The ones charging at the very front were usually those desperate criminals who had blood feuds with Nan Gong Jin.
They paid no mind to formations or prohibitions, disregarding casualties as they madly rushed inward, using their lives to forcibly carve open gap after gap.
The people behind them took advantage of the situation to pour in, each fighting for themselves while also guarding against one another.
They killed Demonic Cultivators on sight, snatched treasures on sight, and dove into any suspected passage on sight, churning the outer perimeter of Soul Severing Abyss into complete chaos.
The Ghost Hag was drenched in blood. Her sword had cut down countless attackers, but the enemies were endless, and more and more experts were beginning to appear.
She was extremely anxious. The Old Ancestor had yet to return. Although the core area had defenses, how long could it hold under such a chaotic assault?
“Shrink the defensive line! Retreat and guard the Second Demonic Malefic Formation! Activate all traps and mechanisms!”
The Ghost Hag gritted her teeth and gave the order, leading the remnants in fighting while retreating, trying to use the terrain and formations to buy time and wait for the Old Ancestor to return.
The heart of the Southern Wilderness was not somewhere just anyone could enter.
This land had been cultivated by Nan Gong Jin for over a thousand years.
Even after she was sealed, the prohibitions she had personally laid down were still operating.
There was the Myriad Bones Decay Formation on the outer perimeter of Demon Abyss, the Seventy-Two Malefic Qi Locks on the ridge of Moyun Ridge, and the Netherworld River encircling the entire city, its waters dark green year-round, with no bridges, no boats on its surface, only undercurrents swirling silently.
In this extreme chaos, several figures—exceptionally calm and with clear objectives—cleverly avoided the fiercest battle zones like swimming fish, following the paths that the vanguard had opened with their lives, rapidly infiltrating toward the depths.
The Sleeping Palace area—
The sounds of killing and explosions outside rolled through the ground like thunder, muffled by layer upon layer of prohibitions.
The bare branches of the Ginkgo Tree swayed without wind.
“Something’s happening outside,” Shen Mo abruptly stepped back, his expression grim. “Chu Yi’s target is me. She might take advantage of this…”
Before the words left his mouth, the entire manor suddenly shook violently!
Dust cascaded from above. The Demon Runes on the walls flared with dark red light, flickering unsteadily, clearly subjected to some powerful external impact or interference.
The Prohibition Seal had loosened!
Though it was only for an instant, both Shen Mo and Su Wan’er felt it clearly.
An opportunity!
Or perhaps an even greater crisis!
Su Wan’er made her decision on the spot and once again pressed her hand against the iron door’s Demon Runes.
This time, she no longer tried to break through.
Instead, she slowly seeped and struck at the discordant point that had appeared from the external tremor, using what little recovered Golden Core Spiritual Power she had in a gentle yet tenacious manner, following the flickering rhythm of the runes’ light.
Crack.
A sound like shattering crystal!
The dark red flowing light on the iron door dimmed abruptly before returning to normal, but both Shen Mo and Su Wan’er could sense that the binding force on the door had noticeably weakened!
Though it could not be completely broken, it was no longer indestructible.
“We can try!” Su Wan’er’s forehead was beaded with sweat, clearly this operation had drained her greatly.
She looked at Shen Mo, her gaze resolute. “Now’s our chance. We must leave this place. Whatever is outside, staying here only means waiting for Chu Yi to come capture us.”
Shen Mo nodded heavily.
Staying meant sitting and waiting for death. Going out meant a narrow escape from nine deaths.
But Su Wan’er was right beside him. He could not let her fall into a desperate situation because of him again.
The two combined their strength. Shen Mo poured his remaining Spiritual Power without reservation into the impact point that Su Wan’er was guiding.
The ground trembled violently, and the cat-green lanterns hanging from the Corridor eaves swayed all at once.
At the same time, at the Bone Ferry—
In some underground place covered in ancient prohibitions and now shrouded by countless Corpse Puppets and eerie blood light.
