Chapter 153: Immortal Grave
*Upper Realms, Borders of the Immortal Grave*
The wind howling at the edge of the Immortal Grave bore no resemblance to the fragrant breezes of the Dao Temple. It was a glacial whistle, laden with a fetid humidity that seemed to seep directly into the pores of the skin to freeze the flow of Qi.
The landscape stretching before the trio was an insult to life: a plain of gray ashes from which emerged petrified bone structures, remnants of titanic creatures that had fallen during the Era of Origins. The sky, a sickly violet, was obscured by a stagnant mist of Yin Qi so dense that it hid the celestial stars, creating an eternal twilight where visibility did not exceed a few dozen meters.
Xuan BaiShe advanced with a tranquil step, his hands clasped behind his back. His black silk tunic, embroidered with silver turtle motifs, seemed to naturally repel the shreds of toxic mist thanks to the passive protection of his Overlord aura.
He adjusted his sage monocle, observing the surroundings with a curiosity bordering on contempt. To his left, Zhi Mei, the Holy Templar, maintained constant vigilance. Her light Sidhe armor emitted a faint bluish glow, her purity Qi fighting against the corrosive pressure of the domain. To his right, the blind monk Chong Da walked on the uneven ground as if he were in the zen gardens of Mount Hua. His bare feet left no trace on the ash, and his face, crossed by his white silk blindfold, breathed a disturbing serenity amid this open-air charnel house.
"This place is even more corrupted than in the Temple’s chronicles," murmured Zhi Mei, her metal-gloved hand gripping the pommel of her blade firmly. "The Yin Qi here is not passive... it has a will to devour everything that breathes... It will be difficult to purify it."
BaiShe let out a light laugh, a crystalline sound that seemed to suspend the wind’s whistle for a fraction of a second. "Miss Mei, the nature of this place is the exact reflection of the hatred of the Ashura sealed within it. Trying to purify the Immortal Grave with your usual methods is like trying to empty the ocean with a spoon."
Chong Da stopped abruptly, tilting his head slightly. "The Judge is right, Holy Templar," said the monk. "The evil gnawing at this domain is not a simple accumulation of energy. It is the regrets of the dead that have taken form. Listen... they are coming."
Simultaneously, the basaltic ground began to vibrate. Fissures tore through the ashen earth, releasing geysers of blackish steam with the smell of decomposed flesh. From these crevasses emerged the first Yin entities. They were nameless abominations, masses of translucent and gelatinous flesh whose shapes vaguely recalled deformed humanoids. Their faces were nothing but gaping holes from which escaped moans capable of shattering the Dantian of a lower-rank cultivator. Their limbs, too long and equipped with black bone claws, scraped the ground with a sound of metal on stone.
Hundreds of these flesh specters surrounded the group, their empty orbits fixed on the overflowing vitality of the three intruders.