301. The Whispering Bone Forest
"This creature possesses no definitive physical form!" General Tie Feng roared, bracing against the lash of the bone tail with his armored forearms. "Physical strikes are useless! Use soul attacks or pure fire!"
The twin elders of the Whirlwind Sect moved in unison. Holding hands, they conjured a howling vortex of fire and wind, attempting to incinerate the dragon’s mass of rotting muscle. However, the flames seemed to be sucked into a black hole upon contact with the creature's skin; the Yin energy in this place was too dominant, snuffing out every spark of Yang that dared to flicker.
Zhi Xuan remained standing still, his black-and-white robes fluttering calmly amidst the chaotic storm of essence. He gazed at the Yin Corpse Dragon with a vision that pierced through layers of illusion. Deep within the cluster of putrid muscle, he saw a pulsing, dark purple core—a crystal of pure Yin that served as the creature's consciousness.
"Brother Gu, what are you waiting for?" shouted Ba Yan, who had now fully regained his senses, his face deathly pale as he released a flurry of flying daggers to repel the spirit-hands surging from beneath the water. "If this dragon isn't dealt with, Master Taixuan’s bell will run out of energy!"
"This aura," Zhi Xuan mused internally. He felt the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron—which housed the Soul Lantern—recoil as it sensed the thousands of trapped souls within the Yin Corpse Dragon. "If those souls can be absorbed, I could immediately begin studying the Nirvana Ancient Puppet technique. However, revealing such a card here is too risky."
Zhi Xuan offered a thin smile. He moved his hand, and from the void outside the formation, a giant hand glowing with lava-like veins manifested and gripped the body of the Yin Corpse Dragon. "Perish."
As the burning lava fingers tightened around the dragon, a deafening hiss filled the air, accompanied by plumes of highly toxic black steam. The thousands of faces embedded in the dragon's body shrieked in unison—a chorus of agony capable of shattering the Dao Heart of an ordinary cultivator. Yet, under Zhi Xuan’s mental control, the lava hand only tightened, incinerating the rotting muscle with temperatures far exceeding pure Yang fire.
"GRAAAARRRRHHH!"
The Yin Corpse Dragon thrashed wildly, its bone tail striking the lava hand repeatedly, but each collision only produced silvery sparks. The dusky-grey essence enveloping Zhi Xuan’s attack acted as a shield, preventing the swamp's Yin energy from extinguishing the lava's heat.
Zhi Xuan raised his free hand, and a streak of the Demonic Blood Sword shot toward the dragon. "Cleave."
The Demonic Blood Sword flew like a bolt of crimson lightning, slicing through the thick atmosphere of the Ancient Demon Lands. Its wicked yet majestic light carved a path through the copper-red mist, carrying a killing intent so compressed that space itself seemed to warp in its wake.
CRAAAAASH!
The blade did more than pierce the rotting flesh; it cleaved the dark purple core hidden deep within. A massive explosion of Yin energy occurred instantly, but rather than letting it scatter, Zhi Xuan moved his fingers in an intricate mudra.
"Return to the void," Zhi Xuan hissed. Instantly, a grey vortex appeared at the tip of the Demonic Blood Sword, swallowing the overflowing Yin essence and the thousands of screaming souls as the dragon’s body disintegrated in a shockwave.
Silence reigned once more, far more oppressive than before. Master Taixuan, General Tie Feng, and the other cultivators stood frozen. Their eyes were fixed on Zhi Xuan, who hovered calmly, his hands returning to his sleeves as if he had merely swatted a fly.
Master Taixuan slowly lowered his hands. The bronze bell above his head chimed softly, as if sensing the residual tremors of the power Zhi Xuan had just unleashed. He looked at the youth with an unreadable gaze—relief that the threat was gone, but also a seed of fear taking root at how easily Zhi Xuan manipulated slaughter energy in a place that should suppress external power.
"Incredible strength, Brother Gu," Master Taixuan finally said, breaking the frozen silence. "To destroy a Yin entity with a single strike... it seems I was not mistaken in inviting you."
General Tie Feng sheathed his heavy sword with a sharp metallic ring. He glanced at the now-still swamp, but his eyes remained on Zhi Xuan. "It is not just the strength, but the way he controls his essence amidst this Yin mire... that is an illogical understanding of Law for someone at the mid-stage."
Zhi Xuan ignored their praise and suspicion alike. He felt the Demonic Blood Sword return to his Sea of Consciousness, bringing with it the soul residues roughly purified by his dusky-grey essence.
"Our journey is far from over, Master Taixuan," Zhi Xuan replied flatly. "That dragon was merely the gatekeeper of the Mire of Regret. The deeper we go, the Ancient Demon Lands will not offer a warmer welcome than this."
