I Was Forced to Marry a “Trash” Cultivator, But She Turned Out to Be a Reborn Empress!

Shen Xian rode his sword through the air, cutting across the most desolate stretch of the Godfiend Battlefield’s Northern Region.

He had been flying for two days. The further north he went, the thinner the spiritual energy became, replaced by a suffocating, dead silence.

On the evening of the third day, just as the last sliver of sunlight vanished behind blood-red clouds, an indescribable structure loomed on the horizon.

The Bronze Blood Hall.

It was a building that defied all architectural logic. Its geometric form was twisted, with walls slanted at impossible angles. It teetered on the brink of collapse, yet maintained a bizarre, unsettling equilibrium.

The hall’s surface was marred by dark, mottled stains.

A closer look revealed them to be dried blood—countless layers of it, etched into eerie runes on the bronze skin. Under the shifting light, these runes flickered in and out of existence.

But the most terrifying feature was the main gate.

The massive bronze door stood a hundred feet tall, cast in the shape of a distorted human face. The gaping mouth served as the entrance, while two enormous eyeballs acted as door knockers.

As Shen Xian approached, the bronze orbs slowly rotated, fixing their dead gaze directly upon him.

Dozens of fresh corpses littered the ground in front of the hall. Some were frozen in poses of desperate escape. Their bodies were drained of every drop of blood, their skin taking on the same bluish-gray hue as the bronze hall itself.

They were being assimilated. Slowly transforming into part of the structure.

The air reeked of metallic rust and blood, but the tangible pressure was far worse. Shen Xian could feel it—the Bronze Blood Hall was like a slumbering behemoth. Its every breath caused the baleful aura for hundreds of miles to pulse in rhythm.

Clack. Clack.

Hanging from the twisted eaves were wind chimes. They were not made of metal, but strung together from human finger bones, clattering with a hollow, brittle sound in the wind.

“No wonder even Golden Core cultivators hesitate to approach,” Shen Xian murmured, stopping his flight.

He knew little about this place, only that it was an unfinished ancient treasure containing a legacy. It was perilous. Usually, only those at the late Golden Core stage dared to venture inside.

Why Wei Zhaoli had come here remained a mystery.

As he observed the structure, a grinding creak echoed from the main gate.

The corners of the bronze face’s mouth pulled upward, revealing a horrifying, rigid “smile.”

Whoosh!

A gust of Yin wind, heavy with the stench of decay and carrying the whispers of countless dead souls, surged from the hall’s throat.

Hum.

The Li Fire True Seal materialized between Shen Xian’s brows. A faint, warm red glow enveloped his body. This power of utmost Yang was the perfect suppressant for such a vile place.

Since he was already here, there was no reason to retreat.

Shen Xian adjusted his sleeves and stepped forward. As he neared the threshold, the blood-trace runes on the walls began to writhe excitedly, as if welcoming a fresh sacrifice.

He stepped through the massive bronze mouth.

A wave of concentrated rot assaulted his senses. The first floor of the great hall was vast and gloomy. The ground wasn’t paved with stone, but with shattered bone fragments.

Crunch.

Every step produced a teeth-grating sound.

Several fresh corpses lay in the corners. One cultivator still held a hand seal, his face frozen in a rictus of terror. The defensive restrictions on the walls had been violently shattered, and the chaotic residual spiritual energy suggested a fierce battle had just taken place.

Shen Xian paused. A strange vibration buzzed from his storage pouch.

He flipped his hand, revealing a cyan jade talisman. It was a tracking token Wei Zhaoli had personally crafted and given to him.

The talisman glowed faintly. She was here.

Shen Xian refocused, his gaze scanning the hall.

In the center of the room, a spiral staircase led downward. The steps were piled from bleached white bones, and every tier was inlaid with seven blood-red eyeballs. Faint sobbing sounds drifted up from the depths, wailing like wronged souls.

According to his intel, this Blood Hall had five underground levels.

The Humanoid Puppet was on the third.

Shen Xian activated the Void Reflecting Spirit Mirror. His divine sense rode the mirror’s light, diving down the staircase to probe. The restrictions on the second level appeared broken, but the deeper levels were shrouded in a thick blood mist that even his Nascent Soul-level divine sense couldn’t easily penetrate.

