With Ghost Wall upon him, Jing Qian immediately felt a strange sensation. A chilling spatial force surged up from his sea of consciousness, circling his body and forming a ring.
It was the power of space itself, an independent domain under his control, manifesting in the mortal world.
Before he could even react, the might of Sumeru wove itself into this domain, merging seamlessly with Ghost Wall's strength.
Empowered by the cave-heaven, the domain surged in potency, fully completing its transformation.
Jing Qian could sense it clearly: the entire domain lay under his command. Within its bounds, he could distort the rules of space, confuse perception, and twist an intruder's sense of direction.
He then condensed the domain, compressing it to the extreme until it shrank into a thin film that wrapped tightly around his body.
The ultimate compression of spatial power meant unparalleled defense.
Next, he lifted his hand, summoning forth the Painted-Skin Ghost.
Once the Painted-Skin Ghost melded onto his flesh, Jing Qian directed its power to overlay a human skin atop the film of Ghost Wall.
This false skin mirrored his true appearance perfectly, while also bolstering his defenses.
Not finished, he stationed a Marker Ghost there, then vanished in a flash.
Reappearing, he returned to the Rising Moon Island fleet and stood beside the Mist Ghost.
After swapping out the Mist Ghost for his second Marker Ghost, he invited the Mist Ghost onto himself as well.
Now, over the false skin cloaking him, a veil of illusory mist shrouded his form completely, concealing him from prying eyes.
At last, with Sumeru, Ghost Wall, the Painted-Skin Ghost, and the Mist Ghost working in concert, he forged a layered defense: disguise, concealment, transformation, and protection all in one.
He named this fortress of protections Sumeru Ghost-Skin and made it a permanent part of himself.
And the Ghost-Skin proved its worth.
The blood-bead brand left by the Sea of Resentful Souls was now completely suppressed, appearing only as a faint red dot at his brow, like an innocuous birthmark.
With the Ghost-Skin, he was confident that even if he re-entered that dreadful sea, no ghost could track him.
The work had drained him almost completely; his mana was once again near empty.
Still, the harvest from the Sea of Resentful Souls had been immense. His strength had doubled yet again. Pushing forward with all his might, he finally possessed enough self-preservation to contest for the fortune of the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven.
By his reckoning, only seven days remained until the fifth of May.
He arranged no more distractions; he would recover, sharpen his edge, and meet the greatest trial of his cultivation road to date.
The pressure was like the eve of a great tournament in his former life, thrilling, daunting, yet stirring.
Jing Qian cloaked his form and slipped away from the Rising Moon Island fleet.
Only ten thousand miles remained to Sea Province. At full speed, he could reach it in less than two hours.
He left behind a marker on the fleet, then dove into the depths of the sea. After some searching, he found a sea-eye cavern and concealed himself there.
Thus began his seven-day seclusion.
Day One – Restored all his depleted mana to fullness.
Day Two – Did absolutely nothing. Lying in the Void Realm like a corpse, and slept deeply.
Day Three – Went out to the sea, gathered sea cucumbers, abalone, and lobsters, roasted them on the Void Furnace until fragrant, and feasted until stuffed.
Day Four – Bored, wandered through the Furnace House Market all day. With three seventh-rank Fate Flames in hand, he tried to splurge, haggling everywhere, though utterly broke, nearly got beaten for his antics, yet left satisfied.
Day Five – Joyous news from the Void Furnace: the Revolving Heavenly Son Seal broke through, its fifth face fully opened. Before entering the cave-heaven, an unexpected advance! He immediately engraved Ghost Wall upon the seal, further reinforcing his Sumeru Ghost-Skin's defenses.
Day Six – To sharpen himself, he entered the Stele Space and slew nearly all of his stored sixth-rank soul avatars, leaving only the strongest, the demon dragon, in reserve.
Day Seven – Drew out the cave-heaven marker acquired from Chi Ling, holding it in his palm.
The Sumeru Ghost-Skin trembled and twisted. His entire appearance changed into a sallow-faced, plain-featured young cultivator of five and a half feet.
Utterly ordinary, indistinguishable from the crowd.
