Cultivation Starts from Farming

Meanwhile, in another part of the Ancient Demon Hall.

This is a vast area of the ruins of an ancient palace complex, half of which has collapsed.

Amidst the remnant walls and ruins, demonic energy loomed, with low, terrifying roars of demons occasionally emanating from the depths.

"Boom! Boom!"

Two beams of Pure Yang Sword Qi, as brilliant as the scorching sun, whipped like the scourge of the heavens, fiercely striking two Fourth Rank Lower Grade ancient demons that had just crawled out of the underground fissures.

The ancient demons’ bodies were incredibly resilient, comparable to Magical Treasures, yet under the Sword Qi, they let out painful howls, their demonic bodies being torn open with massive wounds, as the demonic energy dissipated.

Xu Ping, in a spotless cloud-patterned white robe, stood expressionlessly in mid-air.

He held his fingers like a sword, with a stern expression and eyes sharp as a hawk, sweeping over the ruins.

"The number and activity level of the ancient demons...sure enough, far surpass the records."

Xu Ping muttered to himself, his tone carrying a hint of gravity.

As a true disciple of the Cloud Sky Sect, he was dispatched here to investigate the mutations within the Ancient Demon Hall.

The sect’s understanding of the Ancient Demon Hall far exceeded that of outside cultivators.

If anything truly happened in the Ancient Demon Hall, it would be a catastrophe for the entire outer sea.

Since entering, he increasingly felt the demonic energy here was unusually restless, as if something deep within was awakening, driving these ancient demons.

He waved his hand to collect the ancient demon core, his figure transforming into an elusive streak of light, continuing to sneak towards the area of densest demonic energy sensed.

With exceptional skill comes audacity, even though he sensed anomalies, he remained unafraid and determined to uncover the source.

...

Elsewhere, outside a twisted woodland filled with a strange floral fragrance and a decaying aura.

Old Demon Hehuan and a young man looked at the place known as "Spiritual Miao Garden," their expressions solemn.

This place is rumored to have heaven-defying spiritual objects that aid in breaking through to Late-Stage Nascent Soul, yet it is extremely perilous with distorted space and numerous restrictions, which might even trap great powers of Late-Stage Nascent Soul.

"Friend Hehuan, the spatial fissures and ancient restrictions here are more active than they were a hundred years ago...."

"Also, aren’t the ancient demons too numerous?"

The young man’s voice was cold and carried a hint of apprehension.

On their way, they had already slain several waves of ancient demons attracted by the aura of spiritual objects, finding it increasingly difficult.

Old Demon Hehuan’s eyes were a mix of greed and caution, he gritted his teeth and said, "The greater the risk, the greater the opportunity. If we manage to find the opportunity, your and my chances of breaking through to the late stage increase significantly."

Hearing this, the young man had a changeable expression, but the desire to break through to Late-Stage Nascent Soul ultimately prevailed.

Their bodies shimmered with spiritual light as they cautiously stepped into the light-shadow twisted, deadly woodland.

...

In the deepest part of the Ancient Demon Hall.

On an ancient altar eternally shrouded by blood-like viscous demonic clouds.

A massive figure slowly opened its eyes.

Its body was like a giant ape, yet it possessed three heads and six arms, each holding terrifying weapons formed of white bones and demonic flames.

The pressure emitted from it was vast as an abyss, terrifying beyond belief, having reached the true Late-Stage Nascent Soul level.

The space around it slightly twisted, as if unable to bear its existence.

If any old monster who survived a hundred years ago were present, they would surely recognize in horror that this demon was the terrifying existence that wreaked havoc and slaughtered several Mid-Stage Nascent Soul cultivators when the Ancient Demon Hall opened last time.

A hundred years have passed, and not only was it not suppressed or expelled by the rules of the Ancient Demon Hall, but it has become even more powerful.

Its six eyes burning with dark red demonic fire coldly looked towards a certain direction, a cruel arc tugging at its mouth, revealing sharp white teeth.

"Fresh blood sacrifice...has arrived."

The demonic voice, low and hoarse, as though composed of countless voices overlapping, reverberated above the altar, filled with the desire for hunger and destruction.

...

Phantom Mist Valley.

The grey and white mist was so thick it resembled sticky paste, not only obstructing vision but also carrying an eerie power that twisted perception and eroded Divine Sense.

Xu Ping followed closely behind Zhang Shuo.

Even with his powerful Late-Stage Nascent Soul Divine Sense extended, it seemed trapped in an endless mire, barely covering a hundred-zhang radius, beyond which everything was a hazy chaos, difficult to distinguish between illusion and reality.

"This natural illusion array can actually suppress Divine Sense to such an extent..."

Xu Ping’s expression remained unchanged, but his heart was slightly alert, his vigilance reaching its peak.

Being the greatest opportunity in the outer sea, the Ancient Demon Hall certainly lived up to its reputation, exuding eeriness at every turn.

If it weren’t for someone leading the way, finding the correct path through this endless fog swamp would be anything but easy.

However, Zhang Shuo ahead seemed much more composed.

He turned over his hand to reveal an ancient bronze compass, its surface engraved with complex star patterns and ghostly symbols.

The central needle was not made of steel but a slightly curved black finger bone exuding a chilling aura.

"This is the ’Ghostly Compass,’ a relic left by the previous Isle Master of Red Sun, my Martial Uncle."

Zhang Shuo explained while forming a spell with his hands, injecting pure mana into the compass.

"Back then, it was by relying on this treasure that Martial Uncle managed to narrowly pass through this ’Bewitching Mist Swamp’ and find that absolute fortress."

Buzz!

The compass lightly vibrated, and the central black finger bone suddenly emitted a faint glow, its needle spinning frantically for several turns before firmly pointing to a specific direction in the mist.

A weak yet extraordinarily clear grey-white light path extended from the compass, piercing through the thick mist to point the way forward.

Xu Ping’s gaze swept over the compass, pausing momentarily on that central finger bone, a subtle but noticeable shift in his eyes.

However, he said nothing further, simply nodding slightly: "Lead the way."

One after the other, the two made their way through the low-visibility fog swamp along the grey-white light path.