Huo’s eerie chuckle sliced through Chen Mo’s thoughts.

  “Oh, those ants outside will take a month at least to figure out the formation’s weak points. Let’s give them a hand, hihihi.”

  Far outside the Immortal Cave, Old Hei’s tools clattered to the ground.

  “Strange…” he murmured.

  Steward Mu’s head whipped around. “What?!”

  Old Hei’s brow furrowed. “It’s nothing alarming. Earlier, I thought deciphering this formation would take ages… but suddenly, its main weak points have become clear.”

  Qiong Tao frowned. “It’s an ancient formation. Who knows how long it’s been here?”

  Sheng Xia added, “Yes, without constant maintenance, formations decay… eventually they stop functioning altogether.”

  Luo Yan’s eyes gleamed. “Old Hei, can we start attempting to break it?”

  Old Hei hesitated, still wary. Yet he couldn’t deny the impatience radiating from the group. “Very well. Everyone, take your positions. Use the formation-breaking talismans at my signal… I’ll employ the second-level talisman myself to strike the main weak point.”

  Old Hei raised two fingers, eyes sharp as blades.

  “Now!”

  The talismans ignited in unison.

  Five high grade first level formation breaking talismans flared with piercing white radiance, their inscribed runes writhing like awakened serpents. They shot forward, streaks of light tearing through the dim valley air.

  A heartbeat later, Old Hei unleashed the second level talisman.

  Unlike the others, it did not merely glow.

  It roared.

  Crimson and gold patterns erupted across its surface, lines folding into one another like rotating gears of pure spiritual force. The air trembled as it accelerated, dragging a visible distortion behind it.

  Then—

  Impact.

  The first wave of talismans struck the marked weak points with sharp detonations. Ripples spread across the misty barrier, concentric rings of shimmering light bursting outward.

  The second level talisman arrived last.

  It collided with the main node Old Hei had identified.

  The explosion was not loud.

  It was deep.

  A heavy, vibrating thrum echoed through the valley as if the mountain itself had groaned in pain.

  The once stable mist wall began to fluctuate violently. Light surged erratically across its surface. Hidden runic lines flickered into visibility, twisting and snapping like overstressed threads.

  Cracks of luminous fracture spidered outward from the impact point.

  The barrier pulsed.

  Dimmed.

  Flared again in resistance.

  Wind spiraled outward in chaotic bursts, forcing the five cultivators to brace themselves. Loose stones trembled and shattered along the valley floor.

  Inside the cave, Huo watched with amusement, spectral flames dancing in his hollow gaze.

  “Break… break…” he murmured softly.

  Outside, the formation’s glow faltered.

  The mist thinned.

  A jagged tear opened at the center, light spilling inward as the once seamless barrier began to collapse in cascading shards of fading radiance.

  The ancient protection, dormant for centuries, was finally giving way.

  Steward Mu did not hesitate.

  The moment the formation tore open, he surged forward like an arrow released from the bow. The others followed in flashing streaks of light, vanishing into the cave in the span of a breath.

  Inside—

  Heat struck them like a living thing.

  A suffocating wave rolled outward, heavy and oppressive. The air shimmered, distorted by layers of scorching qi. The five immediately circulated their spiritual energy, forming protective films over their skin. A few heat warding talismans were crushed between fingers, releasing cool streams of blue light that wrapped around their bodies.

  Old Hei exhaled slowly. “This immortal cave… it likely belonged to a fire attribute master.”

  Luo Yan nodded, eyes scanning the surroundings. “Stay close. Be vigilant. Whatever we obtain will be distributed evenly among the five of us.”

  They advanced cautiously.

  The deeper they walked, the more dilapidated the cave appeared. Cracked stone pillars leaned precariously. Ancient carvings had melted into warped shapes. Channels carved into the ground once used to guide fire qi were fractured and clogged.

  Several boiling pools bubbled violently along the passage, thick smoke rising from their surfaces. The vapor carried a dangerous aura, enough to corrode unprotected flesh.

  The place felt abandoned.

  But not dead.

  Inside the cultivation chamber deeper within, Huo’s eerie laughter echoed.

  “Young Chen… we are about to watch a fine show. I hope those five do not disappoint.”

