The Profound Turtle extended its neck, a low, resonant hum vibrating deep within its throat. Its amber vertical pupils were glued to the Purple Immortal Ganoderma in Shen Xian’s hand.

Understanding the creature’s desire, Shen Xian tossed the shimmering purple herb forward.

The turtle swallowed the spiritual herb in one gulp. Instantly, a faint violet radiance enveloped its shell. It slowly closed its eyes, and the mystic Bagua trigram patterns on its carapace came alive, swirling like flowing water.

Threads of golden light rose from the shell, weaving into a hazy net in the air. The projection expanded, covering a radius of several dozen miles.

Suddenly, the Profound Turtle’s eyes snapped open. A brilliant light erupted from its pupils.

The net of light abruptly contracted, condensing into a single, razor-thin golden thread pointing directly northwest. At the end of the thread, a crimson point of light throbbed violently.

“Land of Great Misfortune…”

Shen Xian narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them.

In the world of cultivation, ‘Great Misfortune’ was often a synonym for ‘Great Opportunity’.

The Profound Turtle let out a low growl, the golden light on its back fading. It turned to look at Shen Xian, its eyes flickering with an almost human sense of urgency.

“Let’s go.”

Shen Xian stored the turtle and leaped into the air.

The northwestern sky was an unnatural, bruised crimson. Several spatial cracks hung in the air like vicious, unhealing wounds.

Shen Xian’s robes flapped loudly in the scorching wind as he sped along the path indicated by the golden thread.

After half an hour of flight, a bronze ancient hall appeared on the horizon, half-buried in a shifting sand dune.

The upturned eaves of the roof were shattered, but the ferocious Taotie beast head on the main door remained intact. Its eyes, the size of bronze bells, glowed with an eerie red light.

“This is it.”

Shen Xian landed on a towering stone pillar, squinting as he examined the structure.

The crimson guide point from the Profound Turtle pulsed from within the hall. However, the sandy ground before the entrance was marred by chaotic footprints.

Someone had beaten him to it.

ROAR!

An ear-splitting bellow erupted from within, causing the entire hall to tremble. Several shrill, agonized screams followed, then… dead silence.

“Triggered a restriction,” Shen Xian muttered.

His figure drifted toward the ancient hall like a ghost.

As he approached the door, a faint tremor rippled beneath his boots.

Hiss—

Countless black patterns emerged from the sand, converging toward him like living creatures. Shen Xian tapped his toes lightly, soaring higher. The black patterns missed their target and reared up like venomous snakes, giving chase in mid-air.

Shen Xian formed his fingers into a sword.

A frost-white sword aura swept out.

Wherever the aura passed, the black patterns froze and shattered into dust. But more surged from all directions, weaving a massive net to entrap him.

Shen Xian merely raised an eyebrow. He swung his fingers again.

Slash.

Amidst flashes of snowy light, a tear ripped open in the net. He seized the opportunity and dropped silently into the hall.

A thick, metallic scent of blood assaulted him immediately.

Several corpses lay strewn haphazardly on the floor. Their vital essence and blood had been completely drained, leaving only dry skin clinging to bone.

The interior was dimly lit, with only a few bronze lamps emitting a faint, ghostly green glow.

In the center stood a raised platform. Suspended above it was a blood-colored jade slip—the source of the crimson light.

Shen Xian took a step forward, then suddenly shifted his body three feet to the left.

Whoosh!

A crimson shortsword grazed past his sleeve, embedding itself deeply into the stone pillar behind him. The blade sank in over three inches, humming with vicious force.

“Isn’t this the Shen Family’s illustrious Third Young Master?”

A voice laced with mockery drifted down from the ceiling.

Shen Xian looked up. A young man in crimson-gold robes stood in mid-air. His features were handsome but marred by a sharp, arrogant cruelty.

A member of the Lin Family.