Immediately, the beacon in Jing Qian's hand flickered, and his entire figure vanished from sight.
According to the jade slip Fan Zhuoyi had exchanged with him, the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven was, like the Sea of Resentful Souls, one of the Ten Great Forbidden Grounds of the Ying Futuo Realm.
But unlike the Sea of Resentful Souls, where mortals dared not tread and danger reigned supreme, the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven was a sacred land of cultivation existing outside the grasp of the Divine Dynasty's system.
As for what made it "sacred," even Fan Zhuoyi had not been able to uncover the details. She only said this: once every hundred years, the cave-heaven would open, releasing twelve beacons. Whoever obtained one could enter.
Only the most elite seventh-rank Longevity-realm cultivators of each great lineage could hope to secure a beacon.
Within, they would battle in contests of dao and spell, striving for fortune.
And every time the cave-heaven opened, those who emerged victorious would inevitably ascend to resonate with the stars, breaking through to at least the fourth-rank Star-Seizer realm. For countless generations, not a single exception.
It was clear enough: untold treasures and supreme resources were sealed within.
Those twelve cave-heaven beacons were tightly monopolized by the twelve great academies' lineages, rarely ever released to outsiders.
Thus, in all of Yingdu, there was no detailed record of what lay within the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven.
Fan Zhuoyi had labored bitterly to pry loose even a scrap of information, finally hearing a cryptic saying from an old cultivator, who had gotten it second- or third-hand from someone who had actually entered:
"When the Ying clan stumbles, all feast; when a swordsman loses his head, fortune appears."
To Jing Qian, it sounded decidedly unfriendly toward both the Ying clan and sword cultivators of the Pure Yang Ruins.
But he had too little context to puzzle out its deeper meaning, and frankly, he couldn't be bothered.
He had already wrung every ounce of potential from himself, raising his combat power to its absolute peak.
Now he wanted only one thing: to step inside and cross blades with true prodigies to see firsthand what kind of brilliance the so-called "top talents" possessed.
This wasn't blind arrogance. He had used his Worldly Insight to repeatedly simulate, comparing himself against Wu Jian and Chi Ling.
By his current strength, he was no weaker than both Longevity experts.
If Chi Ling dared to risk the cave-heaven, why shouldn't he?
His sword had already given him boundless courage.
He stirred the currents of time and space, piercing through the realm's source nexus, arriving at a convergence of vital energy.
Though he had entered and exited his own cave-heaven countless times, this was the first time he had stepped into one as an outsider.
In that shifting transition, he experienced something utterly new.
Standing before the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven, he drew one final breath of essence, glanced once at the information inscribed upon his Sumeru Grand Dao Stele, and stepped in without hesitation.
[Host: Jing Qian]
Lifespan: 80 years
Fate Weight: 6 taels 1 qian / 9 taels 9 qian
Life Essence: 27 × 2.2 (Azure Wing)
Spiritual Constructs: Green Qingping Sword-Casket, Revolving Heavenly Son Seal, Xili Divine Seal
Heavenly Mandates: Sumeru, Qingping's End, Bian Yuan Weiyang, Hell's Painted Scroll
Missing Mandates: Worldly Insight, Tushita Furnace
Life Patterns: Flesh-Bud (Violet), Tidal Surge (Half-Violet), Soul-Weaver (Half-Blue), Ghost-Seal (Violet), Ghost Wall (Half-Violet), Lifespan (Azure – 5 hours 3 quarters)
A supreme Dragon-Elephant realm cultivator, armed with four Heavenly Mandates and three Spiritual Constructs, Jing Qian descended into the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven.
The very next instant
A spiked flail, like a wolf-toothed chain-mace, crashed toward him with overwhelming force!
Caught in the disorientation of spatial transit, Jing Qian was momentarily sluggish. By the time he sensed the strike, the flail was already unavoidable.
He roared, and his Sumeru Ghost-Skin swelled outward, puffing him up like a bloated giant.
But the ghost-skin met the flail head-on. A crushing power surged down, shattering cracks through his defense.
Through those cracks seeped an irresistible Fifth-Rank Golden-Root Life Essence, nearly ripping Jing Qian's flesh apart!
