The translucent silver mist suspended inside the Ghost-Fog Valley grew noticeably darker, thicker, and far more suffocating as Railin penetrated deeper into its jagged, labyrinthine stone depths. The ambient temperature plummeted further with every step he took, smelling less of damp mountain earth and decayed leaves, and far more of scorched spirit-stones, raw copper, stale blood, and lingering dark-attribute boundary arrays.
Having just broken through to the Second Level of Foundation Establishment merely minutes prior, Railin moved with completely fluid, effortless speed. The newly expanded and solidified void core inside his lower dantian spun with a deep, rhythmic, and heavy cadence, constantly radiating an invisible aura that devoured the intrusive, freezing properties of the valley's unnatural mist before it could even touch his skin. His refined spiritual sense—still anchored firmly at an uninterrupted two-hundred-pace radius—acted as an absolutely flawless, three-dimensional map in his mind, casting the jagged, shadow-drenched canyon and every hidden rock into crystal-clear relief.
Three hundred paces further down the winding path, the narrow canyon floor abruptly opened into a vast, natural stone basin sheltered on three sides by towering, overhanging basalt cliffs.
Inside the wide basin lay the scattered, smoking wreckage of the Sun-Moon Academy's outer supply convoy. Four massive, rune-carved ironwood supply wagons sat completely overturned, their heavy axles splintered into kindling and their protective defense wards thoroughly shattered by powerful strikes. Scattered across the damp gravel were the cold, stiff, and bloody remains of nearly a dozen outer sect guards who had been mercilessly slaughtered during the initial ambush.
In the exact center of the stone basin, closely surrounding six heavy iron chests filled to the brim with sparkling, unrefined spirit-granite, stood a dozen men. Ten of them were heavily armed, ruthless rogue cultivators dressed in mismatched, bloodstained armor, holding notched broadswords, heavy iron maces, and loaded spiritual crossbows.
Standing directly before the glowing iron chests were two men exuding far stronger, vastly superior spiritual pressure than the rest of the gang.
One was a short, hunchbacked cultivator possessing a greasy, pockmarked face and small, rat-like eyes. He wore the ragged crimson robes of a renegade blood-art master—known in the outer borderlands as Blood-Blade Mao, a notorious Stage Two Foundation Establishment rogue cultivator. Standing right beside him was a tall, exceptionally muscular man with a broad bare torso completely covered in glowing, bronze-colored body-refining tattoos—known as Iron-Skull Ba, a dangerous Stage Three Foundation Establishment martial cultivator.
"Keep your useless eyes wide open, you brainless dogs!" Blood-Blade Mao spat angrily, violently kicking one of his crouching subordinates in the shins. "The shadow market brokers clearly stated that Elder Xiang's administrative trap would drive the academy kid straight into the ambush point of Ghost-1 and Ghost-2! But until we receive the messenger talisman officially confirming his severed head has been taken, no one relaxes!"
"Why in the world are you always so damn nervous, Mao?" Iron-Skull Ba snorted loudly, crossing his massive, bronze-tinted arms over his broad chest. "Ghost-1 and Ghost-2 are top-tier Stage Three dark market assassins who have successfully taken down inner core disciples before. A greenhorn brat who barely reached Foundation Establishment three days ago doesn't stand a single prayer in hell against their joint overhead strike."
"Extreme caution is the sole reason I've survived twenty grueling years in these chaotic borderlands, Ba," Mao muttered grumpily, his small, sharp eyes scanning the edge of the swirling silver mist with deep suspicion. "Besides, rumors say the kid brutally crippled Feng Wushuang on the execution stage. Even if Ghost-1 successfully decapitates him, the kid might make enough noise during his death throes to draw nearby—"
Mao abruptly stopped mid-sentence.
A quiet, rhythmic, and incredibly calm sound echoed softly through the broad, rocky basin—the slow, light tap of dark boots coming down on the damp gravelly path.
