Stepping through the jagged spatial rift felt like passing through a curtain of cold, wet silk. As the distortion vanished, the third layer of the trial grounds slammed into their senses.

Shen Xian narrowed his eyes against the oppressive, rust-colored sky. The entire world was drenched in a sickening, dark-red glow, as if the very air were saturated with old blood. Beneath his boots, the ground was a jagged carpet of translucent crimson crystals. With every step, a viscous, syrupy liquid seeped from the fissures, clinging to the leather of his boots in thin, thready strands that looked uncomfortably like veins.

In the far distance, seven monolithic stone pillars pierced the churning blood clouds. Massive bronze chains, each link the size of a wagon, coiled around the stone before disappearing into the crimson mists above.

“According to the map from the Saintess, our path lies through the Blood Mist Canyon,” Bai Qingyao said, her voice tight with focus. She withdrew a flickering jade slip, her face illuminated by its pale light.

The killing intent in the atmosphere here was palpable, a heavy weight pressing against their spiritual seas. While the Saintess’s map promised a “safer” route, safety was a relative term in a place that smelled of slaughter.

“Wait, the jade slip indicates a narrow auxiliary path here…” Bai Qingyao paused as they reached the mouth of a jagged gorge.

Before she could scan the area, Fu Shuang stepped forward. The jade ornaments at her waist chimed with a frantic rhythm. “I’ll scout ahead!” she declared, her plump face tight with a strange, frantic energy.

Hidden within her sleeve, her fingers brushed the [Soul-Devouring Incense] her master had bestowed upon her. This is it, she thought, her heart hammering. One way or another, this arrogant wretch will pay.

She produced a weathered bronze mirror, its surface shimmering with a pale, sickly light. “I have the [Mystic Light Mirror]. It can pierce the fog and illuminate the ley lines. It’s safer if I lead.”

Bai Qingyao, trusting her senior sister’s specialty in detection, gave a short nod.

Fu Shuang moved into the mist, her figure becoming a ghostly silhouette. As soon as she rounded a protruding shard of blood-crystal, her hands moved with practiced, viper-like speed. She shook a fine, silver powder from her sleeve, the grains vanishing into the red haze.

Hmph. Let the swarm come, she sneered inwardly. Let’s see how you play the ‘lofty expert’ when your soul is being picked clean by insects.

The resentment she bore for the spirit stones and treasures she’d been forced to hand over had curdled into a murderous obsession. If she killed him here, she wouldn’t just get her treasures back—she’d return to the sect as a hero who had slain a dangerous demonic cultivator.

“I found it!” Fu Shuang’s voice echoed through the canyon, unnaturally loud. She used a beam of light from her mirror to trace a glowing path along the ground. “This trail is clear! Follow the mark!”

As she spoke, she subtly dumped the remainder of the silver powder directly onto the path she had highlighted.

Bai Qingyao turned to Shen Xian. “Fellow Daoist, we—”

“Hold.” Shen Xian raised a hand, his eyes cold and distant.

Suddenly, a streak of crimson [Qi] lashed out from his sleeve like a venomous snake, the air screaming as it sliced through the mist. The blood thread wrapped around Fu Shuang’s ankle with the force of a steel trap. She gasped, the sensation cold and biting.

“Since Fairy Fu is so confident in her path,” Shen Xian’s voice was a low, mocking drawl, “perhaps she should demonstrate its safety with a few more steps?”

“What are you doing! Release me!” Fu Shuang screamed, her fingers blurring as she tried to form a counter-seal. To her horror, her [Spiritual Power] felt as if it were being swallowed by an endless abyss.

Yang Tiantian’s eyes flared with anger, her Golden Core hummed as she prepared to strike Shen Xian from the side. But before anyone could react, Shen Xian’s finger gave a casual, upward flick.

Whoosh!

Fu Shuang was hoisted into the air like a ragdoll. She barely had time to let out a panicked yelp before she was hurled through the air, landing with a heavy thud exactly upon the silver-powdered mark.

The silence that followed lasted only a heartbeat.

Then, the blood mist began to boil. The ground groaned, and a thick, stinking black ichor bubbled up from the crystalline cracks.

