Chapter 2229: Human-Faced Insect

Just a few dozen feet off the paved path, Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone both sensed something and their expressions shifted.

The four of them weaved past several stone towers and flew about two hundred feet before their view suddenly opened up, revealing a massive pit about seventy to eighty feet wide.

Around the pit, seven or eight half-collapsed stone towers lay scattered, and the ground nearby was crisscrossed with countless grooves and sword marks, as if a fierce battle had taken place here not long ago.

At the center of the pit lay a charred, blackened insect carcass, only a small portion of which remained intact.

Even in its incomplete state, the grotesque remnants of the insect made Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone gasp in shock.

The carcass resembled a typical moth in body shape, covered in a smooth, glossy exoskeleton. However, its slender neck bore an extremely ugly male head, though only half remained. The features—eyes, ears, nose—were all present, and it had a wild mane of tangled green hair.

The insect carcass lay half-collapsed on the ground, motionless, with no trace of blood around it, indicating it had been dead for quite some time.

“This must be the true descendant of the Mother Moth. It looks truly unsettling!” Xie Lian said, her face slightly pale as she stared at the remains.

“Hmph, it must be. I never expected these vicious insects to look like this. It makes one wonder how much more repulsive and terrifying the Mother Moth herself must be. Fellow Daoist Han, don’t you think so?” Elder Greenstone snorted coldly before turning to Han Li.

“Perhaps. Without seeing the Mother Moth firsthand, I can’t make any definitive judgments,” Han Li replied with a faint smile. Suddenly, he flicked his sleeve toward the pit.

With a loud *boom*, an invisible force rolled the carcass over, exposing its underside.

Xie Lian focused her gaze and her expression changed slightly once more.

The abdomen of the carcass bore over a dozen incomplete limbs. Some were sharp and covered in black bristles, typical of insectoid creatures. Others, however, had pale, tender skin resembling human hands—though instead of five fingers, they ended in three segmented digits: one thick and two slender.

Elder Greenstone’s face twitched at the sight. He raised a hand, and with a muffled sound, a blue fireball materialized in his palm. With a slight flick of his fingers, it shot toward the carcass.

The fireball emitted no heat, but the surrounding space distorted slightly, indicating its immense power—far beyond ordinary flames.

With a *sizzle*, the fireball ignited upon contact, engulfing the carcass in blue flames.

After a moment, Elder Greenstone made a hand seal and pointed at the carcass. The flames vanished instantly, revealing the remains—now slightly blacker but otherwise unchanged, showing no signs of melting.

Elder Greenstone’s expression darkened, and Xie Lian’s face grew even more grim.

Crab Daoist’s eyes flickered slightly, but his expression remained impassive.

“Interesting. Let me try,” Han Li said with a light chuckle.

He raised his arm, and with a metallic chime, three fingers flicked outward.

Three streaks of azure sword light shot forth in rapid succession, striking the carcass.

Three distinct sounds echoed as the sword lights landed.

The first sword light bounced off harmlessly.

The second sliced partially through the exoskeleton.

The third cleanly cleaved the carcass in half.

Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone exchanged surprised glances.

Han Li stroked his chin, deep in thought.

Xie Lian hesitated briefly before asking directly, “Brother Han, the power of those three sword lights differed, didn’t they? Otherwise, the results wouldn’t vary so much.”

“Indeed. The first contained only half my usual power. The second was at full strength. As for the third, I fused it with one of my bonded flying swords to achieve that effect,” Han Li replied casually, as if it were no secret.

Unbeknownst to Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone, Han Li had only used a fraction of his true power—far exceeding that of an average late-stage cultivator. The first sword light contained merely 20% of his strength, the second around 40-50%.

Yet even so, the insect’s resilience left them both shaken.

“This insect not only resists Elder Greenstone’s flames but also neutralizes most of Brother Han’s sword light. It seems the Mother Moth’s direct descendants are even more fearsome than we imagined. If we encounter more, do any of you have a strategy?” Xie Lian asked warily after a moment of contemplation.

“What’s there to fear? If we meet them, we’ll just use our full power. I refuse to believe the four of us can’t handle a mere insect,” Elder Greenstone retorted with a cold laugh.

“One or two might be manageable. But what if we face seven, eight, or even more? Would you still be so confident?” Xie Lian sighed.

“A dozen? That’s unlikely!” Elder Greenstone’s forced bravado faltered slightly.

“The odds are indeed slim. If the Mother Moth could produce so many powerful offspring, she would’ve broken free of the ancient seal long ago,” Han Li mused before shaking his head.

“I hope you’re right. Otherwise, these insects will be a serious problem. Judging by the scene here, this one was likely killed by the previous group who entered the palace. But they left in haste—perhaps there are more ahead,” Xie Lian said with a bitter smile.

“Regardless, we’ve come too far to turn back now. We’ve already wasted time here. Let’s move on. If we delay and jeopardize Lady Baohua’s mission, the consequences would be dire,” Han Li said calmly before turning to leave.

Now that he knew these insects posed little threat, he dismissed them from his mind.

Crab Daoist followed wordlessly.

Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone exchanged glances, surprised by Han Li’s decisiveness. But after a moment, they conceded his point and followed, though their expressions were mixed.

Among the four, Crab Daoist obeyed Han Li unconditionally, and Han Li had already demonstrated superior spiritual sense. Thus, even if Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone had reservations, they tacitly deferred to his lead.

Soon, the group returned to the original path and continued forward according to the map.

This time, they traversed several sections of the underground palace without incident, encountering no further traces of the vicious insects.

Xie Lian and Elder Greenstone relaxed slightly. Even as late-stage cultivators, they had no desire to face those creatures again.

Eventually, they arrived at an expansive garden flanked by low, silver-blooming trees. The flowers were large, velvety, and strikingly beautiful—yet utterly scentless.

Initially wary, Elder Greenstone relaxed when Xie Lian explained the trees were a unique demon realm plant, harmless except for use in low-grade elixirs.

“Brother Han, according to the map, the restricted hall ahead should be the formation’s core. Once we repair it, our mission is complete,” Xie Lian said as they neared the garden’s exit, where a small gray-white hall loomed in the distance.

“Indeed, we’re almost there. It seems our journey has been smooth. I wonder if the others have been as fortunate,” Han Li replied neutrally.

Yet ever since entering the garden, he’d felt an inexplicable sensation of being watched—despite detecting nothing with his formidable spiritual sense.

This was nearly impossible. Either the watcher possessed some heaven-defying stealth technique, or the palace’s restrictions were playing tricks on his perception.

Cautious as ever, Han Li remained on high alert. But as soon as he stepped out of the garden, the eerie feeling vanished completely, leaving him baffled.

Meanwhile, deep within the palace’s darkest cavern, a shadowy figure suddenly let out a low, sinister chuckle:

“The Divine Refinement Art… and already at the second layer… Someone in the lower realm cultivates this technique… Hahaha! Heaven hasn’t abandoned me… All these years of endurance… finally rewarded!”

The laughter began softly, almost indistinct, but soon grew clearer—and increasingly maniacal. It was a sound to chill the bones.