Chapter 43: The Unknown Realm!

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“What... what is this?!”

The scene before his eyes was utterly breathtaking. Standing high above and looking around, the horizon seemed boundless. Below stretched an endless expanse of primeval forest, with dozens of towering mountains in the distance. Rivers and lakes adorned the land, painting a portrait of an untouched paradise.

“How could this be? How can such a place exist here?” Camus’ voice trembled with disbelief. And with good reason—how could such an otherworldly realm exist, buried more than thirty thousand meters beneath the sea? Who could believe it? Yet, faced with the evidence before him, Camus had no choice.

“Damn it, Oda really is something else. Not a single mention of this in the manga—this place doesn’t even exist! What secrets are hidden here?” Camus cursed under his breath, muttering to himself. This was a world shrouded in mystery, an unexplored land.

He coughed violently, blood spilling from his lips—his injuries clearly severe; it seemed this was the worst pain our protagonist had ever endured.

The “Violet Emperor” had already been stowed in his ring. Camus braced his right hand against his left arm, applying slight pressure.

“Aaagh!”

A surge of agony shot through his left arm, forcing a cry from his lips.

A sickening crunch echoed as the bones were set back in place.

He exhaled heavily, gritting his teeth. “Damn, this hurts like hell. First time I’ve ever been this badly hurt. I’d better remember this lesson—no more overconfidence. If I screw up again, I might not even have a chance to regret it.”

Drawing a few steadying breaths, Camus managed to dull the pain in his torso, but it was clear this wasn’t enough—he had to find somewhere to heal, and fast.

He glanced downward. The ground lay at least ten thousand meters below, blanketed in forest. In the distance, he could just make out a settlement—at least several dozen kilometers away.

He shook his head. “Better heal up first, then check it out.” This place radiated a sense of looming danger—the unknown was always the most terrifying. If his body wasn’t fully recovered, wandering around would be unwise.

Gathering the spiritual energy that hung thick in the air, Camus began his gentle descent. A soft wind swept past, and his cells seemed to awaken. The aura here was far denser than above the sea—several times richer, in fact—which would certainly speed his healing.

Passing through the clouds, the landscape below became clearer. The earth was swathed in dense, ancient forest, rivers winding through the greenery, and, in the distance, lakes gleaming like scattered gems.

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Every so often, the roar of a wild beast echoed from the forest below, and birds would burst skyward, startled. The distant town came into sharper focus. Camus narrowed his eyes, activating the three-tomoe Sharingan to see farther and more clearly.

“There are definitely people here. I’ll head to the town once I’ve recovered,” he mused aloud. In his current wounded state, if he went there and was mistaken for an enemy, he’d stand no chance of escape.

Shaking off the thought, he increased his descent slightly. The forest canopy drew closer, revealing what looked like structures among the trees. Camus hovered and peered downward with caution.

The buildings were mostly ruins, clearly ancient and long since reclaimed by the forest. Occasionally, a wild beast darted through the gaps in the stonework.

After a careful survey revealed no immediate danger, Camus sought out a sturdy tree and flew over.

He landed softly on a thick branch, looking around. He was still more than a hundred meters above the ground—safe enough, for now.

Finding a spot thick with leaves and branches, he sat cross-legged and began the process of healing.

He focused his mind on his dantian, sighing with relief—luckily, it hadn’t been harmed. If his core had been damaged, who knew how long recovery would take?

Withdrawing his consciousness, he glanced at the ancient ring on his left hand. The Ice Phoenix was inside. He’d better leave a word, lest she worry.

His mind entered the ring, where he found the Ice Phoenix sitting on a patch of grass, hugging her knees, her brows knit with worry.

Camus smiled gently. With such a beauty concerned for him, even his wounds seemed to heal faster.

Projecting his spiritual energy, his spirit-form appeared behind the Ice Phoenix.

She immediately sensed him, her eyes misting over as she sprang to her feet and threw herself into his arms.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” she asked, concern etched on her face as she pulled away.

Camus hesitated, then replied, “I’m fine, just used up a lot of energy dealing with those monsters. This place is dangerous—you’d better stay here until I find somewhere safe.”

He didn’t want her to know he was injured. Pride aside, it was better not to worry her.

The Ice Phoenix frowned, but after a moment nodded. “Alright, but you be careful. If things get dangerous, run—don’t be reckless. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” She didn’t mention going out to help, knowing she’d only be a burden. Alone, Camus would be less conspicuous and more agile. Had she known he was badly hurt, she wouldn’t have insisted on staying.

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Camus smiled, placing a kiss on her beautiful forehead.

“Don’t worry about me. Your husband is the strongest, remember?” With that, he vanished from her sight.

Opening his eyes, a wry smile crossed his face. He’d better heal quickly—this was no place to linger.

He closed his eyes and began circulating his cultivation technique. Spiritual energy seeped in through his pores, filtering through his dantian and transforming into pure true essence, which then flowed through his meridians. With each cycle, he could feel his wounds knitting, his body recovering, and the absorption of spiritual energy growing ever faster.

Time flowed like water. Three days passed in the blink of an eye. Camus sat unmoving in his leafy perch, shrouded in a rainbow-hued aura as he absorbed spiritual energy with astonishing speed.

At length, the glow faded, revealing his tall, upright form. Slowly, he opened his eyes—a flash of violet lightning seemed to dance in his pupils, sharp and intimidating, but gone in an instant.

He rose, raising both hands and clenching his fists. The sound of bones shifting filled the air, and the space around his fists seemed to distort. This bout of healing had been a blessing in disguise—his strength had leapt threefold. The thought of benefiting from injury crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Only a fool would seek out pain.

He scanned his surroundings. A lake shimmered in the distance. Noting the filth on his clothes, he sighed, vanished from the tree, and reappeared above the lake.

With a splash, he plunged into the water.

Half an hour later, Camus emerged on the shore, clad in clean clothes.

“It’s time to check out that town. It seems different from the ones above.” Muttering to himself, he flickered to the treetops, gaze fixed on the distant settlement.

He set his direction. A faint rumble of thunder sounded, and Camus’ figure vanished.

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