The grassy floor of the hidden tomb was littered with the corpses of the Golden Crow Dynasty's army. Countless bodies piled upon one another, forming small hills of the dead. Streams of blood flowed endlessly, merging into rivers that stretched for miles. The thick stench of iron and death permeated the air, while the wind passed by in utter silence, as if even the heavens dared not speak in the face of such carnage.
More than half of the Golden Crow Dynasty's soldiers had perished without the slightest chance of resistance. Only a scattered few still clung weakly to life, gasping amid the remains and moaning from wounds beyond healing.
As for the seven women celestial maidens of the world above each of them was in a miserable state no less than the others. Their once-pristine white robes were stained with blood, their delicate skin cracked and bruised, and traces of spiritual sword clashes marred their bodies from head to toe.
And yet, none of them had fallen. The seven of them formed a perfectly balanced unit, skilled in both offense and defense. Among them were those capable of fierce attacks, those who could defend against any form of assault, and even those with healing abilities. To kill all seven of them was no simple task.
In another corner of the battlefield, Lei Chen, Guan Zixuan, and Ye Liyin stood in the sky, gazing down upon the chaotic field below. All three bore injuries, though not to a critical extent. Only Lei Chen remained untouched, not a single wound or blemish on his body. The brutal battle just moments ago had left not even the slightest mark on him.
Throughout the prolonged fight, each of them had received a mental transmission from Han Ming, instructing them to regroup at the center of the hidden tomb.
Lei Chen turned to the other two and spoke.
"Let's go. We can't kill them right now. Continuing this would be pointless. We've already gained more than enough."
Guan Zixuan gave a small nod before turning to leave. Ye Liyin glanced at Sui Qi, the seventh daughter of Sui Zimeng, with visible irritation.
"Blood Demon Clan... so damn troublesome."
The three figures vanished into the void at once. Sui Yi, the eldest of the seven celestial maidens, remained standing. Her gaze was cold as she watched the fading traces of their departure. Then she gave a calm, steady order.
"Recover your strength. I can feel something… something far worse is coming."
"Understood, Eldest Sister!"
The unified response of her six younger sisters rang out without hesitation.
"Yes, First Princess!"
The surviving soldiers on the battlefield immediately dropped to their knees and shouted in unison. Though they were barely hanging on, not a single one dared to show their weakness.
Sui Yi, the twin-blade wielder, turned her eyes toward the place where the void was slowly dissipating. Her gaze was heavy with shadows of resentment and defeat that she could not conceal.
In that previous battle… they had not even come close to calling it a fair fight. The only reason any of them were still alive was because of their superior numbers and because of her seventh sister, Sui Qi, who had borne the brunt of all three opponents' attacks. Without that, they would have been utterly annihilated without a chance to resist. That battle had been three thousand Saints on their side… against only three on the other.
Sui Yi clenched her fists tightly as the image of Lei Chen surfaced in her mind. The young man who seemed to be the leader of the trio had not only defended against every one of their attacks flawlessly, but had also counterattacked with frightening precision. Throughout the battle, they had not even been able to touch his clothes. No matter what type or pattern of assault they attempted, Lei Chen evaded them all, as if he already knew what they would do before they did it.
And the other two were no less troublesome. She was convinced the two of them possessed extremely high-grade special physiques, because the disparity in combat power was so clear it could be seen with the naked eye especially when compared to the Golden Crow Dynasty's soldiers.
Sui Yi gritted her teeth. Never before had she been so thoroughly defeated, so powerless. Even though their strength had been suppressed, and their special physiques unusable, that still wasn't an excuse. Not for this kind of loss.
At the same time, across every corner of the secret realm, Han Ming's disciples scattered throughout the various regions began to move according to his command. All of them were now heading toward the center of the realm at full speed.
Meanwhile, in the Ice Valley, above a field blanketed in frost and snow, the air was thick with the scent of death. Suspended midair was a man in black robes. His face hidden deep beneath his hood, not even a hint of his features could be seen clearly. He wore a long cloak of pitch black, void of any emblem or insignia, revealing no affiliation to any sect or faction. Most importantly, not a single trace of life essence emanated from him. It was as if this body that moved was nothing more than a shell without soul, without will, without life.
The man in black descended silently and began inscribing a massive formation. Lines of black-purple light traced the sky in an intricate weave of overlapping patterns. As he accelerated his movements, a faint warmth began to radiate through the air, emanating from the growing array.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from not far away.