Chao’er’s crimson eyes stared fixedly at the blockade formation that had suddenly risen before her, mixed with Corpse Qi and ancient runes, and at Yun He Archon, who was slowly walking out from the shadows beyond the formation with a gentle smile, and the dense army of Corpse Puppets behind her.
“Hehe… Senior Nan Gong, or should I say, Sister Chao’er, have you thought of a way to break the formation?” Yun He’s voice was soft and lovely, but her eyes were cold as a Poison Snake.
“The Hall Master calculated that you would be worried about the chaos here. He was right. You probably can’t make it back to see your beloved Master’s Husband now, can you?”
On the other side, Sword Qi crisscrossed, ice and blood light constantly colliding and annihilating.
Pei Shuying’s white robes were already stained with dots of dark red—she did not know whether it was the enemy’s blood or her own.
The Ice Soul Sword in her hand still shone coldly, but its Sword Light was no longer as unstoppable as at the beginning.
The two stood back to back, surrounded by even more mutated Corpse Puppets slowly closing in, reeking of rot and powerful aura.
What was worse, the bizarre formation rising from the ground beneath their feet was constantly absorbing their Spiritual Power and disrupting their Divine Sense.
“Must break the formation quickly!”
Her heart burned with anxiety. A panic of impending loss of something important made her more fearful than any attack before her eyes.
She held nothing back. The terrifying Spiritual Pressure of Nascent Soul Peak erupted abruptly.
The surrounding temperature plummeted, and ice crystals condensed out of thin air.
Far away at Jiaoyue Peak, in the Seclusion Quiet Room.
Spiritual Qi surged like tangible mist within the narrow Quiet Room, crashing against the stone walls carved with reinforcement and Spirit Gathering Formations, emitting a faint humming sound.
Lin Jingzhe sat cross-legged at the center of the formation, eyes tightly shut, cold sweat beading on her forehead. Her once-beautiful face was now pale as paper.
Golden Core transforming into Nascent Soul was the first true great hurdle on the path of cultivation.
Shattering the core to form the nascent soul was not only a qualitative change in magic power and Spirit Soul, but also a cruel trial and sublimation of the Dao Heart and one’s obsession with the self.
What was Lin Jingzhe’s Dao Heart—or rather, her deepest, most chaotic, most unbearable Obsession at this moment?
To become stronger. To surpass. To prove herself.
It was… that person.
The Lord of Jiaoyue Peak who always kept his head lowered, gentle and deferential, yet when she deliberately humiliated him, a trace of endurance and dimness would flash through the depths of his eyes—Shen Mo.
How real the intimacy with him in the Dream Realm had been. That tenderness, that touch, those embarrassing and intimate whispers…
She clutched her chest. The palpitations and heat from the dream still lingered there, but deeper still was an uneasy throbbing.
“He’s nothing but a plaything relying on his constitution…”
“With the Honored Teacher absent, you become this restless?”
“Stay away from the Honored Teacher. You are Unworthy!”
The words she had once spat from her own mouth, each more vicious than the last, now seemed to transform into countless tiny echo-needles stabbing into her Sea of Consciousness from all directions.
Accompanying them were even clearer images—by the Cold Pool, the dragon looming hideously, and her decisive self, burning her vital essence without hesitation to shield him behind her.
“Hehe…” The Inner Demon’s sneer echoed in the depths of her consciousness, conjuring Shen Mo’s figure.
Around his figure were Pei Shuying’s cold profile, Chao’er’s blood-red smiling eyes, Yun He’s condescending gaze, and even… the Honored Teacher Su Wan’er’s gentle yet powerless stare.
“You see, you can’t compete with any of them. Your concern, your desperation, in his eyes, are perhaps less impressive than a single forced encounter with Chao’er. You are just an immature little disciple who throws tantrums.”
“No—!” Lin Jingzhe roared inwardly. Her Golden Core convulsed violently, cracks appearing on its surface.
Agonizing pain swept through her entire body, but she desperately guarded the last trace of clarity on her Spirit Platform.
It was not like that!
What she wanted was not to win against anyone!