The dozen rogue cultivators inside the basin instantly snapped their weapons up, their eyes widening in sheer shock as the dense silver fog at the entrance of the basin parted smoothly like a curtain. A solitary, slender figure clad in dark navy-blue robes walked calmly into the open clearing, his hands casually tucked into his wide sleeves. His dark, bottomless eyes were completely calm, his expression utterly devoid of fear, tension, or fatigue.
"You..." Iron-Skull Ba's massive jaw dropped slightly as he took in Railin's relaxed, unbothered demeanor. "How... how in the hell did you get past our outer sentries?!"
Blood-Blade Mao's pockmarked face turned deathly pale in a fraction of a second. His sharp spiritual sense reached out frantically, desperately searching the thick fog behind Railin for the familiar, cold shadow signatures of Ghost-1 and Ghost-2. He found absolutely nothing—only the empty, silent, and rolling silver mist.
"Where are Ghost-1 and Ghost-2?!" Mao shrieked out, drawing a jagged, blood-red scimitar from his leather waist belt with a sharp metallic rasp.
Railin stopped his unhurried stride exactly ten paces from the overturned supply wagons. He looked at the dozen armed rogues before him, his pitch-black pupils reflecting their tense, bloodstained, and panicking faces with absolute, cold-blooded indifference.
"They met a rather tragic, permanent end," Railin replied smoothly, his tone flat, calm, and utterly conversational. "However, their Stage Three spirit essence was quite nourishing. It allowed me to consolidate my breakthrough to the Second Level of Foundation Establishment rather comfortably."
"Second Level Foundation Establishment?!" Iron-Skull Ba roared out in utter disbelief, his massive eyes bulging from their sockets. "Blatant lies! Three days ago you were barely at the First Level! And Ghost-1 was a seasoned Stage Three master! Men, charge and kill him right now! He's merely playing cheap mental tricks on us!"
"Kill him!"
Four Stage One Foundation rogue cultivators rushed forward simultaneously at his command, their heavy broadswords flaring with volatile, jagged qi beams as they leapt toward Railin from four different aerial angles, fully intending to chop him into bloody pieces!
Railin did not even bother to draw a blade or shift his feet.
HUMMM—!
His brow center flashed with a subtle, icy, and terrifying luminescence as his vast, two-hundred-pace spiritual sense erupted like a silent volcano!
First Soul-Piercing Needle!
Second Soul-Piercing Needle!
SHOOSH! SHOOSH!
Two dark, invisible needles forged from concentrated cold-soul energy shot through the air, splitting mid-flight into four precise, lethal soul threads that struck all four charging rogues square between their eyes before their blades could descend!
"AAAGH!"
The four men instantly froze mid-air as if struck by lightning bolts. Their eyes rolled completely into the backs of their heads, thick black blood spurting wildly from their noses and ears as their soul seas were instantly pulverized into dust! Their lifeless bodies collapsed heavily onto the hard gravel, stone-dead before their torsos even struck the ground.
"WHAT IN THE WORLD?!"
"He... he didn't even touch them!"
The remaining rogue minions backed away in absolute, uncontrollable panic, their legs trembling uncontrollably as they stared at the four lifeless, bleeding bodies lying on the ground.
Before the surviving thugs could turn around to flee into the fog, Railin casually extended his pale right hand. A massive, suffocating wave of pitch-black, devouring void qi erupted violently from his open palm like a rising, abyssal dark tide!
The Ashen Devouring Technique!
BOOM!
The dark void aura completely flooded the entire stone basin, sweeping over the six remaining rogue subordinates with terrifying speed! The volatile dark qi violently entered their mouths, nostrils, ears, and open pores, forcibly suppressing their physical movements and instantly extracting their life essence and spiritual energy in thick, visible, liquid streams!
"NO! PLEASE SPARE ME—!"
"ELDER MAO, SAVE US—!"
