I Can Strengthen Infinitely

The Nine Provinces under Heaven have undergone tremendous changes in recent days.

These changes could be deemed great or small; not all common folk have yet perceived them.

Thanks to the Immortal Blood of the Wu’an Monarch, spiritual power effused forth, saturating earth, coursing through water, blending into the air—beginning at the site where the Wu’an Monarch fell as an immortal that fateful day, and then frenziedly spreading in all directions.

For the first time, all things under heaven encountered spiritual power from the Immortal Realm, and so, silenced, each began to subtly and vastly transform.

Foremost and most plainly, the emergence of Spirit Beasts struck—an unmitigated disaster for towns throughout the land.

Following this, another event arose that was enough to make all within heaven and earth tremble with unease.

That was—the outbreak of plague in the northern lands.

One town, its two hundred-some souls, without exception all fell sick with typhoid; as the sickness intensified, there came a point when not even physicians could save their fellows, nor heal themselves.

Yet these were merely rumors among the people; in truth, what the court had concealed from the populace went far beyond this.

North of Chang’an, at Taiping Pass.

A general clad in armor stood atop the city walls, one hand gripping the hilt of a sword sheathed at his waist, gaze somber, his expression grave.

Just three days past, word from the north reported: the dead from various plagued regions would, within twelve hours of their demise, all rise again, reanimated in a zombie-like state.

These zombie-like commoners had no shred of humanity remaining; upon glimpsing the living they would gather in hordes to bite and slaughter, posing a dire threat to northerners and causing grievous casualties.

Though the court dispatched armies to help suppress the crisis, results have been far from satisfactory—at present, the situation in the north remains locked in stalemate.

Somewhere in the north, there stood a nameless stone mountain, massive as a bull’s head in shape.

The mountain’s surface bore no grass, no trees—lifeless, grim and ghostly; one glance and it was clear this was no ordinary place.

Within the stone mountain, a hewn stone pool could be found, filled with viscous purple water; seated cross-legged within was a naked elder—the fourth to descend to the mortal realm, after those immortal lovers that day.

Judging by this immortal’s means, he was surely of the evil immortal ilk, his methods ruthless and in violation of all natural laws.

"The Celestial Dao of the mortal realm still rejects existences from the outer world," the elder intoned, eyes closed, voice slow and deep.

In the Immortal Realm, this old man was one all other immortals would urge slain on sight; his name, Shen You—the Netherworld Immortal Monarch by title.

A master of toxins and spirits, versed in evil immortal techniques—having descended just recently via Heaven’s Gate, Shen You first intended to gather a million human lives for a bloody sacrifice to refine a talisman. Unexpectedly, the Celestial Dao of the mortal realm fiercely resisted his actions: at any sign of intervention, thunderclouds would gather, heavenly tribulation ever poised to strike him down.

Though Shen You need fear not the tribulation’s harm, such a public display might well draw other immortals from the stone gate to this world—unwanted attention, most unfavorable to Shen You.

Thus, he cast an immortal technique to conceal his true strength, instead bringing forth an immense calamity upon the mortal realm; once chaos reigned beneath the heavens, then would his planned machinations begin in earnest, unimpeded.

As Shen You began drawing in breath, vast streams of green miasma streamed from his body, mingling with the purple water of the pool; the whole pool swiftly seethed and surged—clearly on the verge of some monstrous change.

Within half a stick of incense’s time, pillar-like figures rose from the pool’s depths—dull-eyed, gaunt, with skin like iron.

There were ten in all, each with hair flowing past the waist, fiendish aura swirling about them.

Unwilling to act openly across the world, Shen You fused his own Immortal Blood with materials brought from the Immortal Realm, forging ten avatars—each remotely controlled by his will to enact his schemes.

"Begin," Shen You commanded, raising both hands; instantly, ten black threads shot from his fingertips, burrowing into the bodies of the avatars.

The ten avatars’ eyes flared scarlet; at once, they leapt up and swiftly departed the mountain.

...

The northern lands, vast and bountiful—though lacking the Central Plains for civilization, their populace was not meager. As one town and village after another fell to the plague, the dead rose as zombie-like monstrosities roaming the earth—aimless, yet ever hunting for the living. Lacking any vital aura, they could yet sense life’s presence, and once drawn, would crowd together to pursue and kill.

When Sanhuang learned of the catastrophe, the very first order was to dispatch an army to erect a defensive line in the north; commanders of the Great Tang were sent forth with soldiers to hunt down and burn the monsters wherever found, resolving each remnant completely.

Yet after half a month, no relief could be found; worse—the disaster only spiraled further from control.

Beyond the mindless dead, with each passing day, still more mutant beasts appeared from the Northern Desert.

Some of these were fleet as hares, emaciated but agile, with hands sharp as blades; others, as large as bovine swine, brutish and relentless, thick-skinned and ponderous, all terribly hard to slay.

The arrival of these abominations, joined by Spirit Beasts harrying southward, marked—the greatest calamity ever faced in the history of the Central Plains.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!