Chapter 151: Jinli Stone Secured

Before the words had even faded, Jin Hao turned to leave. But he had barely taken two steps when a dense white mist suddenly rose from all corners of the underground palace. It appeared without warning, starting as a thin veil before instantly thickening into a heavy, syrupy fog that rolled inward from the edges to completely envelop the chamber.

Jin Hao stopped in his tracks, his face paling.

"Not good, Great Elder! We've been discovered. This mist is strange—I can't see through it at all!"

As he spoke, he backed toward the old man, his tone carrying a rare trace of tension. To cultivators, the fear of the unknown was often sharper than any blade. Right now, he could see nothing, and his divine sense was heavily suppressed, as if he had stumbled headfirst into a burlap sack.

The old man said nothing. His brow furrowed as he expanded his divine sense outward. Fortunately, the underground palace was not too large; even with the white mist suppressing sensory perception, he could still cover the entire area. But as he swept his senses around, his expression shifted slightly.

In the center of the underground palace, a tall, dark silhouette loomed faintly within the mist above the scorched earth. The figure stood with his back to the old man, reaching out toward the Jinli Stone resting on the black reef.

"How dare you!"

The old man let out a sharp shout, and a streak of red light shot out from his sleeve.

The red light condensed in midair, transforming into a palm-sized crimson disc. Spinning at high speed with a sharp whistle, it slashed straight toward the dark silhouette. The figure seemed unable to dodge in time; the disc sliced through his chest, and his upper body slid sideways, hitting the ground and dissolving into a wisp of green smoke.

Despite landing a successful blow, the old man showed no signs of joy.

How could a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator be slain so easily?

Alarm flared in his heart as his gaze frantically swept his surroundings.

Deep within the white mist, another dark silhouette slowly condensed. The disc flew again, shattering it, but as the silhouette fell apart, a new figure emerged from another direction. Soon came a second, a third, and more, until over a dozen appeared in the blink of an eye.

The old man's heart sank. He waved his hands repeatedly, sending out two more streaks of red light. Three discs spun simultaneously, slicing through and annihilating the approaching silhouettes one by one.

The nearest remnant hit the ground, flailing twice before landing at the old man's feet. He glanced down: the thing was completely dark blue and translucent, with sharp fangs and claws—clearly a puppet forged from a human soul.

Just as his heart tightened, a chill ran down his spine.

A golden longsword silently pierced through his heart. The tip protruded from his chest, carrying a scorching Sword Intent.

The old man looked down at the glowing golden blade, his pupils contracting. He slowly turned his head and met the gaze of "Jin Hao." Those eyes were bone-chillingly cold, completely lacking Jin Hao's usual rugged demeanor.

"You..."

The old man's voice was hoarse, as if the word had been squeezed from his throat. The vitality in his body was draining rapidly, and his Nascent Soul was suppressed by the Sword Intent of that blow, unable to escape his body for the moment.

Jiuyou said nothing. He pulled out the sword, sidestepped, and kicked the old man away.

The old man crashed against the rock wall, letting out a grunt as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. Struggling to his feet, he raised his hand to recall the three crimson discs, hurling them with all his might toward Jiuyou.

But by the time he threw them, Jiuyou was no longer there.

Wrapped in the Heavenly Wind Robe, a streak of blue-gray escape light flashed, and he appeared in the center of the scorched earth. With a casual wave of his hand, he stowed the zhang-wide Jinli Stone into his storage pouch.

The three discs grazed the spot where he had just stood, slicing into the rock wall and leaving three deep grooves. The old man tried to summon the discs again, but the spiritual energy lingering around the penetrating wound in his chest continually interfered with his magic, preventing him from exerting his full strength.

Jiuyou did not look back. He blurred into a streak of blue-gray escape light and headed toward the exit of the underground palace, casually pocketing the array flags of the white mist formation on his way.

Behind him, the old man let out a hoarse, muffled roar that caught in his throat before being swallowed by the white mist.

Jiuyou did not stop. After flying out of the treasury, his escape light showed no hesitation. He climbed straight up, soared over Heavenly Flame City, and sped toward the northwest.

Guards in the city noticed the disturbance. Looking up, they saw that the escape light had already faded to a tiny dot, quickly merging into the night sky.

Behind him, the old man's eyes were bloodshot, blood energy surging around his body. He smashed straight through the ceiling of the treasury, crashing his way out. Every solid rock wall in his path shattered to dust, sending up billowing clouds of debris.

Close behind, several streaks of blood-colored escape light rapidly caught up to the old man. The leading figure looked to be around forty or fifty years old, with a solid build and a calm expression. Glancing in the direction Jiuyou had vanished, he asked in a deep voice:

"Big brother, what happened?"

The old man spat out a mouthful of blood. The wound on his chest, where he had been pierced by the longsword, was healing at a visible rate. Once the residual spiritual energy from the sword was expelled, his flesh regenerated on its own, recovering from most of the damage in just a few breaths.

But his anger did not diminish in the slightest. His voice was heavy, speaking through gritted teeth:

"Stop asking and chase him! We absolutely cannot let that man escape!"

Hearing this, the others said nothing. Seven streaks of blood-colored escape light shot into the sky simultaneously, tearing through the air and chasing in the direction Jiuyou had fled. Their speed was astonishing, leaving long trails in their wake.

Yet half a day passed, and not only did they fail to catch sight of him, but they couldn't even capture a shred of his lingering aura. That blue-gray escape light had seemingly evaporated into thin air, vanishing completely from the wilderness.

The old man hovered in midair, staring into the empty distance, his chest heaving violently. He threw his head back and let out a furious roar, his hoarse voice echoing far across the barren desert:

"Who are you? Who the hell are you?! Damn you, people of Ganzhou!!!"

His anger triggered his internal injuries, causing him to cough up two more mouthfuls of blood. The men beside him quickly stepped forward to support him, but he pushed them away, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The sturdy man he called "Second Brother" stood silently for a moment before speaking:

"Big brother, don't panic. This man managed to sneak into Heavenly Flame City right under our noses, so he must be at least a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator. If he is truly a Grand Cultivator from Ganzhou, he must have left some traces behind. We can send men to investigate later, checking which major sects' Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivators have been active near the Quanzhou border recently. We might find a match."

The old man gasped for breath, forcibly suppressing the surging blood and energy within his body. After a long silence, he finally nodded.

At that very moment, thousands of miles away, Jiuyou's situation was far from good.

While desperately urging the Heavenly Clarity Bell into action, he pressed down hard on the baleful aura surging within his body.

The baleful aura had begun to stir when he slew that Nascent Soul Early Stage physical cultivator. Later, although he hadn't struck a fatal blow when stabbing the Nascent Soul Late Stage old man from behind, that sword stroke had still stirred up the killing intent that had long been accumulating within him.

Now, the baleful aura rushed eagerly through his meridians like a pent-up undercurrent, repeatedly battering against his seals. The disguise on his face had long since dissipated due to his unstable magic, revealing his original pale, youthful features.

He gritted his teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, and two lines of blood seeped from their corners, trickling down his cheeks to mix with the bloody foam spilling from his mouth and dripping onto his robes. The spiritual light around him flickered on and off like a flickering candle in the wind, on the verge of collapsing.

After flying for another few thousand miles, he forced himself to channel the last dregs of his energy, pressing the baleful aura back into the depths of his dantian.

The baleful aura was barely suppressed, but all the strength in his body drained away. His consciousness blurred, and his escape light traced a crooked arc through the air. He completely lost consciousness, plummeting downward like a falling stone into the depths of the wilderness.