“Hmph, you actually dare to think of refining my true soul into an Immortal Soul Pill. If this were the Immortal Realm, such an act alone would violate its ironclad laws, and the Punishment Envoys would unleash divine retribution to exterminate your entire clan.” Upon hearing this, the colossal figure trembled slightly, its face twisting in anger as it snorted coldly.
“Hehe, you know full well this isn’t the Immortal Realm. Even if the Overseer Immortals possess vast powers, unless an event threatens the very existence of this realm, how could they possibly detect what’s happening here? Once I consume the Immortal Soul Pill, my cultivation will advance significantly, ensuring my clan’s dominance and prosperity in this world. This risk is one my clan is willing to take! Besides, there’s no other method to annihilate the true soul of an immortal. I have no choice!” The aged voice remained unmoved, speaking with icy resolve.
“Fine, fine! This envoy is truly a tiger fallen to the plains, bullied by dogs. A mere Mahayana cultivator—in the past, I could erase you with a flick of my finger. Yet now, you dare to act so arrogantly before me. Very well, let me see how you plan to seal and refine my true soul.” The colossal figure’s eyes flashed wildly before it burst into laughter, its anger seemingly replaced by amusement.
With that, the figure abruptly raised both hands and flicked its fingers rapidly, sending over a dozen incantation seals soaring into the air. These seals vanished into the massive silver net formed by the Spirit-Snaring Heavenly Web above.
A thunderous roar erupted from the net as its aura surged twofold. Then, with a mighty heave, it lifted the enormous silver pearl high into the air, suspending it dozens of feet above.
The eight sacred beings maintaining the grand formation below were startled by this sight. Without hesitation, they channeled all their spiritual power into the ritual plates in their hands.
The plates erupted with blinding light, and a resonant hum filled the air as the formation activated. The surrounding runes churned violently, coalescing into several thick chains that lashed toward the colossal figure.
But it was already too late.
The moment the figure felt its restraints loosen, its previously sluggish spiritual power surged back to full strength. Though the respite was brief, it was enough to unleash its life-saving technique.
With a low growl, the dozen shadowy demonic forms behind it exploded into clouds of blood mist, which then merged into its body. Its once-blurred form instantly solidified, and its armor swelled before shattering into pieces, revealing a bronzed upper torso.
On its chest was an exquisitely lifelike golden flower.
As the flower pattern appeared, the figure’s lips moved, and an ancient chant—never before heard in the Spirit Realm—spilled forth.
The golden flower trembled slightly before turning blood-red, emitting a pungent metallic scent. Then, with a shimmer of crimson light, it detached from the figure’s chest, materializing as a physical entity.
“The Blood-Dripping Poria Flower! You’re no longer in a fleshly body—you’ve become a flower demon!” The aged voice from the golden palace rang out in shock.
Ignoring the outburst, the colossal figure lowered its head and exhaled sharply toward the blood-red flower.
With a hiss, the surrounding spiritual energy funneled violently into the flower. The sky darkened as massive, multicolored clouds rolled forth, casting an apocalyptic pall over the land.
The blood-red flower swelled and shrank, growing tenfold in size as it absorbed the energy. A bone-chilling aura radiated from it.
“You’re mad! You plan to detonate this flower? Don’t you realize that when it explodes, your physical form will also turn to ash?” The aged voice trembled with fear, now tinged with panic.
Simultaneously, a ripple appeared above the tallest structure of the golden palace, and a figure materialized—a white-robed elder with a youthful face and snow-white hair. A crimson maple leaf adorned his sleeve. His expression was tense as he stared at the blood-red flower below.
“Heh, destroying my body is still better than having my true soul refined into a pill. With my soul’s power, I can always spend tens of thousands of years cultivating a new body. If you’re wise, release the formation and withdraw the Immortal-Sealing Pearl now. I’ll forget this transgression and leave immediately. Since you recognize this demonic flower, you must know the devastation its explosion would bring. At the very least, it’s more than enough to reduce you all to ashes.”
The colossal figure didn’t spare a glance at the eerie, blood-glowing flower. Instead, it fixed its cold gaze on the elder above.
The white-robed elder remained silent, his face darkening further. The eight sacred beings below, sensing the terrifying power emanating from the flower, paled at the figure’s words. Yet, under the elder’s watchful presence, none dared act, continuing to sustain the formation with all their might.
“Let you go? Perhaps—after you’re sealed, I might consider it.” The elder’s expression twisted through several emotions before settling into a grotesque, uncharacteristic ferocity. With a flicker, he vanished from sight.
“If you seek death, I’ll oblige!” The colossal figure bellowed, its face contorted with rage. Yet, as it glanced at the blood-red flower, a flicker of hesitation crossed its features.
Though it had spoken bravely, it knew the truth: losing this body would make rebuilding it an arduous, near-impossible task. Tens of thousands of years might not suffice unless fortune smiled upon it. This flower-demon body, painstakingly crafted over a hundred millennia, was irreplaceable. With it, regaining its former power was feasible. Without it, the road to recovery would be endless.
Still, this figure was no ordinary cultivator. Its hesitation lasted but a moment before it gritted its teeth and resumed chanting, pointing a finger at the blood-red flower.
The flower emitted a piercing shriek as it expanded further, white fissures appearing on its petals. A terrifying aura, several times stronger than before, erupted from it.
Above, the multicolored clouds coalesced into a colossal, five-colored dome, descending slowly like a celestial lid. The eight sacred beings below felt an immense pressure, as though a mountain weighed upon them, slowing their movements to a crawl.
Alarmed, they summoned their protective treasures—dozens of glowing artifacts forming layers of shields around them. Though momentarily safe, terror gripped them as they attempted to flee. Yet their movements, though swift, were sluggish compared to normal, rendering escape impossible.
Seeing this, the colossal figure’s eyes gleamed coldly. With a final incantation, it uttered, “Explode.”
The blood-red flower shuddered, its white fissures thickening as a molten, scarlet liquid oozed forth. Upon contact with the air, the liquid ignited into countless crimson flames, painting the sky red. The flames pulsed ominously, ready to detonate.
Simultaneously, the figure shrank to human size, encasing itself in a blinding silver barrier. Though sacrificing its body, it sought to minimize damage to its true soul.
Just as the entire area teetered on the brink of annihilation, the white-robed elder’s icy voice cut through the chaos from above the flower: “You think you can detonate it? Not without my consent. Even if it costs me ten thousand years of recovery, I will suppress you completely.”
As his words faded, a towering, translucent pagoda—over a hundred feet tall—materialized in the air. Its surface was etched with countless glowing runes, radiating a milky-white light as if carved from ice.
At its pinnacle rested a blue orb the size of a human head, seemingly smooth at first glance but upon closer inspection, covered in intricate, interlocking spell formations of varying sizes—so complex that prolonged viewing induced dizziness.
This ice pagoda was the true form of the sacred elder. As it descended, a wave of frigid mist surged from its base, engulfing the flames and the blood-red flower in an instant. Within the white haze, everything froze—time itself seemed to halt.
With a resonant boom, the pagoda crashed downward.
“The Dazzling Light Heavenly Crystal Pagoda! You’re a spirit slave born from this treasure? Impossible! All replicas of this artifact were destroyed in the chaos of the North Abyss Immortal Palace millions of years ago. How could a spirit slave still exist?” The colossal figure, now staring with venomous hatred, turned deathly pale at the sight of the crystalline pagoda, its voice trembling with dread.
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