Li Chen approached, fanning himself despite the biting cold. "Brother Gu is right. Look at your bell, Master. Its light is dimming again."
Sure enough, the yellow glow of the Spirit-Guiding Bell began to flicker. Master Taixuan immediately refocused. "You heard him. Do not lower your guard! Keep the formation tight. We will cross the rest of this swamp toward the Whispering Bone Forest before that copper sun sets."
The group moved on, gliding low over the black water. However, the group dynamic had shifted. The other five cultivators, including the Whirlwind Sect twins and the iron-masked man, now kept a more respectful—or perhaps more wary—distance from Zhi Xuan.
As they flew, the copper-red mist began to whisper. Not the wind, but bodiless voices calling their names, probing the old wounds in their respective Dao Hearts.
Zhi Xuan sealed his hearing with spiritual essence. To him, these whispers were meaningless residues. However, he noticed the iron-masked man behind him began radiating unstable purple energy. The man stared intensely at a clump of mist to the right, his hands trembling.
"Do not listen to them," Zhi Xuan’s voice suddenly echoed directly in the man’s mind, cold and sharp as an ice needle. "If you let your imagination wake them, you will be the next face at the bottom of this swamp."
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The iron-masked man jolted; his purple glow stabilized. He turned toward Zhi Xuan, giving a stiff nod before refocusing on the path.
A few li later, the swamp surface vanished, replaced by dry, cracked grey earth. Before them rose a line of giant trees without leaves or bark. Their trunks were pale white, textured like human bones stacked to reach the heavens.
"The Whispering Bone Forest," whispered the old woman with the black staff. She inhaled air that smelled of bone and ancient dust. "Divine Sense will be severely limited here. Master Taixuan, ensure that bell keeps ringing, or we will be lost in this bone labyrinth forever."
Master Taixuan nodded solemnly. He touched the bronze bell, and the TING— sound it produced became more rhythmic, creating sound waves that bounced between the bone trunks to map the way ahead.
Zhi Xuan stepped under the forest canopy. The moment he crossed the boundary, he felt a strange spatial pressure. Space within this forest seemed folded; what looked near could be thousands of li away in reality.
"A Natural Spatial Formation," Zhi Xuan murmured. He activated his Heavenly Eyes covertly. Under his divine vision, he saw threads of fate coiled around every bone trunk. These trees didn't grow from soil; they grew from the remnants of ancient battles between gods and demons.
His steady footsteps crunched against fine bone dust, creating a rustling sound that seemed to be answered by moans from within the pale trunks. As they pushed deeper, the copper sun above became helpless against the density of branches that looked like giant fingers clutching the sky.
"Use your essence to coat your feet," Master Taixuan instructed. "This ground can swallow essence. Every step without protection will suck the strength from your meridians."
Zhi Xuan looked down. Indeed, every time his foot landed, the white dust glowed faintly, trying to pull the dusky-grey energy from his body. However, instead of letting it be drained, Zhi Xuan reversed the flow. His essence vibrated subtly, creating a repulsive force that pushed the dust away like snow rejecting the same pole of a magnet.
The group’s pace slowed as the bone trees grew denser. Amidst the haunting silence, only the chime of Master Taixuan’s bell served as an anchor for their souls. Yet, even the bell's vibration felt heavy, as if the air in the forest had turned into a thick liquid resisting every ripple of sound.
"Something isn't right," Li Chen whispered, using his jade fan as a shield before his chest. "Brother Gu, do you feel it? The space around us... it's as if it's breathing."
Zhi Xuan did not answer verbally. His hidden Heavenly Eyes caught a phenomenon far more terrifying than folded space. The threads of fate coiling the trees began to shift, moving slowly in rhythm with the heartbeat of the Ancient Demon Lands buried far below.
"Don't stop!" Master Taixuan cried, his voice carrying a note of panic he poorly concealed. "Keep moving."
The bell above Taixuan’s head suddenly let out a discordant shriek—TRANG!—as if struck by an invisible sledgehammer. The yellow light surrounding them flickered violently, and in a split second, the vision of the ten cultivators blurred.
In a heartbeat, the world was forcibly pulled by an invisible giant hand. The forest, once upright, twisted like a reflection in stirred water. Tremendous spatial pressure hit their bodies, making even Soul Transformation organs feel as if they were being crushed.
Zhi Xuan stomped his foot, radiating dusky-grey essence to nail his position to the churning earth. But the spatial threads here were more complex than he anticipated.
"Star-Reversing Formation!" Master Taixuan yelled amidst the howling spatial wind. He tried to reclaim the bell as it tumbled wildly, but its yellow glow faded, swallowed by a grey mist erupting from the bone trees.