He was a hair's breadth from losing his qualification to remain in the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven.
At the last moment, he reacted, unleashing Bian Yuan Weiyang. His form blurred into a phantom, vanishing from beneath the flail.
The spiked chain revealed a lattice of starlight sigils; with a second swing, it came crashing down again, tearing the air in a maelstrom of force.
But its target was gone. Only two threads of sword-light remained behind, looping around the weapon and slicing toward its wielder.
Clang!
Twin peals of metal rang out, echoing for dozens of miles.
Yet Jing Qian's peerless Qingping Sword Qi failed to achieve a decisive result.
Now he stood high above, upon the clouds, gazing distantly at the battlefield below.
At his chest, a Flesh-Bud quietly burst, releasing a flood of vital energy that instantly healed every injury.
The Sumeru Ghost-Skin covering him, too, drank in his replenished mana, and swiftly knitted its cracks whole again.
He swiftly returned to his peak condition, no longer showing a trace of his earlier disarray.
But the sudden appearance of such a powerful foe and suffering the first grievous wound since his rebirth still filled Jing Qian with a deep, simmering anger.
In that brief instant just now, he had nearly resorted to linking with Sumeru, fleeing into his pocket dimension for safety. But he had gritted his teeth and held back.
Inside the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven, Jing Qian discovered his greatest disadvantage:
His Sumeru cave-heaven could not be freely used!
Although the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven did not outright forbid the power of Sumeru, once Jing Qian retreated into his own domain, it was the same as withdrawing from the trial entirely.
To re-enter, he would have to wait another century for the cave-heaven to open and release new beacons.
Unless he stood at death's door, he would never waste such a rare chance.
That meant he could no longer rely on hiding in the void dimension; his combat strength was undeniably cut down by a large margin.
He had no choice now but to wield only his Heavenly Mandate sword against his enemies!
Jing Qian's Worldly Insight spun at full speed, and with the aid of his newly strengthened Ghost Eyes, he clearly perceived the one who had struck him earlier.
Standing tall upon the earth was a colossal figure, a giant forged entirely of metal, holding in its hands a silver chain-flail, the very weapon that had nearly smashed Jing Qian apart.
Yet the giant made no move to pursue him. Instead, it lifted its crystal head toward the sky, transmitting a calm message:
"Fellow Daoist, take no offense. The fortunes of this cave-heaven are rare beyond measure, and from the instant we stepped inside, our competition began."
"I act not out of personal enmity. Everyone who enters here receives three strikes from my hammer. If you can endure, we will continue. If not, then you may as well depart."
"Your movement arts are superb; clearly, you've passed my test. But if you are dissatisfied, come down and cross hands with me, I'll gladly oblige."
The giant's head was no human face, but a massive crystal. And within that crystal dome, Jing Qian saw it clearly: a frail-looking cultivator seated cross-legged, wearing a detached, almost bored expression as he explained his philosophy.
To ambush newcomers before they had even found their footing, such shamelessness!
Jing Qian's Worldly Insight dissected the scene, and key information surfaced before his eyes:
Spiritual Construct: Chain-Linked Divine Machine, 167th Generation (Modified)
Category: external moon
Grade: Fifth Rank
Suppression Requirement: Manifestation of a Spirit-Treasure
Lifespan Burden: Two days per day
This chain-flail giant was in fact a monstrously powerful Fifth-Rank Spiritual Construct!
No wonder Jing Qian's fiercest Qingping Sword Qi had struck its metallic body and left nothing but two faint scratches.
It was said that in the Divine Dynasty's Mo Continent, there was an academy-lineage called the Chongxuan Palace, renowned for its master artisans, peerless in forging treasures.
This strange spiritual machine, blending their highest craft, was without doubt the personal construct of a Chongxuan Palace Spiritual Construct Disciple.
To encounter such an opponent as his very first rival inside the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven, Jing Qian immediately realized the challenge ahead was formidable.
Though he had narrowly evaded the chain-flail's crushing force, this Fifth-Rank spiritual construct was not an enemy he could easily overcome.
