The Prequel to Marshal Tianpeng: An Epic of Gods and Demons

The instant his nine-toothed rake tore through the dark green demonic clouds, the stench unique to the Weak Water flooded Zhu Cangming’s nose and mouth, reeking of rusted metal and rotting flesh. This was no ordinary water from the Heavenly River, but Weak Water surging up from the depths of the Nine Hells. Not even a goose feather could float on it, and neither immortal nor Buddha could cross it. A touch was enough to corrode bone and devour the soul.

“Form ranks! Of the three thousand Weak Waters, we only need one ladleful...” Zhu Cangming’s roar drowned out the shrill screams of extraterrestrial demons tearing at the barrier and the furious torrent of the Heavenly River. “Pour it into the gaps between their bones!”