Shen Xian’s gaze flicked to the jade token at the man’s waist. A wisp of sword aura quietly gathered at his fingertip. The Shen and Lin families had been blood enemies for generations.

He remained silent, his spiritual sense sweeping the shadows to check for other ambushes.

The young man drifted down, deliberately stomping his boot into a pool of fresh blood. Red droplets splattered everywhere.

He noticed the faint energy at Shen Xian’s fingertip and sneered. “Oh? A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator, and you’re thinking of fighting back? Do you think getting first place in a clan trial makes you anything other than trash?”

He scrutinized Shen Xian brazenly, his eyes filled with condescending pity. “Or are you relying on your Holy Son brother’s reputation, thinking you can swagger around ancient ruins without consequence?”

In his eyes, Shen Xian was an ant.

Shen Xian didn’t reply. He glanced at the desiccated corpses. Judging by their attire, they were the attendants this man had brought along. He hadn’t even spared his own people.

“Cat got your tongue?”

The young man scoffed, playing with a wisp of Heart-Burning Fire between his fingers. “Running into me, Lin Ya, is the end of your luck.”

He announced his name loudly, expecting to see panic. As Lin Lang’s younger brother, his Late-Stage Golden Core cultivation gave him ample reason to be arrogant.

“Trash will always be trash,” Lin Ya curled his lip. “Can’t even utter a word. Scum like you… are you even worthy of breathing the air in this ruin?”

He began to pace around Shen Xian.

“You know, the entire Azure Province laughs at your Shen Family. A waste with a ninth-grade spiritual root, burning mountains of resources just to barely reach Foundation Establishment. You even need a woman to protect you…”

Lin Ya stopped abruptly, his voice turning cold. “Tell me, if you die here, will your Holy Son brother cry?”

Before the words faded, Lin Ya struck!

Nine fiery serpents shot out simultaneously, weaving into a net of scorching flames that sealed off all escape routes.

“Die!”

At the same moment, Shen Xian moved.

He didn’t dodge. He simply raised his right hand.

An invisible barrier abruptly unfolded. The fiery serpents crashed against it and vanished without a trace, as if swallowed by a swamp.

“What?!”

Lin Ya’s face twisted in shock. He hurriedly formed hand seals to cast another spell.

Too slow.

A brilliant sword light flashed like sudden thunder.

Pu—

The light pierced directly through his throat.

“You…”

Lin Ya clutched his neck, blood spurting between his fingers. His eyes bulged in disbelief. “Impossible… you’re clearly…”

Shen Xian sheathed his sword, watching the body slowly collapse.

“Too much talk,” he said softly.

Suddenly, a change occurred.

Lin Ya’s corpse began to convulse violently. Copious amounts of black blood gushed from his seven orifices. The blood wriggled on the ground, coalescing into a sinister rune.

“A blood curse?” Shen Xian frowned.

The rune shot up, flying straight for his face.

Unfortunately for the curse, Shen Xian was currently at the Golden Core Perfection stage. He didn’t even blink.

The Profound Heaven Golden Silk Armor beneath his robes erupted with a golden light screen, blocking the attack instantly.

An icy voice projected from the burning rune: “Dare to kill my brother, Lin Lang? Whoever you are, I will make you wish for death!”

The pressure in the voice caused the entire hall to tremble.

Shen Xian ignored it completely, turning his gaze back to the blood-colored jade slip.

The enemy had left such a treasure out in the open. It was obviously bait.

He didn’t approach. Instead, a golden light flashed in his pupils as he activated the Void Reflecting Spirit Mirror.

The scene before him changed.

The floating jade slip was actually entangled by countless blood threads, fine as hair. The other ends of these threads were connected to the hearts of every desiccated corpse in the hall.

“So that’s it…”

A faint, lazy smile touched Shen Xian’s lips. “A soul-devouring trap, using vital essence as the trigger.”

Creak.

Suddenly, the corpses on the ground began to move.