  Chen Mo stood quietly beside the blazing skeleton, his gaze calm but inwardly cautious.

  This ghost…

  Bloodthirsty.

  Unstable.

  Amused by slaughter.

  If not for the knowledge he still sought, Chen Mo would have left already. More importantly, he needed to confirm that this remnant soul would truly dissipate by day’s end.

  The Immortal world was too bizarre.

  Leaving behind a hidden danger was unacceptable.

  Huo waved his hand casually.

  Outside, the damaged formation shimmered… then healed.

  The entrance of the immortal cave sealed once more, mist solidifying into an impenetrable barrier.

  Back within the outer chamber, Old Hei suddenly stiffened.

  “Something is wrong!” His face paled. “Our exit… it’s blocked!”

  Steward Mu frowned briefly, then forced calm into his expression. “Do not panic. It is a third grade formation. Once we seize control of the formation eye, exiting will be simple.”

  His words steadied the group slightly.

  Then—

  Qiong Tao narrowed his eyes toward the thick smoke drifting from the deeper passage.

  “Wait… what is that?”

  His voice dropped.

  “There’s someone there.”

  The others turned sharply.

  Through the swirling black smoke, two red points shimmered.

  Glowing.

  Unblinking.

  Like embers staring from within a furnace.

  The cave grew silent.

  The boiling pools hissed.

  And the red lights slowly brightened.

  As the group tensed, an impossibly fast figure suddenly appeared before them. Steward Mu, leading the charge at the cave entrance, barely had time to react. In an instant, he was hurled through the air like a rag doll with broken strings, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

  The rest of the group scrambled, unleashing weapons and activating protective talismans, but it was futile. The figure moved with terrifying speed, shattering shields and smashing their arms and weapons. Within moments, the entire group lay battered and bloody, barely able to lift a finger.

  Chen Mo, however, remained perfectly calm. The figure was Huo’s puppet construct—dangerous to late Qi cultivators but nothing more. Its power barely reached the level of an early Foundation Establishment master, and for Chen Mo, it was easily defeatable.

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  Huo, watching with a twisted smile, snorted: “Even after I held back, they didn’t put up the slightest fight…pathetic.”

  Steward Mu gasped through bloodied lips: “Luo Yan… what did you bring us into…do something, or we’re finished…”

  Luo Yan couldn’t even respond, blood seeping from his seven orifices. The others fared no better—Old Hei lay dead, his head twisted unnaturally, while Sheng Xia and Qiong Tao writhed in pain.

  Huo waved his hand again, and the puppet stirred. With terrifying precision, it began moving the incapacitated five, arranging them into a strange, unnatural circular pattern. Chen Mo’s eyes narrowed—something about the formation of their bodies immediately set off alarm bells in his mind.

  Before he could react, an immense pressure slammed down on him, crushing like a mountain settling onto his chest. His movements froze, even his spiritual senses struggled against the weight, faltering as if trapped in invisible chains.

  Chen Mo’s face drained of color. In that instant, a single thought surged through his mind: he had been careless. He had underestimated this remnant ghost and its puppet…a fatal miscalculation.

  Huo Zhenwei let out a low, eerie laugh that seemed to echo from the very walls of the cave.

  “Young Chen… did you really think obtaining this old man’s inheritance would be that easy? Hihihi… but I can’t blame you. You’re still young, still na?ve, and have yet to taste the true horrors of the cultivation world. The moment you appeared here, I knew you were special. Such attainment in body refining… and such a mysterious way of infiltrating my immortal cave… truly intriguing. Perhaps in your next life, you’ll be wiser. Hihihihi.”

  Chen Mo’s face drained of color. He forced out words through gritted teeth, “You… damn ghost… what is the meaning of this…”

  Huo’s voice was calm, almost casual, as if discussing the weather. “Now, now… no need for insults. It’s not personal, believe me. I’ve been trapped here for three hundred years, waiting for a vessel strong enough to withstand my soul. Body possession is no simple task; finding a compatible host is nearly impossible. The conditions are… exceedingly stringent. Even with your formidable body, possession would not succeed unless I temporarily stabilized it—with sacrifices.”