What she wanted was… to be able to stand before him with dignity, no longer needing to use harsh words to mask her panic.
To possess enough power that when he was being bullied, she could swing her sword without hesitation.
To be able to… to make those eyes of his, always clouded with melancholy, see something other than distance when they looked at her.
Even just a little acknowledgment, a little difference.
This longing, intense enough to scorch her Spirit Soul, mixed with the obsession to become stronger, began to twist, deform, and condense in the agony of the shattering core, like refined iron being forged!
The Spiritual Qi vortex within her body grew more and more solid, forming a tiny spiritual core, as if a small seed had taken root and sprouted in the soil.
With a low shout, she gathered all her momentum and began to assault the barrier.
Vast Spiritual Qi transformed into a torrent rushing straight into her Dantian!
The tearing agony of the body being ripped apart swept through her whole frame, as if thousands of needles were piercing her bone marrow simultaneously. But within this pain was mixed a strange warmth.
Gritting her teeth and persisting, a thunderous roar sounded within her body—the sign of Qi and blood fiercely merging with Spiritual Qi.
As energy continued to pour in, her Meridians widened under repeated impacts. Her bones creaked and snapped.
In her Dantian, the rudimentary form of an infant quietly took shape!
The violent Spiritual Qi in the Quiet Room instantly collapsed inward, forming a massive vortex centered on her.
Above Jiaoyue Peak, the wind and clouds changed color.
A phenomenon of vast Spiritual Qi converging appeared, but the Mountain-Protecting Grand Formation promptly concealed most of it, leaking only a trace of unusual fluctuation.
Inside the Cave Dwelling, Lin Jingzhe opened her eyes, a flash of golden light vanishing within them.
There was not much joy of breakthrough on her face, only a vacant flushed look.
That grand dream just now had been too real, and too sinful.
It had not dissolved her Obsession—instead, it had tempered that longing into something even more scorching, deeply branded into her mind.
“Shen Mo…” She murmured this name.
No longer with the humiliating tone of the past, but with a strange tenderness.
“This time, the me standing before you will no longer be that fool who could only hurt you with words while hurting herself.”
“Boom—!”
Under the combined full-force strike of Shen Mo and Su Wan’er, the manor’s main gate finally let out a groan of unbearable strain, bursting outward to reveal a gap!
The cold, chaotic, Spiritual Qi-filled air of the Demon Palace rushed in.
Outside the door was not the heavily guarded area they had imagined, but a dim, winding stone passage leading into unknown depths.
Green phosphorescent ores were embedded along both sides of the passage, casting flickering shadows of human figures, like a ghost realm.
Shen Mo and Su Wan’er exchanged a glance, both seeing unwavering resolve in each other’s eyes.
There was no retreat.
He grasped her cold hand—this time, there was no dodging, only a tight clasp.
The two figures flashed, dashing out of the manor and plunging into that deep, dark tunnel like the esophagus of a giant beast.
The faint green phosphorescence illuminated the rough rock walls of the passage, stretching and distorting their fleeing silhouettes on the cold stone surface like two startled ghosts.
The air was filled with a stale, bloody, and indescribably cloying scent.
It was the unique odor of the Southern Wilderness Demon Territory, a mixture of toxic miasma and decaying Spiritual Qi, dizzying to breathe in.
Shen Mo gripped Su Wan’er’s hand tightly, his fingertips ice-cold.
He exerted all his effort to suppress his pure yin aura that so easily attracted trouble, like walking through kindling while carrying burning coals, every step a dance with fear.
Su Wan’er was slightly better off, but with her Spiritual Power still far from recovered from serious injuries, she could only maintain a basic protective halo to dispel the overly thick cold Demonic Qi around them and cautiously probe ahead.
“This way.” She suddenly whispered, pulling him into a narrower side passage.
Though her Divine Sense was damaged, her instinctive perception of formations and prohibitions remained.
The Demon Rune fluctuations ahead in this branch seemed slightly weaker than the main path.
However, they had not gone far when rustling sounds came from the darkness ahead, accompanied by low, inhuman hisses.