Ascension of The Unholy Immortal-Chapter 420: Nine Hells Court

The Nine Hells Court was an ancient organization, its roots stretching back millions of years—long before the Great Catastrophe reshaped the cultivation realms. Evidence of its existence could be found in the oldest inscriptions, predating even the rise of the Heaven Fortune Domain.

It was founded in the shadows and has remained there ever since. Despite the passing of countless eras and the rise and fall of countless sects and clans, the Nine Hells Court has endured like a stain that time could never wash away.

Its presence is felt through its branches, known ominously as Hell Houses which are scattered across the domain, Yet no two Hell Houses are the same, and no one outside the Court truly knows how many exist or how they operate.

What made the Court most disturbing wasn't its longevity or its eerie network—it was the mystery surrounding its true strength.

No one knew the extent of its power.

There were whispers—unconfirmed but chilling—that the Court harbored multiple Void Return Realm powerhouses. Yet not a single one had ever revealed themselves in public, nor were any names recorded in sect archives. The Court's true hierarchy, its cultivators' levels, their origins—everything was obscured under layers of deadly secrecy.

Why would such speculation persist? The answer was simple.

If you wanted to assassinate a Void Return Realm expert, the Nine Hells Court would not refuse.

No other organization dared make such a claim. But there was a catch—the price.

The cost of hiring the Court for such a task was astronomical. Even a Void Return Realm expert would find themselves unable to afford the fee. Only beings like the Realm Lords might qualify, and even then—why would such apex beings need assistance? They ruled entire sectors of the heavens; they had no use for hired killers.

Those who grew suspicious attempted to capture Nine Hells Court members alive. The goal: soul search them and extract information.

It never worked.

The moment a soul-search technique was initiated, the assassin's soul would combust—violently and irrevocably. No remnant, no trace, not even the ashes could be analyzed. It was as if they had never existed at all.

This level of secrecy wasn't mere discipline—it was programming, embedded deeper than instinct. Even low-ranking members exhibited this self-destructive failsafe. Attempts to infiltrate the Court from within had all failed without exception.

Yet, despite the fear and mystery surrounding them, one truth was universally accepted:

The Nine Hells Court never failed a mission.

No matter the target, terrain, or complexity, if they accepted the contract, the outcome was always the same— success.

After discovering Tian Shu's true identity, Liang immediately dismissed any thoughts of probing into his memories.

Not long after, he departed for the Devil Realm. By the time he secured a position as an elder within the Divine Spirit Palace, he had already begun leveraging the palace's influence. Using its internal network, he established a connection with one of the Hell Houses within the Devil Realm and discreetly assigned Tian Shu a task: to oversee the inner region of the Heavenly Yin Cliff and report any significant changes directly to him.

Through the Court , it was possible to contract specific individuals using elemental crystals. Liang had paid a rather substantial amount—enough to draw attention—to ensure Tian Shu's services.

What followed was largely within expectations. Fortunately, Tian Shu proved himself useful. His cultivation method, while unusual, was particularly compatible with Yin environments. In the end, both parties seemed satisfied—at least, in the way Liang had intended.

Now, with the formation of the Twenty Spectral Veins, Liang could be said to have officially begun cultivating the Ten Thousand Nether Veins Technique—though his current progress was still only at the Spirit Awakening Realm level.

Yet in truth, he had no real intention of cultivating the technique himself.

His current cultivation path was that of the Origin Path, having long since shattered his Void Dao Essence and stepped completely beyond the confines of the traditional Dao. His universe essence, unbound by rigid path structures, theoretically allowed him to transform between both the Origin and Dao paths—but such a transformation would take time. Too much time. Decades, perhaps half a century, just to make the necessary adjustments.

And Liang had no desire to waste time on something so... pointless.

At first, he'd considered cultivating a clone and assigning it to master the Nether Veins technique on his behalf. But upon delving deeper into the art, a new idea had taken root—an idea far more elegant.

"The power of the Netherworld..." Liang's lips curled slightly. "I have a better use for you."

He closed his eyes and turned his gaze inward, focusing on the twenty spectral veins writhing within his body. A thoughtful stillness passed, then his expression hardened with quiet resolve.

Within his dantian, his nascent divinity opened its eyes. A flicker of determination flashed across its face as it began forming seals in swift succession. One after another, twenty runic chains materialized around it—radiant, pulsing with primordial law.

The nascent divinity raised two fingers, pointing them toward its own heart. At that signal, the twenty chains trembled with a low, resonant hum. Then, one by one, they pierced directly into the heart of the nascent divinity, embedding themselves like divine nails.

On the outside, Liang's face contorted in agony, the pain so intense it felt as though the chains were piercing his own heart. Blood seeped from his seven orifices as his body shook under the strain.

Only after the final chain entered did his expression ease—slightly.

"Now comes the real work," Liang thought grimly.

Within the dantian, the nascent divinity raised its fingers once more—this time pointing skyward.

Instantly, the free ends of the twenty chains surged into motion.

A low rumble echoed through Liang's body as the chains shot out in twenty different directions, each one arriving at a spectral river of Yin Qi—vast, cold, and flowing like ethereal time.

For a moment, they hovered. Then, with a graceful inevitability, each chain began to coil around its respective spectral vein.

Only when the process was complete did the nascent divinity slowly lower its fingers. A flicker of hesitation passed through its gaze, uncertainty tightening its brow.

The next step… would change everything.