Fu Shuang’s eyes widened as she saw the silver powder she had scattered reacting with the ichor, producing a pungent, emerald-green smoke.

Hiss. Hiss. Hiss.

From every crevice, thousands of black beetles—each no larger than a fingernail—erupted in a skittering wave. Their carapaces were etched with glowing red runes that pulsed like tiny hearts.

“Blood Pattern Soul-Devouring Insects…” Bai Qingyao whispered, her face draining of color. “And they’re mutated!”

“Junior Sister, save me!” Fu Shuang scrambled to her feet, but her movements were sluggish. The silver powder had coated her robes, and the “Soul-Devouring” fragrance was already clogging her meridians.

“Senior Sister, run!” Bai Qingyao barked, casting a beam of purifying light that vaporized a patch of the swarm. But the insects were endless, and she couldn’t use her full power for fear of catching Fu Shuang in the crossfire.

“Ahhh!” A sharp, metallic screech preceded the first bite. An insect pierced Fu Shuang’s protective [Qi] and sank its mandibles into her ankle. It felt like a branding iron being pressed into her bone.

The pain shattered her focus. Her defensive barrier flickered and died. In an instant, the black tide swept over her. Her screams turned into a wet, gurgling distortion as the insects began to burrow.

“No… no, this wasn’t… ahhh!”

The other disciples watched, paralyzed by the sheer horror of it. They took step after step backward as the swarm turned Fu Shuang into a wriggling, black mound. Within moments, the screaming stopped.

Shen Xian stood unmoved. With a casual flick of his wrist, he used a thread of [Qi] to snatch the bronze mirror and Fu Shuang’s storage ring from the carnage before the insects could consume them. He crushed the mirror between his fingers, revealing a hidden compartment caked with silver dust.

“You… you monster!” Yang Tiantian shrieked, her finger trembling as she pointed at him. “You killed her! You threw her to them!”

She turned to the others, her voice rising in a hysterical pitch. “You see? I told you! Righteousness and evil cannot coexist! These demonic cultivators are all cold-blooded, heartless animals!”

Shen Xian’s blood thread began to weave a slow, rhythmic circle around his hand. He looked at her with a chilling, half-smile. “Is that so? Would you like to go down there and ask her if it was worth it? I’m sure there’s enough silver powder left on the ground for one more.”

The overwhelming pressure of a Foundation Establishment peak—bolstered by a soul strength that felt like a Soul Formation titan—erupted from him.

Yang Tiantian’s voice died in her throat. She stood there, mouth agape, looking for all the world like a duck with its neck wrung.

“Fellow Daoist Shen,” Bai Qingyao said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “You owe us an explanation. She was my sect sister.”

Shen Xian didn’t answer. He simply tossed the silver storage ring to her.

Bai Qingyao caught it, her divine sense sweeping through the contents. Her eyes widened. Inside were five vials of silver powder, all meticulously labeled: [Soul-Devouring Incense Antidote].

She looked at the tattered, insect-covered remains of Fu Shuang, then at the silver residue on the “safe path.”

“She hid the incense in her sleeve, the catalyst in the mirror, and the bait on the road,” Shen Xian said, his voice flat. “If I hadn’t sensed the trap, it would be my bones those beetles were polishing right now.”

Bai Qingyao’s knees nearly buckled. The logic was undeniable. The map said this was a safe zone; the only variable was Fu Shuang’s “scouting.”

“Shut up, Yang Tiantian,” Bai Qingyao hissed as the other girl tried to protest. “She set a trap for our ‘ally’ in a death zone. She reaped exactly what she sowed.”

Bai Qingyao took a deep breath and bowed low to Shen Xian, her forehead nearly touching the blood-soaked crystals. “Fellow Daoist… please forgive my ignorance. I did not realize my own sister was so… depraved.”

Shen Xian didn’t bother acknowledging the apology. He turned and began walking deeper into the crimson haze. “Follow or stay. I don’t care.”

Bai Qingyao straightened up, her eyes cold as she looked at the remaining disciples. “Keep your mouths shut about what happened today. If word of this reaches the Saintess, you’ll be the ones scouting the next canyon.”