Chapter 108: The Pagoda

In the late stage of Foundation Establishment, Hong Jian’s true energy had originally been full, but she had consumed a considerable amount on that heart-wrenching severing cord, leaving her with barely half remaining now.

Yet Hong Jian harbored no regrets.

Her cultivation had undergone a qualitative leap. With this half of her true energy, if she did not encounter enemies, it should be enough for her to survive and escape.

But if she did face foes—whether the prison guards of the Demon Refining Dungeon or the demonic cultivators and demon worms of the Heavenly Demon Sect—even a full true energy reserve might prove futile.

The seabed beneath the glacier was dark and frigid; without true energy, there was only the road to death. Hong Jian released her divine consciousness, bidding a final farewell to Ji Youfeng, who remained in the stone prison beneath the sea, then turned and ascended toward the freedom she had been deprived of for twenty long years.

There was no relief or joy of surviving a hundred tribulations; her mood was as cold and dark as the perilous environment around her.

Carefully, Hong Jian enveloped herself in water true energy and exerted all her strength to ascend.

She thought to herself: “From this moment on, I must live well. Senior sacrificed himself to ensure I survive. I will take up his mantle, kill Ji Youyun, restore the Dan Cliff Sect, and live a life worthy of a person.”

The initial stretch after leaving the seabed went smoothly. Hong Jian forced herself to stop dwelling on the memories of Ji Youfeng, telling herself to hurry, to reach the surface before her true energy was depleted, then escape the extreme northern glaciers and find spiritual energy quickly.

The Heavenly Demon Sect had come prepared, but under Gong Tengfa’s advice, Ji Youyun’s side had already fragmented the Demon Refining Dungeon. Had the battle between the two sides ended? Had the invading demonic cultivators retreated, or were they still searching and fighting?

Why had they come? How did they learn that Ji Youyun and the demon beasts’ souls within the Demon Refining Dungeon were absent?

The closer she approached the original battlefield, the more chaotic the thoughts in Hong Jian’s mind became. Even if she tried not to think, they surged forth uncontrollably.

Hong Jian felt a headache coming on. Due to Ji Youfeng’s death, she had no mood to ponder these mysteries. As long as she could avoid danger and be safe first, she would think about these matters later.

Ji Youfeng was gone. From now on, she would never see him again…

Just the thought of this brought her heartache as if being torn apart. Suddenly, a thought flashed in her mind: “Could this feeling, as if my head is about to explode, be because of the ‘Great Calamity Scripture’?”

Ji Youfeng had taught her the entirety of the ‘Great Calamity Scripture’ he knew. But since she had been unable to cultivate it for so long, Hong Jian had only witnessed Ji Youfeng use this secret technique to extract the message Ding Yong wanted to convey to him. She had never personally experienced what the ‘Great Calamity Scripture’ truly entailed.

Yet now her cultivation had broken through repeatedly. Even without actively cultivating, the ‘Great Calamity Scripture’ should have some reaction, right?

Perhaps this restless, jumping thought was a manifestation of her current inability to control spiritual energy. Whether or not this was true, Hong Jian needed to find spiritual energy quickly and properly cultivate this secret technique to find out.

“Whoosh! Whoosh, whoosh!”

What was that sound? Because her true energy was limited, Hong Jian dared not extend her divine consciousness too far. When this strange noise reached her ears, she immediately became alert, reined in her chaotic thoughts, and quietly extended her divine consciousness, tracing the sound.

Water spirit roots had an advantage in water, and even at the late Foundation Establishment stage, her cultivation was not weak on the entire Cultivation Continent. But Hong Jian knew that anything appearing here now was likely beyond her ability to handle. Any slight misstep could mean eternal ruin, rendering Ji Youfeng’s sacrifice meaningless.

“Whoosh!” Another sound.

Hong Jian’s divine consciousness immediately detected something.

About a hundred feet away, nearly a hundred black, ghostly vines swayed freely in the water, seemingly unaffected by the resistance of the water. They resembled the tails of extremely agile pythons. After sweeping the vicinity, they quickly retracted and coiled into a black sphere the size of a basin.

That basin-sized sphere wriggled a few times, suddenly extending tendrils in all directions, blooming underwater like a giant ink chrysanthemum—a strange, eerie beauty.

What kind of monster was this?

Hong Jian instinctively sensed danger. She noticed that seven or eight similar clusters of these strange plants floated in that sea area, forming a giant spiderweb that trapped those caught within.

Demonic cultivators! The battle was still ongoing.

Previously, Hong Jian knew little of the demonic cultivators’ methods and even less about the Heavenly Demon Sect attacking the Demon Refining Dungeon. The ‘Great Heavenly Demon Three-Eyed Soul Severing Scripture’ was a name she had only heard without understanding its power. The fragmented information from Old Jing was unreliable. Yet the baby nascent elder cultivators in the Demon Refining Dungeon had clearly treated the Heavenly Demon Sect as a formidable enemy.

