Chapter 696: Can That Soul-Possessing Elder of Yours Still Hold On?

A fresh, pale-green light poured down through the hideous crack in the trunk of the ten-thousand-year-old luminous banyan, dispersing some of the ashen death energy that filled the underground space.

The tens of thousands of spirit races still held their bent-over, life-giving poses. Their countless wisps of faint yet pure vitality gathered into a visible, light-green river, slowly flowing into the depths of the wounded banyan’s root marrow.

Su Ming sat leaning against the far side of a half-collapsed rock at the mouth of the underground river, quietly watching it all.

The faint blue gleam of his observation micro state had not entirely faded from his eyes. In that colorless field of vision, it was clear that the spirit races’ offering of life was not without cost.

Each time they gave up a wisp of vitality, the glow of their own origin dimmed a little. Some of the plant spirits who had only just taken human form were already showing signs of withering, their leaves and branches turning yellow, yet not one of them stopped midway.

Su Ming slowly drew back his gaze and looked toward the enormous pit of rotten rock ahead, blasted open by the Manifestation Realm cultivator’s self-detonation.

The death energy there had been sealed inside the isolated pit, but the lingering ripples of laws left behind by the mighty being’s death still circled at the bottom.

Faintly, among the purple-black remains of the bone armor reduced to ash, one or two fragments of a death core glimmered with an uncanny light.

His left hand, hidden beneath his broad sleeve, twitched slightly. His thumb habitually rubbed over his lifebound formation plate, its surface riddled with scorch marks.

Though the Manifestation Realm cultivator from the Dark Current Sect had been forced to self-detonate, the death core was bound to contain extremely violent laws of deathly stillness. It might even bear a spiritual sense imprint cast from afar by the Lord of the Nether Abyss.

His spiritual energy was already nearly depleted. To force himself to touch the remnants of laws of that level would be no different from throwing an egg against a rock. One careless move, and death energy could flood backward through his meridians into his Golden Core.

More importantly, Elder Woodheart’s spiritual sense enveloped the area above, while the ten-thousand-year-old elders of the Qiming Royal Court watched from behind. As an outsider, if he showed greed for the spoils of war at such a crucial moment, the trust he had won by risking his life would vanish in an instant.

After only half a breath, Su Ming completely turned his gaze away from the fragments of the death core, without the slightest reluctance.

The Profound Shadow Crow, which had been crouched on Su Ming’s shoulder the whole time, also felt the temptation of the death energy at the bottom of the pit.

The purple-gold markings along the edges of its ink-black feathers grew faintly hot. Its short beak opened and closed, letting out a low, yearning cry as it leaned forward, seeming ready to spread its wings and fly toward the pit of rotten rock to devour the remnants of those laws.

“Hold back. Don’t go flying off.”

Without turning around, Su Ming raised his right hand and gently rested his palm on Shadow’s back.

A cool, gentle stream of Ruo Shui spiritual energy flowed from his palm, slowly soothing the greed stirred within Shadow by her agitated bloodline.

Sensing her master’s will, Shadow pecked Su Ming’s collar in dissatisfaction, but obediently folded her wings and tucked her head into her neck feathers.

Deep within the Xuantian ring, Lin Yu’s solid, dark-gold Soul Body swayed faintly in the gloom.

.......

Although the aftershocks of the battle had just passed, with the formations and the elders risking their lives to block most of them, a few gray-white frost flowers had still inevitably appeared on the surfaces of the sleeping soul cocoons. They signified that, as the death energy continued to erode them, their vitality had dwindled by another imperceptible sliver.

The elder Chiyan, dragging his maimed body with only one arm left, strode over to Qingheng. His fiery red beard and hair looked somewhat dry now, but the anger in his eyes had not subsided with the end of the battle.

“Elder!” Chiyan glanced at Qingheng’s tottering figure and instinctively reached out to support him, only to stop himself abruptly in midair. “That old bastard from the Nether Abyss may have withdrawn today, but we’ve already figured out the Dark Current Sect’s true strength. Now that the ancient sleeping hall has been exposed before their eyes, why not take advantage of the spirit we still have and wake all twenty-four of our remaining old brothers? With all thirty-six of us, we could form the Qiming Heavenly Dao Formation and charge straight to the Nether Abyss’s lair. We can fight them to the death, which is better than waiting here to be slaughtered like lambs!”