He refrained from charging back in revenge. Instead, he stayed hidden among the clouds, eyes fixed upon the giant below, probing for weaknesses.
Only now did he have a moment to take in the strange nature of this cave-heaven.
The Zhuoling Cave-Heaven was vast beyond measure, yet most of it was shrouded in thick, impenetrable mist.
The area where he and the Chongxuan Palace disciple stood was a circle of land a hundred miles across the sole clear space, surrounding a perfectly round lake like a polished jade disc.
Paved in flawless jade tiles, symmetrically arrayed, the entire scene radiated order and harmony.
No living beings stirred here; only he and the other cultivator remained.
Just then, another beacon-bearer pierced the barriers of time and space, descending into the domain.
Jing Qian looked closely. It was a middle-aged Daoist in flowing robes, handsome as carved jade, bearing himself with great dignity.
But before the man could even steady himself, a massive chain-flail came crashing down.
"Chi!"
The middle-aged Daoist roared in fury, erupting with crystalline light. A pagoda dharma-projection manifested above him, shielding his body.
But the chain-flail carried the full weight of a Fifth-Rank Earth Fiend strike, irresistible in force!
The protective pagoda was instantly shattered, bursting into motes of starlight.
Before the man could react, the second strike was already upon him.
Despite all his spells and techniques, he had no chance to act.
With a sickening crunch, the hammer smashed his head into the jade tiles, face destroyed, body broken like blossoms scattered by a storm.
A heartbeat later, a strange power within the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven surged forth, whisking the grievously wounded cultivator away.
His chance, earned after so many years of bitter struggle, was gone in an instant.
Watching the whole scene, Jing Qian came to a cold conclusion:
In battles below the Third Rank, a strong external moon spiritual machine was simply too overpowered.
That middle-aged Daoist had surely walked the path of the Self-Seeking Root, a lineage most beneficial for long-term cultivation, but lacking in early-stage combat power. Thus, he had been smashed out in two blows.
At least the Zhuoling Cave-Heaven had spared his life. But when he emerged, it would be years before he recovered from the humiliation.
Soon after, yet another cultivator arrived within the domain of the Chongxuan disciple.
As expected, the disciple swung his chain-flail once more, the weapon crashing down like thunder.
Clang!
A resounding metallic crash rang out like a struck gong.
This newcomer, Jing Qian now saw, had curled himself inside a massive bronze cauldron.
The chain-flail hammered the cauldron like a great drum. Even from afar, Jing Qian's eardrums buzzed painfully with the shock.
But the Chongxuan disciple showed no sign of stopping. With another swing, the flail smashed down, producing another deafening crash.
Then, as though finding delight in the noise, he continued his pounding in rhythm:
Bang!
Clang!
Boom!
He had just sworn that he would only strike three times, yet in the blink of an eye, he'd already swung nearly a dozen hammers.
Jing Qian still hadn't gotten a clear look at who exactly was hiding under that cauldron.
But just from the shape and style of the vessel, he could guess this had to be one of the cooks from the Kitchen King Hall.
This academy lineage was a most peculiar one, having taken the culinary Dao to its absolute extreme.
Their sect was renowned for preparing spirit foods and rare medicinal feasts, masters of flame and cauldron, wielders of the greatest number of titled furnaces in the Yingfutu Realm. Their standing was high indeed.
Jing Qian's sharp eyes caught every detail. That bronze cauldron was no common implement either:
Spiritual Construct: Gluttonous Cauldron & Spatula
Type: external moon / Self-Seeking Root
Grade: Fourth Rank
Suppression Requirement: Manifestation of Spirit or Ghost, Manifestation of Treasure
Lifespan Burden: One day per day
This set of cauldron and spatula was actually ranked even higher than the chain-flail construct opposite!
Clearly, this "cook" was playing the pig to eat the tiger.
Just then, another figure materialized.
The Zhuoling Cave-Heaven was already turning into a boiling stewpot of chaos.
The newly arrived beacon-bearer seemed well-prepared; the moment he appeared, a spiritual construct already cloaked his form.
This one looked twenty-something, dressed in black robes, face powdered white, a jade coronet crowning his head. His features were unnervingly delicate, almost genderless.