The surroundings were open with no cover. She could only hope that both sides had little true energy left and had not discovered her, a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator, lurking here.

The violently churning waves could not block Hong Jian’s divine consciousness. The black vines were as nimble as tentacles, carrying immense force as they pursued, whipped, and entangled their prey.

Their target was singular. Trapped within was likely a Daoist cultivator. His cultivation level was indiscernible, but Hong Jian was certain of one thing: his movements were extremely agile, advancing and retreating freely in the water. He showed no signs of casting spells. Just as several vines closed in, he twisted his body, becoming as thin as a blade and narrowly slipping through a gap in the vines.

Hong Jian watched him weave left and right among the vines. Suddenly, he grabbed one vine, pulled sharply, and tied three trailing vines into a tight knot. An odd sensation rose within her.

This Daoist might not have high cultivation or much true energy left, but he was the most skilled escape artist Hong Jian had ever seen.

Strangers to each other, Hong Jian did not intend to intervene. She extended her divine consciousness to carefully scan the surroundings. Besides the strange plants and this Daoist, there was nothing else.

With the battle ongoing, where were the Heavenly Demon Sect cultivators hiding? Did these black vines operate autonomously without human control?

The Daoist continued moving lightly in the water, dodging like a butterfly among flowers, trying to break through the vines. Suddenly, two nearby black spheres emitted eerie squeaks and shot toward him, arriving almost instantly.

The two spheres, undeterred, opened their tendrils as if to embrace the enemy, blocking all escape routes.

Hong Jian thought silently: “It’s over. This man’s done for.”

Unexpectedly, the Daoist, seeing no way out, stopped abruptly, then waved his hand and cast a spell.

In the pitch-black seawater, like a flash of lightning on a rainy night, a brilliant beam struck the two black spheres before him, instantly shattering the living, screaming creatures into fragments.

Hong Jian gasped. Having just seen the Daoist’s aquatic movements, she had assumed he was a water-element cultivator. But upon seeing his spell, she realized she had been mistaken—he was a Metal spirit root.

The spell was powerful. Had he had sufficient true energy, he probably would not have had to flee so desperately.

Now, relying on this spell to clear his path, the Daoist fled toward Hong Jian’s position.

He was a man, seemingly young for a cultivator. Upon realizing he was Metal spirit root, Hong Jian guessed his origin.

The Demon Refining Dungeon supposedly imprisoned many unlucky Metal spirit root cultivators. When Gong Tengfa and others dismantled the dungeon, they deliberately released some to disrupt the Heavenly Demon Sect’s surveillance. This was likely one of them. To survive until now meant he was both skilled and fortunate.

Hong Jian silently retreated a few steps. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to save him, but the only technique she could wield, “All Streams Return to the Origin,” was useless against these demonic creatures. Recklessly intervening would only endanger herself.

The man had only run a dozen or so feet before the black spheres caught up. Hong Jian finally understood why he was so persistently pursued. Though quick and agile, the creatures’ speed in water was terrifyingly fast.

How many more times could he cast that spell? Surely not enough to kill all the remaining spheres. If she stood by, he was doomed.

A pang of regret stirred in Hong Jian. She recalled Ji Youfeng’s words: those who fail to become true immortals will eventually perish. But it was a pity for such a promising young man, unwilling to bow to Ji Youyun, to die beneath demons. So she stepped back further to ensure her safety, then used divine communication to send a message: “Sir, I’m nearby. Unfortunately, my cultivation is limited, and I cannot save you. But if you have any unfinished wishes, you may tell me.”

The man heard Hong Jian’s voice and stumbled, nearly struck by the creatures.

He looked around but saw no one. In this situation, he could not extend his divine consciousness widely, so he hastily cast a spell to speak underwater, then shouted, “Who’s there? I’m still alive, so don’t make me leave a final message yet!”

Hong Jian was stunned.

The man, seeing no response, worried he had offended his savior with his words and grew anxious, calling out again, “One life saved is worth more than seven tiers of stupas. Save me, and I will serve you like a beast of burden. Please, help me!”

Hong Jian did not seek to build stupas, nor did she want to waste her life recklessly. Ji Youfeng’s sacrifice made her cherish life, but this man was someone she could not abandon.

He spoke just a few words, yet the voice barely stirred a faint memory. Twenty years had passed without hearing it. He was unwilling to waste even a shred of true energy, and these two sentences were sent through thousand-mile divine communication. Apart from Lu Yanchang, Hong Jian could think of no other.

It felt like another lifetime. His appearance stirred a warmth in Hong Jian’s heart, momentarily dispelling her sorrow and numbness.

In an instant, she recalled their secret conversations across prison cells in the Vermilion Bird Prison, using divine communication to dispel loneliness. If it was him, she could not stand by and watch him die.

But how to save him?

Seeing Lu Yanchang’s situation grow increasingly dire, Hong Jian was at a loss.