crush it on a whim simply because of a bad mood.

Having existed since the Chaos Era, the Treasure Division Rock knew all too well the brutal survival laws of the Primordial World, where power granted absolute dominance.

Furthermore, Yuan Futong wasn't merely injured; he was clearly malevolent. How could the Treasure Division Rock dare show itself?

As Li Mingzhu embarked on his journey, he remained oblivious to these intricate dynamics, pouring his focus entirely into tracing Yuan Futong's whereabouts.

As long as the Shadow Carrying Sword Intent persisted, no matter Yuan Futong's capabilities, escape was impossible.

At first, Li Mingzhu sensed Yuan Futong had reached Canglan Mountain. Then he noticed his movement northward, and Li Mingzhu followed the trail northward as well.

The North Sea was originally the domain of the North Sea Dragon King. However, thanks to the presence of Kunpeng, the North Sea Dragon King's influence was pitifully limited.

Even so, the North Sea Dragon King held no grievances. After all, how could he dare offend Kunpeng?

In Ancient Times, Kunpeng created the Demon Language to ensure the continuity of the Demon Clan. He was revered as Demon Master, earning immeasurable merit and even contending with Donghuang and Emperor Jun for the Demon Emperor throne.

Though ultimately defeated, Kunpeng remained among the most prestigious under the Saints, far beyond the reach of the North Sea Dragon King—or even the slumbering ancestors of the Dragon Clan.

This is the enduring influence of Ancient power. Though inactive for ages, their prestige remains eternal.

Li Mingzhu naturally had no knowledge of such convolutions, simply following the trail into Beiming.

If Yuan Futong understood these connections, would he regret his actions?

Sadly, there is no remedy for regret in this world!