The sky above the Blood Fiend Thunder Prison buckled. With a violent crack, a bolt of crimson lightning tore through the firmament, striking the parched earth.

In the wake of the strike, dozens of bronze puppets erupted from the soil, their joints grinding with a metallic shriek. They were draped in heavy, blood-soaked chains, and ghostly green fires flickered within their hollow sockets.

“Stay behind me!” Shen Xian commanded, stepping in front of Wei Zhaoli. With a sharp ring of steel, the [Wuchen Sword] cleared its scabbard, its blade shimmering with a cold, ethereal light.

Heaven’s Abyss Shines on Snow Sword Scripture!

He swung. A river of silver light cascaded through the air, carrying a bone-chilling frost. The first three puppets caught in the arc didn’t just stop; they froze solid in an instant before shattering into a thousand icy shards. As they broke, a faint, harrowing scream echoed in the air—not the sound of metal, but of trapped, agonized souls.

There was no time to ponder the ethics of their construction. More puppets surged forward, their chains rattling like a funeral dirge. Shen Xian’s figure blurred. His Golden Core Perfection cultivation erupted, a silent explosion of power that turned every puppet in his path into sparkling crystal dust.

Yet, as he prepared to clear the field, the prison itself rebelled.

Boom!

The bloody thunder roared like a cornered beast. The sky rained “mad dragons” of crimson electricity that hammered the earth with rhythmic violence. Several bolts struck the protective barrier Shen Xian had erected around Wei Zhaoli, spiderweb cracks spreading across the light shield.

Shen Xian’s heart lurched. He turned to aid her, but three pillars of blood-red lightning, each as thick as a man’s torso, slammed down in his path, hemming him in.

Another bolt blasted the formation. The shield groaned, a fist-sized hole appearing near the top. Wei Zhaoli gripped her [White Jade Ruyi], her knuckles white as she funneled her remaining Qi into the artifact to plug the gap. Her face was ashen, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Worst of all, the shattered bronze remains of the puppets began to writhe on the ground, reassembling themselves within the lightning’s glow.

“Enough,” Shen Xian hissed. He summoned the [Sky-Burning Cauldron].

The True Spirit Treasure hummed as it appeared, its bronze body etched with red runes that blazed with the heat of a miniature sun. Within its depths, a fire dragon artifact-spirit let out a muted roar. Even without Shen Xian’s full focus, the cauldron’s inherent Yang energy acted as a natural antithesis to the corruption around them.

Whoosh!

The cauldron inverted in mid-air. A torrent of [Sky-Burning True Fire] erupted, a golden-crimson vortex that incinerated the bloody lightning on contact. The reassembling puppets didn’t stand a chance; the intense heat melted their frames into bubbling puddles of slag.

Crisis momentarily averted, Shen Xian leaped to Wei Zhaoli’s side, his sword severing the trailing sparks of electricity. “Are you holding up?”

She shook her head weakly, her strength clearly flagging.

Shen Xian’s jaw set. He couldn’t keep fighting on two fronts. He needed to refine the humanoid puppet now, or they would eventually be buried under the sheer weight of the prison’s malice. Searching his storage bag, he produced a talisman etched with shimmering gold patterns: the [Vajra Spirit-Protection Talisman].

He activated it instantly. A robust, semi-transparent golden dome enveloped Wei Zhaoli. “Rest and recover. I’m going to finish the refinement.”

He sat cross-legged, the third-layer humanoid puppet laid out before him, and summoned the [Ghost King True Spirit Pearl]. This puppet was a masterpiece of mechanical and spiritual engineering, locked behind dozens of intricate restrictions.

He reached for the [Nine-Aperture Exquisite Needle].

With the precision of a master surgeon and the aid of Shen Yanchi’s array disk, he began the work. His left hand blurred through seals while the needle shot from his sleeve, piercing the puppet’s vital acupoints. At the needle’s tip, the [Spirit Rhinoceros Pearl] glowed, dissecting the structural logic of the seals.

Outside the golden dome, the world was ending. Lightning hammered the [Vajra] shield, sending ripples through the golden light. Puppets beat against the barrier, their green eyes fixed on the man inside.

Shen Xian remained a statue. Under the [Profound Origin Condensing True Art], his mind was a placid lake. He ignored the thunder and the shrieking metal, his spiritual power dancing through the needle to snap the blood-red restrictions one by one.

Half an hour passed.

Suddenly, a piercing crimson light erupted from the puppet’s chest. Shen Xian’s eyes snapped open. He slammed the [Ghost King True Spirit Pearl] into the puppet’s brow.

“Merge!”

The space groaned. Deep black lines snaked across the puppet’s bronze skin, squirming like living veins until they formed a terrifying, archaic totem. Shen Xian’s fingers traced a final seal, and the [Li Fire True Seal] flared between his brows, sending a wisp of golden flame into the machine.

Roar!

The puppet let out a low, vibrating growl. Its bronze shell cracked and sloughed off, revealing a sleek, obsidian-colored metal beneath. This was no longer a mere tool; it possessed the crushing presence of a Third-Tier combatant.

For the final step, Shen Xian bit his tongue and sprayed a mist of [Essence Blood] across the puppet’s chest. “With my blood, I forge your spirit!”

The black veins turned a deep, throbbing red. The puppet shook, its metamorphosis reaching its zenith just as the [Vajra] shield finally shattered with a sound like breaking crystal.

Lightning fell. Puppets charged.

“Rise!” Shen Xian bellowed.

The obsidian puppet’s eyes ignited with a sentient blue flame. In a flash of black light, it intercepted a bolt of lightning meant for its master, crossing its heavy arms to absorb the impact. It stood tall, several cracks marring its new skin, but unyielding.

Shen Xian wiped the blood from his lip, a cold smile touching his face. The refinement was a success. “Guard her.”

The puppet nodded with a mechanical click. Its fingers elongated into ten-inch obsidian blades, razor-sharp and humming with dark power.

Shen Xian turned to Wei Zhaoli. “It will keep you safe.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Gripping the [Wuchen Sword], he turned toward the remaining horde and vanished into a blur of silver light, taking the fight back to the prison.