Three days later.

The overseer team leader gasped for air as he dragged himself out of bed. Despite a full night’s sleep, his body screamed in protest. His muscles ached as if he’d been beaten, and his legs trembled so violently he could barely stand.

He stumbled to the bronze mirror and froze.

The reflection staring back was unrecognizable. His once-plump, oily face had withered away, leaving loose skin hanging off his cheekbones. Dark circles bruised his eyes, and he looked like a man who hadn’t slept—or eaten—in weeks.

“I don’t understand… I’ve been popping Vitality Pills like candy every day. How did I end up like this?”

A cold knot of panic tightened in his gut. He reached up to pinch his hollowed cheek, only to notice something even more terrifying: his palms were covered in thick, rough calluses.

“This… what in the hells is going on?”

A chill ran down his spine, making the hair on his arms stand on end. “Is there something wrong with that mine shaft?”

“No, that doesn’t make sense. Yesterday I took two subordinates to watch Big Qi work. They’re fine. Why am I the only one wasting away?”

Realization struck him like a thunderbolt.

“Sorcery! Someone is using demonic arts on me!”

Terror flooded his face. “I can’t go back there. That place is cursed. Today, I’m taking a sick day. No, I’m quitting.”

“As for that laborer, Big Qi… he’s just a slave. I’ll find an excuse to have him executed later to be safe…”

Swallowing hard, he hurriedly threw on his clothes and splashed water on his face, planning to run to his superior and beg for leave.

But the moment he stepped out the door, his mind went blank.

His eyes glazed over, losing all focus. His body pivoted on its own, ignoring his internal screams, and marched mechanically back toward the mine.

Inside a secluded mining tunnel.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The fat overseer, face pale as a sheet and eyes dead to the world, swung the heavy pickaxe with the rhythm of a machine. He struck the rock wall again and again, unaware of the limits of his own flesh.

Two other overseers stood guard at the entrance, ensuring no one interrupted the “work.”

Deeper in the cave, Qi Yuan sat cross-legged on a smooth stone, his expression calm as he browsed his system interface.

[Hidden Condition Met. New Side Mission Activated.]

[Item Analysis]: You have obtained a mysterious small cauldron. This item is identified as the High Grade Immortal Artifact: Mixed Sky Creation Cauldron.

Function: Can smelt all things, reverting them to their Primordial Origin. (Injecting Origin Power into other artifacts can upgrade their tier. The effect depends on the quantity of Origin Power.)

Status: Severely Damaged.

[Mission Objective]: Search the world for the scattered fragments of the cauldron to repair the Mixed Sky Creation Cauldron.

Difficulty: ★★★★★ (Extremely Difficult)

Reward: For every repair completed, the Host will obtain a wisp of Heavenly Dao Creation Qi.

Note: This is a long-term mission with no time limit. No penalty for failure.

Qi Yuan read the shimmering golden text, his expression complicated.

The good news: He had snagged a High Grade Immortal Artifact—a treasure that would make even great sects go to war. The bad news: It was a piece of junk.

The mission briefing explained what the cauldron did, but it gave zero clues about where the fragments were. Finding them would be harder than fishing a needle out of the ocean.

“At least there’s no deadline,” Qi Yuan mused. “It’s a passive quest. If I find a piece, great. If not, I lose nothing.”

He closed the interface and glanced toward the tunnel entrance.

“Judging by the time, the guests from the Exquisite Sanctuary should be arriving soon.”

Splurt.

A sudden sound broke the rhythm of the mining.

The fat overseer froze mid-swing, then sprayed a mist of blood onto the rock face. His body went rigid before crashing backward onto the dusty floor. He didn’t twitch.

Dead.

Qi Yuan barely batted an eye. He shook his head with feigned disappointment.

“Look at that. Big and burly on the outside, but completely hollow on the inside. Worked to death in just a few days? These Demonic Sect disciples really need to hit the gym.”

He felt zero sympathy. Every overseer in this mine had gallons of innocent blood on their hands. Shooting them a hundred times would still be too merciful.

If Qi Yuan had been a normal Foundation Building cultivator, the corpse on the ground would have been him.

“You two, come in here.”

The two guards entered instantly.

“Your team leader swung his whip too hard and died of exhaustion,” Qi Yuan said dryly. “Take him outside and bury him somewhere.”

“Understood.”

The two overseers, completely enslaved by the Thousand Illusions Demon Eye, nodded blankly. They hoisted the corpse by the arms and legs and marched out with robotic precision.

A few minutes later, a commotion erupted outside the tunnel.

Miners dying of exhaustion was a daily occurrence. But an overseer dying from supervising too hard? That was a first.

“What? The boss died?!”

“How is that possible? Since when do overseers work that hard?”

“It’s almost the end of the year,” one miner whispered, his voice trembling. “He probably wanted that ‘Best Employee’ bonus. He worked so much overtime whipping us that his heart gave out…”

The laborers exchanged terrified glances. The despair in their eyes deepened.

This place really is Hell on Earth. Even the supervisors are worked to death. What chance do we have?

Meanwhile.

Several hundred miles away, in a dense, ancient forest.

Zip! Zip! Zip!

The tranquil air suddenly warped. A spatial rift tore open silently, like a blade slicing through silk.

Dozens of slender, graceful figures darted out from the void.

They were female cultivators dressed in flowing robes with pleated skirts. Though their styles varied, every collar bore the embroidered crest of the Exquisite Sanctuary.

Leading them was a woman who appeared no older than twenty. Her hair was styled in twin buns, and her features were delicate and refined. Colorful ribbons danced around her waist as she moved, giving her an ethereal, fairy-like grace.

But beneath that gentle appearance lay the crushing pressure of a mountain. She was a powerhouse at the peak of the Soul Formation realm.

Behind her, the disciples were no pushovers either—the weakest among them was at the early Nascent Soul stage.

“Sisters.”

The leader gazed solemnly in the direction of the mine. Her voice was soft but carried absolute authority.

“We have our orders. We are to eradicate this Crimson Gold mine belonging to the Nether Fiend Sect and liberate the laborers.”

“Intelligence states the stronghold is commanded by a mid-Nascent Soul cultivator named Situ Yun. The Headmaster has given strict instructions: if we encounter him, he must be captured alive. Do not kill him.”

Her eyes narrowed, turning cold.

“As for the rest of the Demonic Sect filth? Leave no one alive.”

“We obey the decree!”

The disciples answered in unison, their expressions sharpening into focused determination.

For the Exquisite Sanctuary, this was a standard demon-slaying operation.

Although the Great War between the Righteous and Demonic paths had cooled, skirmishes never ceased. This mine sat on the border of the Five Regions Demon Domain, a small zit on the face of the Demonic Sects. Popping it wouldn’t start a war.

“Remember,” the leader added, “the priority is securing the enemy commander.”

“Make it quick. We strike hard and fast before their reinforcements can react.”

With a wave of her sleeve, she transformed into a streak of brilliant light, shooting toward the horizon.

“Yes!”

The disciples followed instantly, a meteor shower of righteous fury descending upon the unsuspecting mine.