“Stop!” A man’s command came from inside the carriage, and instantly, the beast-drawn vehicle and the escaping light halted mid-air.
The red radiance then dimmed, revealing a group of strikingly beautiful young women, all dressed in identical pale green palace robes, their dark hair coiled atop their heads, each carrying twin swords on their backs. These female cultivators stood in perfect formation on either side of the carriage, heads bowed in solemn silence—each possessing the cultivation level of Foundation Establishment.
“Strange! Who would dare perform a heaven-defying spell here? Judging by the gathering of yin energy, it must either be the Soul Reversal Art or the Soul Return Secret Technique,” came a surprised voice from within the white light-shrouded carriage, immediately identifying the technique.
“With such astonishing celestial phenomena, why couldn’t it be an omen of a rare treasure manifesting?” A young woman’s voice followed, icy and indifferent, yet unable to mask its sweet, alluring tone.
“Heh! Do you really think I can’t tell the difference between a treasure’s emergence and a heaven-defying spell?” The man chuckled, exuding confidence.
“Hmph! That’s just your opinion. It might very well be a treasure’s manifestation—I certainly can’t tell the difference,” the woman retorted coldly after a brief silence.
“If you want to know the truth, why not go and see for ourselves? Whether it’s the Soul Reversal or Soul Return Technique, only someone at Core Formation or above could perform it, and their cultivation would regress significantly afterward, sometimes even dropping an entire realm. I’m rather curious to see who’s casting such a spell. If their cultivation is decent, I might as well recruit them—the Divine Vulture Hall is still short on a few enforcers.” The man seemed unusually indulgent toward the woman, unbothered by her skepticism and even humoring her.
“Fine. After flying in this carriage for nearly a month, I could use some fresh air. A stroll on the island might do me good,” the woman conceded after a moment’s hesitation.
“Wait a moment. I’ll remove the protective barrier.”
With those words, the white light around the carriage flickered and gradually dissipated, revealing its occupants.
Inside sat a man and a woman at opposite ends. The man was a barefoot youth in his late twenties, dressed in coarse hemp robes and wearing a tall crown. His refined, scholarly features were accentuated by faint golden glints between his brows, hinting at an unknown cultivation technique.
Beside him sat a girl of sixteen or seventeen, draped in a white gauze dress, her skin as smooth as jade, her lustrous black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her beauty was ethereal, though her pallid complexion lent her an otherworldly, almost immortal air.
The girl leaned against the corner of the carriage, her delicate brows slightly furrowed in displeasure. But as the barrier lifted, she stirred and gracefully stepped out.
The man watched her movements tenderly before following with a faint smile.
“Fellow Daoist Wen, how confident are you that the Ghost Mist will appear nearby? As far as I know, the Ghost Mist—the most mysterious calamity of the Chaotic Star Sea—has no discernible pattern in its appearances,” the girl remarked, gazing toward the island without turning her head.
The man, seemingly accustomed to such abrupt shifts in conversation, clasped his hands behind his back and replied with a smile, “Indeed, the Ghost Mist has no fixed pattern. But after painstakingly collecting centuries of records, I’ve noticed something intriguing: many of its appearances coincide with recent volcanic eruptions. While not always the case, at least a third follow this trend. This area recently saw two undersea eruptions, so the chances of the Ghost Mist appearing are quite high.”
The girl’s eyes flickered with surprise. After a pause, she asked slowly, “You spent all this time bringing me here just to witness the Ghost Mist? Most cultivators flee from it—why would anyone seek it out?”
“Why not? I’ve had nothing better to do lately, so why not test my theory? And if the Ghost Mist does appear, do you think I wouldn’t know how to escape?” The hemp-robed youth smirked faintly.
The girl fell silent.
“Shall we proceed now? It seems the spellcaster is at a critical juncture. Wouldn’t we be interrupting?” she asked calmly after a moment, pointing at the celestial phenomena above the island.
“Interrupting? Since when does Wen Tianren need to worry about disturbing a mere Core Formation cultivator? If they dare show disrespect, I’ll simply eliminate them,” the man declared with sudden arrogance, his refined demeanor giving way to cold ruthlessness.
The girl glanced at him but said nothing. Though he had yet to form a Nascent Soul, his power far surpassed that of his peers. If he claimed to be the strongest Core Formation cultivator in the Chaotic Star Sea, it was no idle boast.
“Hmm?” The man’s expression shifted abruptly as he glanced toward the island, a trace of surprise crossing his face.
“What is it?” the girl asked, curiosity flickering beneath her detached tone.
“Interesting. There are three Core Formation cultivators on that island. Two are early-stage—one with a decent concealment technique, though nothing noteworthy. But the third, a late-stage Core Formation cultivator, is unusual. They sensed my divine sense—their spiritual power rivals my own.” His gaze sharpened as he spoke, a hint of gravity entering his voice.
The girl’s composure wavered. She had witnessed the man’s terrifying divine sense firsthand—comparable even to Nascent Soul elders. That another Core Formation cultivator could match him was nearly unbelievable, and for the first time, a strange expression crossed her face.
Yet she knew this man, for all his refined appearance, was anything but magnanimous. Beneath his gentle facade lay a cruel, unpredictable nature, quick to kill at the slightest provocation. Only his peculiar fixation on conquering her—without resorting to force—gave her a sliver of security.
Now, though his expression remained calm, she guessed he had already marked the island’s cultivators for death. His pride in his divine sense, unmatched among his peers, would never tolerate an equal.
With a silent sigh, she could only pity the doomed cultivators.
Meanwhile, several miles from the valley on the island, a desolate stretch of boulders lay silent and seemingly empty. Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the air as an enormous tri-colored spear shot forth from below, streaking past the low-lying rocks.
A *thud* echoed as the spear struck a suddenly materialized white barrier. Behind it, a pale-faced figure flinched in panic.
Just as the figure spat out a purple jade ruler, the barrier shattered. Before they could activate the treasure, the spear *whooshed* through their chest.
The corpse, reeking of blood, plummeted into the boulders below with a *thud*, vanishing from sight. The tri-colored spear dissolved into swarms of insects—one cluster carrying a storage pouch, the other the purple jade ruler—before darting back toward the valley.
Moments later, Han Li stood scanning the storage pouch with his divine sense while idly toying with the jade ruler. After a while, he stored both and raised his head, his expression darkening as he stared into the distance.
Earlier, while releasing his Gold Devouring Beetles, he had felt an almost imperceptible divine sense sweep over him—so powerful it nearly made him jump. In his experience, only Nascent Soul elders possessed such terrifying spiritual power. Tracing it cautiously, he realized it came from the newly arrived group of cultivators. A discreet scan revealed, to his shock, that its source was another late-stage Core Formation cultivator—young, not much older than himself.
Han Li’s blood ran cold.
The moment his divine sense brushed past, the other detected his intrusion. Some unknown restriction then forcibly expelled his spiritual probe, barring further access.
His heart sank even deeper.
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