  He gestured toward the five cultivators sprawled in the unnatural formation. “Sacrificing these five souls allows me to anchor my essence in your body for a few years, until I can find a truly compatible vessel. Truly… your arrival here is a stroke of luck for me. Hihihihi…”

  Chen Mo’s mind raced. The situation was more dire than he expected. The pressure on him, the puppet, the strange formation, and now this revelation—it all clicked together. He was no longer just an observer; he was a potential vessel, and the cost… the price… was horrifically high.

  Huo Zhenwei’s voice cut through the cold air like a blade. “Enough talking. Let the ritual begin.”

  At his words, the ground beneath the incapacitated five ignited with a dark, pulsating light. Tendrils of shadow shot out from the floor, wrapping around each of them, connecting the five in a web of black energy that seemed to devour even the surrounding light.

  Huo Zhenwei hovered in the center, his ghostly figure radiating a chilling aura. His eyes glowed like molten coal as he raised his hands, tracing intricate patterns in the air. Then, with deliberate precision, he began reciting incantations in a language that seemed older than the mountains themselves.

  As the final syllables left his lips, the cave temperature plummeted. Frost crept along the jagged walls, steam of breath visible in the freezing air. Then, the impossible happened: the five cultivators’ forms convulsed, and from their bodies emerged five shimmering apparitions—ghostly echoes of their very souls. Their translucent forms were writhing, distorted with fear and confusion, yet pulled inexorably upward.

  The five souls twisted and coiled together like threads of smoke caught in a storm, then, in a brilliant flash of blinding white light, they were drawn into Huo Zhenwei’s hovering form. The light collided with him, exploding outward in a halo that distorted the air, sending jagged waves of spiritual energy radiating through the cave. The shadows on the ground recoiled as if burned, and for a moment, the ghostly figure of Huo Zhenwei seemed to swell, taking on a terrifying fullness, as though the essence of the five cultivators had fused into his very being.

  Chen Mo, watching from the shadows, felt the oppressive weight of power unlike anything he had experienced. The air around him vibrated, his spiritual senses screamed with the intensity of the energy surge, and he realized just how dangerous this remnant soul truly was.

  The next instant, Huo Zhenwei opened his ghostlike eyes.

  They burned brighter than before.

  Then he vanished.

  Space rippled—

  —and he reappeared directly before Chen Mo, who was still forced to his knees beneath the crushing pressure, unable to move a single muscle.

  Before Chen Mo could even form a thought, Huo’s now fuller, more solid phantom form stretched outward. Dozens of translucent tendrils burst from him like spectral roots.

  They shot forward—

  —and plunged straight into Chen Mo’s glabella.

  A freezing darkness exploded inside him.

  His vision shattered.

  The world dissolved.

  Chen Mo felt himself dragged into his own Sea of Consciousness.

  The familiar inner expanse unfolded around him—vast, dim, illuminated by faint golden currents drifting like distant stars. At the center sat his soul form, cross-legged in meditation.

  His soul eyes snapped open.

  And froze.

  Huo Zhenwei stood there.

  Inside.

  The ghost’s form was no longer thin and flickering. The five sacrificed souls had thickened him, stabilized him. His presence filled the inner world like an invading storm.

  Chen Mo understood instantly.

  This was his last chance.

  If his soul was destroyed here, everything would end.

  Huo did not waste time.

  His ghostly tendrils lashed outward again, shrieking through the Sea of Consciousness, tearing apart spiritual currents as they surged directly toward Chen Mo’s soul.

  “Resistance is useless, boy,” Huo’s voice echoed like frost cracking over a frozen lake. “The sooner you surrender to fate, the less you will suffer.”

  The tendrils were about to strike—

  And then—

  The golden energy within Chen Mo’s Sea of Consciousness reacted.

  Violently.

  The moment Chen Mo’s terror pushed him to unleash everything he had, the golden spatial currents erupted like a star collapsing inward. They surged around his soul form, condensing instantly into a radiant shield.

  Pure.

  Ancient.

  Untouchable.

  The ghostly tendrils collided with the golden barrier.

  There was no explosion.

  No struggle.

  The instant they touched it—

  They disintegrated.

  Not burned.

  Not shattered.

  Erased.

  Fragments of Huo’s spiritual essence were dragged into swirling spatial currents and vanished into unknown depths beyond the inner sea.

  Huo recoiled in shock.

  “What—?!”