"Everyone, hold your mental foundations!" General Tie Feng roared, his armor glowing bronze-gold at maximum intensity, trying to act as an anchor.
But the spatial laws had reached a saturation point. One by one, the figures of their comrades began to fade, swallowed by the grey mist. Li Chen, closest to Zhi Xuan, reached for the youth’s black-and-white robe, but his hand passed through cold, empty air.
"Brother Gu—!"
Li Chen’s voice was cut off, vanishing into an explosion of blinding purple light. Zhi Xuan felt his body pulled into a deep, hollow vortex. The Heavenly Samsara Wheel in his mind spun wildly, keeping his Divine Soul from being shredded by spatial friction as sharp as a thousand daggers.
Within a few heartbeats, the pressure eased. Zhi Xuan landed on one knee upon a hard, cold surface. He was no longer in the forest path. He stood in a chamber bounded by giant bone pillars that curved upward, forming a dome resembling the ribcage of an unimaginably large ancient beast. The grey mist here was thick, limiting even the Heavenly Eyes.
"Scattered," Zhi Xuan muttered softly. His voice didn't echo, as if the bone walls absorbed every vibration.
He stood up slowly, straightening his robes, which remained unstained despite the spatial storm. He felt no trace of Master Taixuan or the bell. There was only a suffocating silence and the sharper scent of death—the smell of bone scorched by time.
Zhi Xuan scanned his surroundings, finding only ancient stillness. Under his feet, the floor was not stone, but an expanse of skulls crushed into fine shards, forming intricate geomantic patterns filled with malice. Every step triggered a faint crunching sound, as if the shattered souls below were mourning their eternal fate.
"A chamber of mental isolation," Zhi Xuan whispered. He realized the spatial storm wasn't a natural phenomenon, but a defense mechanism of the Bone Forest designed to separate intruders based on their Dao Hearts.
Zhi Xuan showed no fear; instead, his sapphire pupils glinted with cold sharpness. He knew that in a place like this, fear was a poison more lethal than the Ancient Demon Breath. If the forest wished to test him with silence, he would provide a deeper silence.
He began to walk, every movement controlled like a predator in the night. Yet, after only a few steps, the grey mist before him rolled, forming silhouettes that slowly solidified. Not monsters, but human figures he recognized from his most distant memory fragments.
"Zhi Xuan... why did you leave us?" a raspy voice asked, followed by shadows of his past in the lowlands—people who had fallen under his sword, and those he failed to save.
Zhi Xuan stopped. He looked at the shadows with an unshakable, flat expression. "Shallow illusions," he hissed. "You try to attack the mind of a cultivator who has washed his soul in the Samsara Wheel? This forest truly underestimates me."
He stomped on the floor of crushed skulls. Instantly, a ripple of dusky-grey energy exploded, obliterating the illusions into nothingness. As they vanished, the bone wall to the right vibrated and opened, forming a narrow crack that emitted a dim light.
"Brother Li’s aura," Zhi Xuan murmured, immediately stepping into the crevice.
He passed through the narrow gap, where the bone walls pulsed like veins filled with thick Yin essence. The dim light ahead clarified, revealing a vast chamber resembling an ancient sacrificial hall. In the center, he saw Li Chen standing with his back turned, his body strangely shrouded in unstable, shimmering blue essence threads.
"Brother Li," Zhi Xuan called, his flat voice carrying a mental vibration to break the silence.
Li Chen jolted, his shoulders tensing before he slowly turned. His usually jovial face was rigid, his eyes reflecting deep confusion. In his hand, his sea-jade fan was snapped shut, trembling as if holding an invisible weight.
"Brother Gu?" Li Chen’s voice sounded distant. "You... weren't you just here?"
Zhi Xuan walked forward, each step on the cracked bone floor radiating dusky-grey ripples that destroyed the illusory threads trying to creep under his feet. "Wake up. We are all scattered right now."
Li Chen blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the mist from his vision. The blue threads coiling him faded, but the remnants of spatial pressure remained on his pale face. He exhaled a long breath, one that carried the cold that had frozen in his lungs.
"By the high heavens... this place is truly cursed," Li Chen muttered, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "I felt as if I had walked through thousands of years of silence, only to find myself back at the same point. If you hadn't appeared, Brother Gu, I might have lost my way in this mental labyrinth."
Zhi Xuan stopped three paces away, his ocean-deep eyes scanning every inch of the hall. "I suspect this is a plan by Master Taixuan. Earlier, I killed the Yin Corpse Dragon that was indirectly protecting him, leading to us being dragged into this."