Chiyan’s voice echoed outside the hall, carrying the grim resolve of someone whose fury had fermented over ten thousand years.

Qingheng did not turn around. His withered arm rose slowly and brushed aside Chiyan’s outstretched hand.

“Fight them to the death?” Qingheng’s voice was low, but carried an unquestionable authority. “Do you think the Nether Abyss withdrew today because he truly couldn’t take Greenwood Court?”

Chiyan froze. His sunken chest heaved several times. “If he wasn’t wary of us, why would he withdraw his manifestation?”

“Because the great calamity has yet to arrive. He needs to save his strength to tear open the true cage of the Heavenly Dao.” Qingheng struck the ground heavily with the broken staff in his hand, sending the surrounding dust pattering down. “He was only testing us today. Testing whether that old tree spirit Woodheart would dare protect us at the cost of his foundations, and testing how many trump cards the Qiming Royal Court still has.”

Qingheng turned around, his clear eyes fixed coldly on Chiyan. “The twelve of us who have awakened can still form a damaged formation and barely protect this courtyard amid the chaos. But if we wake all twenty-four of those sleeping, we may well win a moment of glory. Yet if we fail to kill them all in one strike, what will we use to stop the Nether Abyss when he comes again? Your crippled wooden body, which can’t even manage three blows?”

Chiyan was struck speechless. His face, as dry and wrinkled as bark, flushed red. In the end, he could only turn away angrily and say no more.

Qingheng paid him no further attention and faced the twenty-four soul cocoons again. He bit the tip of a finger, which held very little blood by now, and squeezed out a nearly transparent drop of origin essence water. Using his finger as a brush, he quickly traced patterns in the air.

One after another, extremely intricate ancient sealing runes took shape in midair under his hand. Then, as if they had come to life, they slowly imprinted themselves onto the surfaces of the soul cocoons. Qingheng’s body trembled faintly with every stroke, but he did not pause.

“These sleeping old brothers must be kept as kindling to preserve the Royal Court’s last spark, to be used only when we truly have nowhere left to retreat. No one is to touch them.”

His voice carried a chilling certainty, as if he had already calculated everything.

After reinforcing the sealing runes on the final soul cocoon, Qingheng let out a long breath. He turned around, his gaze passing over the ruined threshold of the hall and settling on Su Ming, who was recovering far away.

A hard-to-read glimmer flashed through those eyes, weathered by ten thousand years.

“Young friend of the human race.”

Qingheng’s voice crossed several hundred feet and rang clearly in Su Ming’s ears. “Come with this old man.”

Su Ming’s fingers paused slightly. He carefully tucked his lifebound formation plate into the deepest part of his storage pouch, making sure no fluctuations of the laws leaked out, before rising to his feet.

He brushed the dust from the hem of his robe and, keeping his eyes lowered and his manner deferential, crossed the scattered broken roots and stones to follow Qingheng deeper into the ancient sleeping hall.

The upside-down hall was dim and solemn. Large and small wooden stalactites hung from the vaulted ceiling, formed naturally by the intertwined roots of ten-thousand-year-old trees. There were no unnecessary furnishings inside, only thirty-six massive stone platforms arranged according to some profound formation.

The soul cocoons on twelve of the platforms had already broken. Their remaining blue-green threads hung to the ground like dead vines. On the other twenty-four platforms, enormous leaf-shaped soul cocoons hung motionless, giving off a faint, steady glow like breathing in the darkness.

Qingheng walked to the stone platform at the very center of the hall. It was where the formation core of the ancient sleeping hall lay, and the place from which the phantom of the broken royal seal had risen earlier.

He raised a withered hand covered in age spots and gently brushed the formation lines on the platform, where a trace of the royal seal’s lingering might remained.

The hall was so quiet that the sound of water dripping in the distance could be heard.

With his back to Su Ming, Qingheng did not turn around. His voice sounded especially hoarse in the empty, inverted hall of roots.

“Young friend of the human race, can that soul-possessing elder of yours still hold on?”

Those words were like a boulder dropped into a still, deep pool. Su Ming’s pupils contracted sharply, and an inaudible ripple stirred in the deepest part of the Xuantian ring.