Translator: CinderTL
"Nursing a broken heart?" Qin Manyang teased once they were alone.
"Sigh... Why doesn't she like me? Is it just because my cultivation level is too low?" Lin Fan couldn't understand Zuoqiu Shu's rejection.
"Of course not. Even if you were the holy son, the Zuoqiu Clan would never approve," Qin Manyang explained patiently.
"Why not?"
"Because the Zuoqiu Clan is a righteous dao noble clan located in righteous dao territory. If they align too closely with us, they'll face joint suppression from forces like the Heaven's Will Demon Subduing Temple. The Zuoqiu Clan can't afford to take that risk. Do you understand now?"
Lin Fan suddenly realized the problem lay with himself.
"Then what should I do?" Lin Fan desperately wanted a solution.
Qin Manyang spread her hands, a smile playing on her lips. "Simple. Beat them until they dare not refuse. If the Zuoqiu Clan objects, crush the Zuoqiu Clan. If the Heaven's Will Demon Subduing Temple objects, annihilate those bald donkeys."
The words were meant as a joke, but Lin Fan took them seriously, nodding solemnly. "The elder is right. It all comes down to strength. If I'm strong enough, no one will dare oppose us!"
"Huh?"
Qin Manyang turned to stare at him as if he were a fool. "You're not actually planning to destroy the Heaven's Will Demon Subduing Temple, are you?"
Lin Fan looked puzzled. "Didn't you say to?"
"..."
Lin Fan clenched his fist tightly. "Please inform the holy son that I wish to venture out alone for training. Hiding under his protection will never allow me to face true hardship!"
"Ambitious," Qin Manyang remarked, dismissing it as a joke. She figured the boy would probably end up dying in some forgotten corner of the world sooner or later.
"Farewell!"
Lin Fan, decisive as ever, clasped his hands in a fist salute and turned to leave.
"Tsk tsk..." Qin Manyang clicked her tongue, curling her lip in amusement.
Xu Sanyan held a crystal-clear soul stone in his hand, rubbing it gently with a faint smile. This was the treasure of the eighth floor, and he had seen one before.
During his time in the Heart-Inquiry Hall, the Mad Daoist had produced one right in front of him. This item, known as a soul stone or soul crystal, possessed extraordinary uses, its primary function being the condensation of souls.
However, it could only be used by those in the Soul Refining Realm.
Soul stones were exceedingly rare and never circulated on the market. Even with spirit stones, they were impossible to purchase—a true case of "priceless but unavailable."
Xu Sanyan carefully stored the soul stone away for future use.
"Let's go check out the ninth floor."
As they ascended, the ninth floor stood in stark contrast to the previous levels. In the vast, empty chamber, a solitary figure stood motionless, his aged face gazing calmly at the four newcomers, a wisp of beard hanging to his chest.
Xu Sanyan's pupils constricted. This person... radiated no aura whatsoever!
Either this individual's cultivation level was so profound that he could completely conceal his aura, leaving no trace.
Or... he wasn't alive at all!
"Greetings, Senior," Xu Sanyan said, bowing respectfully.
"This humble one is a wisp of soul from the Yaotian Holy Sect's executive elder, and the trial of the ninth floor of the drum tower. Defeat me, and you may enter the tenth floor to claim the sage's legacy."
The old man's voice was stiff, like a machine operating according to a predetermined program.
Xu Sanyan breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a trial, after all. He'd almost believed someone could actually live for over thirty thousand years. A mere inanimate object wasn't worth the surprise. He steeled himself and said,
"Please enlighten me, Senior."
Whoosh!
Before the words had even faded, the old man vanished instantly, reappearing beside Xu Sanyan with fingers curved like hooks, aiming straight for his neck.
Bang!
Xu Sanyan's hand shot up, striking first despite being the defender. Fist and claw collided, creating a thunderous boom as the old man was sent hurtling backward at even greater speed.
In contrast, Xu Sanyan stood rooted to the ground like an ancient tree, unmoving and unshaken.
"Is that all you've got?" Xu Sanyan tilted his head. Could it be that the old man's divine soul power had dissipated during his long dormancy, weakening his strength?
After thirty thousand years, even the most meticulously crafted arrangements would inevitably develop flaws. It was only natural.
The old man's expression remained unchanged, utterly indifferent to the exchange. Regaining his balance, he launched another attack, his aged palm glowing with wisps of purple energy as he struck out with ferocious force.
In an instant, the room was bathed in a purple glow as a massive, ethereal palm struck forward.
Xu Sanyan felt a twinge of disappointment. This attack was far weaker than Fang Qingge's Qingge Sword Intent. He didn't even need to manifest his dao body. With a casual lift of his hand, Spiritual Power coalesced before him, forming a milky-white barrier that completely blocked the giant palm, leaving even Xiang Tan, standing nearby, unharmed.
"Old geezer," Xu Sanyan sneered, "since you're dead, just rest in peace. Stop haunting the living."
He bared his teeth, braced his knees, and lunged forward like a cannonball, his palms slamming heavily into the old man's chest.
Clang!
The old man's body was flung uncontrollably across the room, crashing violently against the wall. The deafening impact echoed endlessly through the empty chamber.
Xu Sanyan shook his wrist, his arm numb from the impact. This old bastard is tough, he thought.
His gaze remained indifferent as he stared at the old man pinned against the wall, ready to finish him off. But his movements suddenly slowed.
The old man's rigid eyes slowly turned, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of human warmth seemed to return to them.
He's alive? Xu Sanyan's heart jolted. What kind of masochistic constitution is this? Does getting beaten up revive him?
"Where... am I?" the old man rasped, his voice no longer as stiff as before.
"Senior, who are you?" Xu Sanyan asked, his tone becoming polite once more.
"This old man is an executive elder of the Yaotian Holy Sect. Which sect do you juniors belong to? Where is the great elder?" The old man stepped forward, detaching himself from the wall and shaking his groggy head.
Great elder? What great elder?
Xu Sanyan cautiously asked, "Do you remember what year it is?"
"Isn't it the year 23756 of the holy calendar?"
Xu Sanyan lowered his gaze silently. The old man's memories were still stuck in the era of the Yaotian Holy Sect. Why had he suddenly regained a sliver of consciousness? Perhaps the passage of time had weakened some seals?
Regardless, this old man had to die. Otherwise, how would Xu Sanyan obtain the sage's legacy treasure?
Behind him, the two elders exchanged incredulous glances. A figure from thirty thousand years ago, resurrected? Even sages couldn't live for thirty thousand years unless they ascended to immortality!
"Do you... remember anything else?"
Xu Sanyan's eyes narrowed imperceptibly before he quickly adopted a humble smile.
"What do I remember..."
The question stumped him. The old man rubbed his head, his aged face contorted with struggle as he tried to recall why he was here. But his memory seemed to have a gap; the harder he tried, the less he could remember, only fueling his anxiety.
Xu Sanyan didn't press him, standing quietly to the side. After a long silence, the old man lowered his head and murmured,
"This old one remembers... we followed the great elder to forge the secret realm, a task that consumed a century. When the realm was completed..."
The old man's voice suddenly faltered, his aged head snapping up, his face etched with despair.
"The great elder... refined us all into the secret realm..."
Xu Sanyan's pupils dilated, his heart nearly stopping for a moment. A sudden realization flashed through his mind.
The Hundred Saints Secret Realm...
Could it mean a secret realm forged using hundreds of sages...?
(End of the Chapter)
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