Clang.

He summoned the Traceless Sword.

Ancient runes lit up along the blade, casting a crystalline blue halo that pushed back the gloom.

Shen Xian began his descent.

Upon reaching the second level, he found another vast hall. Thick blood mist churned here like a living creature. However, the moment the mist touched the red glow of his Li Fire True Seal, it recoiled as if burned.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Suddenly, the ground erupted.

Several thick blood-colored tentacles shot out, aiming for his vitals.

Shen Xian didn’t even break stride. The Traceless Sword in his hand trembled slightly.

A frost-white sword energy swept out in a perfect circle.

Crack!

The tentacles froze solid three feet away from him. In the next second, they shattered into fine dust.

Shen Xian’s sword tip tapped the ground lightly. Ding.

A chilling cold spread instantly along the bone steps, freezing all the stirring blood runes in the vicinity.

With his Golden Core Perfection cultivation hidden beneath the surface, the dangers of the second level were insignificant.

He continued down.

The third underground level was a mirror image of the second. The restrictions had long been smashed, and fragments of shattered magical artifacts littered the floor. Scorched marks on the walls told the story of brutal combat.

Clearly, the obvious treasures here had been thoroughly plundered by his predecessors.

However, the information Shen Xian obtained from the Ghost King True Spirit told a different story. Beneath this ransacked surface, a secret remained.

He released his divine sense, scanning the northeast corner.

There.

That section of the wall was covered in ferocious ghost faces. The paintings were interwoven in a complex, tangled mess, looking like nothing more than the random graffiti of a madman.

To the naked eye, and even to ordinary divine sense, it was just a wall.

But Shen Xian knew better. Behind this mural lay an independent space.

He fully activated the Void Reflecting Spirit Mirror. Under the mirror’s light, the chaotic lines untangled, revealing the outline of an extremely well-hidden formation. It matched the memory from the Ghost King True Spirit perfectly.

“High grade, but flawed,” Shen Xian noted.

With the Nine Orifices Exquisite Needle assisting his manipulation, he cracked the code in less than a quarter of an hour.

Hum—

As the formation dissipated, the ghost faces on the wall twisted. Their painted mouths opened in silent roars as the mural dissolved like melting wax.

A dark hole was revealed, spewing forth a geyser of baleful energy.

The Li Fire True Seal between Shen Xian’s brows flared brighter, its blazing red light tearing through the darkness.

He stepped inside. The sight that greeted him made even his composed heart skip a beat.

Nine bronze pillars, covered in bizarre runes, were arranged in a ring. Thick black iron chains coiled around the pillars, their ends sinking into a blood pool at the center of the room.

The pool had long since dried up.

Lying quietly at the bottom was a single Humanoid Puppet.

Most of the defensive arrays here had decayed over time, which saved Shen Xian a lot of trouble. He retrieved a specially crafted jade box from his storage pouch, his fingertips lightly brushing the seal on its surface.

Click.

The lid sprang open.

Inside lay a pitch-black bone bead—the fifth-grade Ghost King True Spirit Bead.

Five blood-red patterns writhed like living veins on the surface of the bead, emitting a sinister, pulsating glow.

Shen Xian formed a hand seal. “Rise.”

The bone bead floated up, suspended in the air. The complete Ghost King consciousness within awakened immediately, vibrating with hunger.

“Go!”

With a low shout, Shen Xian pointed a finger. The bead transformed into a streak of black light, shooting straight toward the puppet in the dried blood pool.

Just as the two were about to make contact—

HUM!

Dozens of blood-red restrictions suddenly ignited on the puppet’s skin, weaving into a dense, impenetrable net. These patterns were ancient and complex, containing a powerful repelling force.

Bang!

The net flared, knocking the Ghost King True Spirit Bead flying back.

“Indeed, it’s not that simple…” Shen Xian’s eyes narrowed.

He watched the blood-red patterns flowing across the puppet’s body. They were vaguely forming an ancient sealing formation. To completely refine this puppet would take time—time he might not have.

He was about to try a different method when his expression suddenly shifted.

He turned his head sharply toward the entrance.

Someone was coming.