And behind him stood a radiant, immaculate goddess, pressing both hands over his eyes.
As the chain-flail came hurtling down, two furry fox tails suddenly unfurled from the goddess's back, wrapping tightly around the hammer mid-swing.
Then the androgynous cultivator leaned back, his body sank directly into the goddess's frame.
Her belly swelled as if with child, and the purity of her features twisted, taking on the exact sinister aura of the one who had merged with her.
This man had managed, at only the Seventh Rank, to ignite Avatar Armament!
Jing Qian recognized it instantly. The avatar was none other than Tamamo-no-Mae, a powerful fox-spirit goddess. And the radiant construct behind him was a formidable and perfectly matched spiritual machine:
Spiritual Construct: Eyes of Tamamo-no-Mae
Type: external moon
Grade: Fifth Rank
Suppression Requirement: Manifestation of Spirit or Ghost, Manifestation of Fox
Lifespan Burden: One day per day
No doubt about it, this was the current Spiritual Construct Disciple of the Jingyun Shrine!
His original eyes had long since been replaced by the fox's own. Looking closely, one could see the vulpine gleam within them. It was the core of his power, and an organ he could never part with.
With the fusion of the construct's pupils, his strength surged to terrifying levels.
The Tamamo avatar, fully armed, wrapped tight around his true body, then stretched into its full form a magnificent white fox.
Two fox tails once more bound the chain-flail, and the fox lunged straight at the Chain-Linked Construct.
But in that instant, the hammer caught in the tails suddenly detonated!
Boom!
The seemingly solid wolf-tooth hammer exploded into countless parts, each piece joined by copper threads. Under the manipulations of the Chongxuan Palace disciple, the components reassembled into a massive chainsaw.
The saw roared to life, spinning at impossible speed, slicing straight through the fox tails.
The Tamamo avatar let out a sharp cry of pain but did not falter, pouncing toward the construct with renewed ferocity.
Two huge jets of blue fire erupted from the back of the mechanical giant, blasting like rockets and hurling it upward with jet propulsion!
But before it could soar high, a plain iron spatula appeared from the side, slapped across both exhaust nozzles, and smothered the flames in an instant.
Then the spatula retracted back into the cauldron, as if nothing had happened.
When it came to handling fire, a Kitchen King chef had no equal.
Stripped of thrust, the Chain-Linked Construct crashed back to the ground just in time for Tamamo to slam into it, pinning it beneath her claws.
The white fox opened its maw wide and bit down on the machine, fangs gleaming like carved jade, infused with a vigorous Golden Root Life Essence. Sparks flew as its teeth ground deep into the construct's body.
"Wretched beast!"
The Chongxuan Palace disciple roared from within, unleashing his machine's full might.
The Chain-Linked Construct shattered apart, unraveling into a storm of chains. Each chain sprouted razor-thin saw-teeth, spinning at blinding speed.
In an instant, he spread a net of whirring blades, dragging the white fox beneath it and tearing wildly into its body.
Two Fifth-Rank spiritual constructs clashed with unrestrained fury, shaking the cave-heaven with waves of destructive power.
The two spectators reacted in very different ways.
The bronze cauldron crept toward the battlefield's edge, its rim lifting just enough for a chubby little chef to peek out nervously, ready to duck back inside at any moment.
Meanwhile, the hidden ghost-swordsman in the sky ignored all else, unleashing strand after strand of razor-fine sword threads.
Each strand struck in tandem with the chainsaw's cuts, slashing into the fox's fresh wounds. With every strike, a dozen sword-shadows followed, dense and dazzling.
The sword threads alone lacked the force to break Tamamo's defenses.
But Jing Qian cared nothing for results. The Jingyun Shrine was his sworn enemy. He sought no victory, only that every stroke found its mark.
For each strike, his Life-Severing Sword Qi drained a sliver of lifespan.
Every slash harvested more than fifteen minutes of life span. Even the sword shadows carried the same effect.
Sword threads and sword shadows together each cut extended his life by half an hour.
It was intoxicating, a harvest he couldn't stop himself from craving.
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