Within ten horrific, agonizing seconds, the six rogue subordinates collapsed into shriveled, dried-up, and lifeless husks, their combined lifetime cultivation flowing straight into Railin's body to further nourish his broadened meridians and core.
Blood-Blade Mao and Iron-Skull Ba stood completely frozen in absolute, mind-numbing terror. In less than twenty seconds, their entire twelve-man squad had been completely, effortlessly wiped out by a single teenager who hadn't even broken a single drop of sweat!
"Demon... he's an absolute demon!" Mao screamed out, completely losing his mind and nerve. He threw his blood-red scimitar frantically to the ground, crushed a high-grade speed-boosting talisman in his trembling palm, and turned around to leap wildly back into the dense fog!
"Where precisely do you think you are going?" Railin's ice-cold voice sounded directly beside his ear.
Before Mao could even register the physical movement, Railin materialized directly next to him like a phantom. Railin's pale, slender hand shot forward with lightning speed, wrapping tightly around Mao's throat like an unyielding iron vice, lifting the Stage Two blood master completely off the ground effortlessly!
"RELEASE HIM RIGHT NOW!"
Iron-Skull Ba screamed in sheer rage, his bronze body-refining tattoos flaring with blinding, metallic golden light. He stomped his foot heavily onto the ground, shattering the granite beneath his boots into powder as he drove a massive, fist-sized martial qi blast straight toward Railin's unprotected temple!
Railin didn't even bother to glance at him. He casually raised his left hand, his pale palm meeting Iron-Skull Ba's fully powered, Stage Three body-refining fist head-on in mid-air!
BANG—!
A violent, deafening shockwave tore through the entire stone basin, completely flattening the surrounding silver fog and blasting heavy gravel in every direction!
Iron-Skull Ba's wide eyes opened in sheer, unadulterated horror. His full-power, body-refined fist—capable of shattering solid iron fortress walls—felt as if it had slammed violently into an unyielding, bottomless mountain of dark cold iron! Railin's boots hadn't shifted even a fraction of an inch, his left hand holding Ba's massive fist with effortless stability while his right hand kept Mao choked and thrashing in mid-air!
"Impossible... physically impossible..." Ba stammered out, his thick arm trembling violently under the dark void pressure radiating from Railin's palm.
"Your body refining technique is far too crude," Railin stated flatly, his dark, pitch-black eyes meeting Ba's close face. "And your spirit essence is vastly unrefined."
BOOM!
The third Soul-Piercing Needle shot instantly from Railin's forehead directly into Iron-Skull Ba's unprotected upper dantian, paralyzing his spiritual consciousness completely. Simultaneously, the Ashen Devouring Technique flared to maximum life in both of Railin's palms!
BUZZZZ—!
Two massive, glowing liquid streams of dark red and bronze spiritual energy were forcibly ripped from the struggling dantians of Mao and Ba! The two Stage Two and Stage Three masters shrieked in agonizing, bone-chilling torment as their lifetime cultivation was violently siphoned out, their muscular bodies rapidly shrinking and drying up until only two empty, lifeless husks remained suspended in Railin's grasp.
Railin casually opened his hands, letting the two shriveled corpses drop heavily onto the damp gravel beside the six overturned supply wagons.
He stood entirely alone in the quiet, ruined basin, slowly exhaling a long, dark stream of refined spiritual breath that dissipated into the air. His Second Level Foundation Establishment core thrummed with overwhelming, terrifying power, now fully saturated, settled, and supremely stable.
Railin turned his head, looking over at the six heavy iron chests filled to the brim with sparkling, high-grade spirit-granite. With a simple, fluid flick of his wide navy sleeve, he swept all six iron chests straight into his spatial storage pouch without leaving a single stone behind.
"The borderland investigation mission is officially complete," Railin whispered softly to the quiet air, turning his dark, bottomless eyes back toward the distant direction of the Sun-Moon Academy. "Now... it is time to return and hand Elder Xiang his completed mission report.
See you in next chapter....