The gray mist in the forest had noticeably thickened.
Mu Congyun hadn’t traveled far using his light escape technique before he was forced to stop due to the increasingly sparse spiritual energy in the woods.
Fortunately, no pursuers followed.
He suppressed his aura and looked up at the sky above.
When he first entered, dim daylight could still be glimpsed, but now only a thick leaden hue remained.
The gray mist had blotted out the sky, enveloping the entire ancient forest.
The fog lantern at his waist, previously silent, now flashed incessantly with warnings, alerting him that the corrosive mist in the forest was becoming dangerous.
Mu Congyun had no choice but to circulate his spiritual energy throughout his body, forming a thin protective barrier to shield himself from the mist’s erosion.
This gray corrosive mist had seeped in through the weakened Ten Directions Barrier.
Originating from the Corrosive Sea beyond the barrier, it was a foul energy that could block, devour spiritual energy, and even cause mutations in spiritual power.
Living beings exposed to high concentrations of this mist for too long would suffer unpredictable mutations.
For cultivators, the worst cases would lose their sanity, becoming bloodthirsty monsters. Even milder exposure could stagnate their cultivation, making advancement difficult.
Ordinary people, being more fragile than cultivators, were even more susceptible.
A brief exposure could completely corrupt them, transforming them into mindless living corpses.
It was said that over two thousand years ago, before the “Great Corrosive Disaster,” this land had been prosperous and flourishing.
Beyond the Western Territories lay the Eastern Territories, and together they formed a complete realm.
In those days, cultivators achieving ascension were almost a common occurrence every century.
Beyond the “Feathered Immortal Realm” existed true terrestrial immortals and great celestial beings.
But ever since the sudden appearance of the corrosive mist that blanketed the land, blocking spiritual energy and forming the vast Corrosive Sea that continuously devoured the territory, the cultivation world had begun its decline.
The geniuses and mighty figures of that era either perished fighting monsters in the mist or sacrificed themselves to activate the Ten Directions Grand Formation.
It was said that within the five life-and-death gates of the Ten Directions Barrier, aside from the watchtowers, stood dense forests of stone tablets.
Each tablet represented a life given to protect this land.
In recent years, under the protection of the Ten Directions Barrier, the Western Territories had remained relatively stable.
But as spiritual energy grew increasingly scarce, cultivation became more difficult. For over two thousand years, no one had achieved ascension.
With major sects constantly sending disciples to deal with mutations and suffering heavy losses, the cultivation world was facing a talent drought.
Even the Xuanling Sect was no exception—otherwise, his master wouldn’t have sent him on this mission.
Remembering the heavy history recorded in the Western Territories Chronicles, Mu Congyun sighed deeply and continued forward. Just then, an abrupt change occurred in the forest-
Though there was no wind, trees all around began shaking violently, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes.
The rustling of leaves was replaced by chaotic human voices, as if people buried in the earth had awakened and were now writhing in their confined prisons, moaning in agony.
The moans grew louder and clearer, like streams converging into rivers, until the sound surged like a torrent, echoing endlessly through the forest.
The twisted tree trunks bore grotesque humanoid shapes, their figures struggling outward.
Facial features protruded visibly from the bark -wide-open mouths continuously calling out names with expressions alternating between pleading and resentful, creating a scene both eerie and horrifying.
Even though Mu Congyun had mentally prepared himself, facing this sight abruptly still sent chills down his spine.
Taking a deep breath, he carefully avoided the writhing branches and observed the human faces emerging from the monstrous trees.
Most were unfamiliar, ranging from young to old.
As he scrutinized them one by one, a familiar face caught his eye-a middle-aged man he had seen on their first day in Nanhuai Town.
With triangular eyes and a hooked nose, the man had been secretly watching them from behind a window as they searched for lodging.
His vague suspicions confirmed, Mu Congyun felt a growing sense of foreboding.
-These trees in the forest were likely all former residents of Nanhuai Town.
The middle-aged man continued to struggle, his arms—or what resembled arms-clawing and tearing at the bark as if trying to break free.
After only a brief hesitation, Mu Congyun overcame his discomfort with physical contact and reached out.
His palm transformed into a blade, slicing through the rough, cracked bark.
He had intended to pull the man out, but instead of a human limb, a newly sprouted branch emerged from within, coiling around Mu Congyun’s arm and yanking him violently toward the tree-
Simultaneously, the distorted face on the trunk turned toward him, lips curling into something resembling a smile as it called his name.
“Mu Congyun.”
With that utterance, it was as if a switch had been flipped.
All the agonized faces abruptly turned toward him, chanting his name in unison: “Mu Congyun.” “Mu Congyun.” “Mu Congyun.”
Countless voices merged into one, calling his name in eerie synchronization.
It felt like being dragged back into last night’s bizarre dream.
For a fleeting moment, Mu Congyun’s mind wavered, nearly succumbing to the cold, uncanny vortex. But the relentless pull on his arm snapped him back to clarity.
“Beitian!” he shouted.
The sword instantly unsheathed itself, severing the branch that held him captive.
Mu Congyun swiftly retreated, no longer conserving his spiritual energy as he maneuvered his sword through the gaps in the tangled branches, racing toward the forest’s edge.
The closer he got to the outskirts, the more distinct the humanoid forms on the trees became some even had limbs and patches of skin exposed beyond the bark.
Between evading pursuit, Mu Congyun’s gaze swept the ground below, quickly spotting familiar faces-disciples of Xuanling Sect who had gone missing in Nanhuai Town.
