Chapter Seventy-Eight: No News at All

Day Seven.

The black pillar of light seemed to have contracted to its very limit and no longer shrank significantly, each beam stretching no more than thirty miles at most. Thus, the cultivators trapped here could no longer avoid each other, and inevitable friction arose as they came face to face.

Yet, early on this seventh day, everyone was shaken by a piece of news that spread quickly. The renowned Shao family of Shaohe Town in the Hengshan region, including the exceptionally gifted young Shao Ping, had vanished overnight as if into thin air—more than a dozen people, leaving no trace or clue. No signs of struggle were found at the scene; it was as though everyone had simply disappeared in an instant.

Of course, no matter how shocking or much-discussed this news was, it could not compare to the allure of the secret realm’s impending opening.

A few miles away, outside the so-called inheritance secret realm, stood a ramshackle cave dwelling. Wild grass grew in profusion, and the surroundings belonged to a spiritual mineral mountain range, where fragments of discarded spirit stones could still be found scattered across the ground. The cave mouth, clearly weathered by years, was unremarkable—only a few weeds and some scattered rocks nearby.

Yet in this seemingly insignificant place, everyone could detect a faint but persistent scent of blood, recently left behind. On a wooden plaque of unknown make above the cave entrance, the words “Southern Profound Sect” were boldly inscribed, the strokes biting deep into the wood—untouched by millennia of decay. The lower right corner bore the signature: Bai Li Mo.

There were no elaborate decorations, no ingenious mechanisms—everything was plain and simple. The cave of Bai Li Mo, who once dared to wipe out a sect single-handedly, now emanated only desolation.

Here was buried a cultivator—one who had already passed away. Here, too, was interred a story—a story already lost to time.

As if by tacit agreement, the crowd gathered outside the cave, silently awaiting the secret realm’s opening. Yu Daoyi gazed at the shadowy cave entrance, sensing as if some sound issued from within. The crimson scroll between his brows rose and fell, fluttering its pages—a warning, after so long dormant.

But in the very next moment, before Yu Daoyi and the others could react, dozens of beams of light suddenly descended from the pillar of black brilliance, instantly enveloping most of those present. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that all the cultivators at the Qi Refining stage were included.

The beams had come too suddenly, and those above the Qi Refining stage, suppressed by the formation, could not react in time. Within each beam, unexpected changes occurred, catching everyone off guard. Yu Daoyi looked around; both familiar and unfamiliar faces—almost all the Qi Refining cultivators—were caught within.

His heart sank sharply, for among those trapped were not only Qi Refining cultivators but also several well-known Foundation Establishment ones.

Surveying the group, Yu Daoyi noted the familiar Duan siblings and the Song family siblings. In front of Lin He stood a tall, proud young man—his face long and horse-like, pitted with freckles, his cropped hair and distinct family robe lending him a bizarre appearance.

Behind him, Lin He stood with deferential humility, wearing a flawless ingratiating smile, utterly unlike his usual composure. Clearly, the man before him was Lin Yang of the Lin clan.

At this moment, the plaque above the cave seemed to be slashed by some invisible force, a crack splitting its center. The wind rose anew, fiercer than ever, swirling within the pillar of light like a tempest.

Suppressed by the formation, even those previously skilled felt unsteady on their feet, except for those now trapped within the dozens of beams.

Inside the black pillar, phenomena changed abruptly. Everyone caught within was swept into the depths of the cave in an instant, and, as they vanished, the raging wind ceased.

The sudden transformation left everyone stunned. Fortunately, although the black pillar of light outside did not disappear, it did not contract further, and the feared outcome of being squeezed and dying from the pressure did not occur.

Just as all thought this was a narrow escape, the black light began to change, seeping with blood. Bloody streaks trickled down the pillars, a chilling sight. The black brilliance gradually shifted to crimson, and a bloodthirsty, violent, and sinister aura began to rise in everyone’s hearts.

A festival of blood was about to begin. At this moment, the killing formation was unleashed!

Inside the cave.

Pitch darkness reigned; not even a hand could be seen before one’s face. The scent of earth was thick in the air, and droplets of water fell from above—damp, cold, and exceedingly uncomfortable.

Suddenly, clusters of flames burst forth, illuminating the space. As he slowly picked himself up, Yu Daoyi felt as though his bones were about to fall apart—a pain he could barely describe, though thankfully it was nothing more than a few scrapes.

Rubbing his eyes, he saw by firelight that he was in a completely sealed cavern—spacious, but with no entrance or exit visible. The flames came from minor spells conjured by the surrounding cultivators.

Well, it seemed he was the only one here unable to do magic.

Looking around, he saw nothing but damp, foul-smelling black soil. The others appeared trapped here too.

“Brother Daoyi, are we trapped here?” came a familiar voice from behind.

“Heh, you really are everywhere.” Turning around, Yu Daoyi saw none other than Song Cheng—somehow, even when flung inside, they’d ended up together.

“...Brother Daoyi, could you not look at me like that? I didn’t want to come in either.”

Song Cheng looked aggrieved. He’d been content to laze about outside, but with the secret realm’s opening, they’d all been swept inside. What could he possibly do with his middling strength?

“Seems this Bai Li Mo never intended to let us choose from the start. Well, here we all are.” Yu Daoyi rubbed his temples.

“Where are my sister and Brother Yunfan?” Song Cheng asked, adding for good measure that he was half a year younger than Yu Yunfan.

“They should be nearby. Not sure where this is, though.”

As he spoke, Yu Daoyi suddenly sensed a gaze upon him. He turned to see a small, monkey-faced man with sharp features, not tall or handsome, a large saber strapped to his back, dressed in simple, tight-fitting clothes. To Yu Daoyi, he was a stranger, but the look he received was unfriendly, even wary.

“Isn’t that Chen Yi of the Chen family from Songshan?” Song Cheng nudged his companion, following the man’s gaze.

“Chen Yi? The one suspected of attacking other Qi Refining cultivators?” Yu Daoyi was surprised, though unsure why he’d drawn the man’s attention.

Must be jealous that I’m better looking, Yu Daoyi consoled himself. Such are the woes of the handsome.

“Yes, he’s said to be at the peak of the ninth Qi Refining stage, his Tiger Sparrow Saber wielded with masterful skill—among the strongest here,” Song Cheng said gravely.

“I recall you mentioned someone else this morning—who was it?” Yu Daoyi asked suddenly.

“My dear brother, did you miss today’s big news?” Song Cheng rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Is it more important than my lovely dreams at dawn?” Yu Daoyi brushed off Song Cheng’s nickname, but made a mental note of it.

“...Brother Daoyi, the other is Shao Ping of the Shao family in Hengshan. But last night, he and his entire family vanished—I didn’t see him outside the cave either.”

“Gone? Killed off as a threat?” Yu Daoyi asked.

“Shao Ping and Chen Yi are both ruthless characters. But to kill a dozen members of the Shao family would take incredible skill. What’s stranger, there were no signs of a struggle. It wasn’t murder—it’s as if they simply evaporated,” Song Cheng replied, his face grave.

Before Yu Daoyi could ponder this, the ground began to tremble. Bits of rock and damp soil tumbled from above.

Everyone crouched low to lessen the shaking. In the distance, a massive stone gate, formed from a single slab, slowly rose, admitting a sliver of light. Yet the gloom remained, and if that was an exit, it seemed very far away indeed.