Likely due to their recent disappearance, these disciples hadn’t fully merged with the trees yet, their bodies only partially embedded and wrapped in branches.
The trees near the edge were also less massive than those deeper in the forest.
Now, these comparatively weaker monstrosities writhed closer, their branches intertwining and contorting into grotesque knots.
Remembering the middle-aged man’s transformation, Mu Congyun refrained from acting rashly this time.
While dodging the flailing branches, he searched for a way to rescue them.
Just as desperation set in, amid the eerie chorus of synchronized chanting, a strangled scream suddenly pierced the air—
“Senior Brother, save me!!”
Mu Congyun turned toward the sound and saw Jin Ni not far away, tears welling in his eyes as he cried out in a voice cracked with desperation, “Senior Brother, save me!”
Half of his body was embedded within a tree, tightly bound by numerous branches.
Only his upper torso and arms remained free, his hands desperately pushing against two grotesque trees attempting to merge with him, preventing them from drawing closer.
“Hold your breath,” Mu Congyun commanded sharply.
No sooner had the words left his lips than his sword, Beitian, transformed into a silver blur, precisely severing the monstrous trees ensnaring Jin Ni without so much as grazing him.
Cleaved in two, the trees released their grip. Jin Ni mustered every ounce of his spiritual energy and leaped upward with all his might— freed from his resistance, the two trees swiftly entwined into a single mass.
Mu Congyun caught him mid-air with his sword, never breaking stride as he shot toward the forest’s edge.
Through the impenetrable, suffocating mist, countless twisted branches, ghostly in their contortions, pursued them.
But Mu Congyun’s sword was swifter.
Relying on memory, he channeled his full power into the blade, hurtling them out of the dense woods in a burst of speed-
Suddenly, daylight pierced through.
The ceaseless whispers in their ears vanished abruptly.
The chasing branches halted at the mist’s boundary, and the world fell into profound silence.
Mu Congyun squinted against the sudden brightness, glancing back at the ancient forest.
Now shrouded in the eerie mist, it bore no trace of its earlier horrors.
He then looked down at Jin Ni, his gaze settling on the hands still clamped around his waist.
His brow furrowed involuntarily. Let go.
Jin Ni, oblivious to the silent command, clung on as if trying to fuse with him.
“Release me,” Mu Congyun finally said, his patience spent.
Only then did Jin Ni sheepishly loosen his grip, though his face soon lit up with glee.
He rubbed his hands together, already envisioning how he’d boast to Second Senior Sister and Little Junior Sister back at Xuanling Sect—he’d hugged Senior Brother’s waist!
He’d even measured it—ridiculously slender, no more than twenty-three inches!
Neither of them had guessed right.
Unaware of Jin Ni’s tangent, Mu Congyun organized his thoughts and cut straight to the point: “What happened?”
At this, Jin Ni’s elation faded, replaced by gravity.
“I don’t know. I just went to sleep and woke up inside that tree.”
He recounted every detail before the incident: “That night, I turned in early. While asleep, I faintly heard Granny Zhao calling my name—
she sounded frantic. Thinking something was wrong, I answered and tried to get up… Then, nothing. No memory at all.”
When he regained consciousness, he was fused with the monstrous tree.
Another instance of being called by name.
Mu Congyun recalled his own dream, filled with incessant calls, and began piecing things together. The hospitable old woman was undoubtedly involved her behavior suggested she knew more than she let on.
The trees in the forest were likely the townsfolk. To uncover the truth and rescue them, they needed to understand the cause.
“Back to town first.”
Having decided, Mu Congyun prepared to return to Nanhuai Town.
But before he could summon his sword, his robe was tugged.
He turned to find Jin Ni sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, grimacing up at him.
“I’ve exhausted my spiritual energy.”
Jin Ni had only reached the peak of the Mortal Shedding Realm-his reserves couldn’t sustain prolonged exertion.
Mu Congyun sighed inwardly and extended his scabbard to him.
Jin Ni immediately understood and grabbed the sword scabbard, following behind him with delight while carefully maintaining some distance.
Outsiders often said the chief disciple of Tianji Palace was cold and aloof, more frigid than the snows of the far north.
But only his closest junior brothers and sisters knew the truth-their eldest senior brother was actually the most soft-hearted and approachable, just a bit taciturn and particular about cleanliness!
*
The two of them rode their swords back to Nanhuai Town.
However, just as they were about to enter the town, they noticed that the previously silent and empty streets were now filled with townsfolk shuffling toward the outskirts.
Their movements were unsteady, their limbs stiff, and they seemed to be heading in the direction of the eerie old forest in the back mountains.
Mu Congyun immediately descended to investigate and found that these people had all lost their senses.
They appeared to be immersed in some kind of delusional scenario, their expressions varying some happy, some sorrowful, some angry.
Yet no matter how much he called out to them, they wouldn’t wake.
They had to stop them-they couldn’t let these people march to their deaths.
Mu Congyun glanced at Jin Ni, who instantly understood.
“Got it!”
With that, he swiftly chopped the neck of the nearest person, knocking them unconscious.
“…”
Mu Congyun met his gaze, his lips twitching slightly.
Jin Ni blinked back at him in confusion.
Though he had a strikingly handsome face, the smudges of mud and streaks of green tree sap on his cheeks made him look a bit dim-witted.
“What’s wrong?”
“Good job,” Mu Congyun said flatly, nodding.
Knocking them out-crude, but effective.
Mu Congyun raised his own sword scabbard.