"Hand over half your valuables, and the Ten Thousand Seas Trading Pavilion will guarantee your safe exit from this tomb!"
The voice came from a young man with sharp features, dressed in the distinctive robes of a member of the Ten Thousand Seas Trading Pavilion from the Upper Realm. He hovered arrogantly in the air, gazing down as if sizing up prey.
When the man in black gave no response, instead releasing a faint aura, the member of the trading pavilion immediately grew wary and adopted a guarded stance, ready to strike at any moment.
"An Immortal Puppet…"
He didn't even get to finish his sentence before a jet-black fist pierced straight through his chest at point-blank range, blood spraying into the sky in a crimson arc.
His eyes widened in disbelief as his final breath left him, unable to mount any resistance at all.
The man in black tossed the corpse directly into the center of the formation. The body crashed onto the core of the array, and a pillar of red light shot up into the heavens like a signal. A message was transmitted instantly to a certain man.
"Master… the northern formation has been completed."
At the heart of the hidden tomb, Han Ming stood upon an enormous field of spirit herbs, constructing a formation alongside Duan Lingchen. The crimson array glowed and pulsed as if alive.
As the signal from the Immortal Puppet arrived, a smile curled across Han Ming's lips.
"All forty of my Immortal Puppets have completed the formation across the key points of the tomb... Now, all that remains is to enhance the cultivation of the beasts within the hidden tomb to reach the Half-Emperor level, so they can begin hunting everyone within the secret realm. That way, we can harvest the blood and souls of the majority to nourish you, allowing your power to recover enough to sustain your existence for another year."
Han Ming turned to look at the old man standing at the center of the formation before he asked,
"Are you ready... Hero?"
Duan Lingchen closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. When he opened them again to meet Han Ming's gaze, he let out a heavy sigh and replied,
"Let us begin."
Han Ming gave a faint smile and slowly closed his eyes. In that instant, an aura of radiant light erupted from his body like a solar flare detonating in the heart of the dimension. The immense energy clashed with the structure of Duan Lingchen's hidden realm, causing cracks to form and spread across the sky.
Inside Duan Lingchen's private realm, chaos surged, yet outside in the vast Hidden Tomb with its varied terrain and landscapes, not a ripple of energy or tremor could be felt. Everything remained eerily still… terrifyingly quiet…
…until Han Ming opened his eyes once more and flicked his hand lightly.
In that very moment, a mist-like substance began to descend from the gray skies of the Hidden Tomb. To the naked eye, it looked like pure white snow drifting down.
The spirit beasts still lingering in the tomb wounded and weakened from pursuit or battle began to tremble the moment that snowfall touched their bodies, as if they had fallen into a trance of death. Then, in the blink of an eye, their eyes turned a blazing crimson.
Roars erupted across the entire forest, and killing intent surged from every direction. The cultivation levels of all the beasts skyrocketed to the Half-Emperor realm simultaneously without undergoing any natural cultivation process.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The thunderous booms of energy bursting forth from the beasts echoed throughout the entire Hidden Tomb. Their bodies began to grow in size, their forms shifting dramatically and grotesquely.
In the skies above, a massive white demon bird beat its wings and soared over the forest. In a mere instant, the wind pressure from its flight flattened the entire swath of trees below and swept away the humans beneath them. Flesh and limbs were flung across the sky, accompanied by the ever-thickening stench of blood in the air.
Elsewhere in the forest, a towering cursed tree impaled humans with ruthless precision. Its roots stretched for miles, stabbing through the bodies of countless cultivators. Screams rang out endlessly, echoing through the valley without pause, as another wave of brutal combat began to unfold.
Corpses of both humans and spirit beasts littered the ground, blood soaking into the soil in an unending stream. The clash of battle still roared on without respite.
But amidst the chaos, there was something no one seemed to notice... The blood, the severed flesh, the shattered bones, and even the spiritual energy of the fallen were slowly and silently being broken down. Most failed to realize what was happening, too consumed in their own battles whether against beasts or against each other.
Yet a few began to sense that something was wrong. Those who still retained clarity of mind and were not blinded by greed started to question what was going on. Some fell silent, others grew fearful, and a few groups even began considering retreating from the Hidden Tomb altogether.
But now they were beginning to realize... where was the exit?
In that instant, across the entire Hidden Tomb, the massive number of corpses began to be silently absorbed. The life force of the dead started to drift along invisible currents of light, being pulled toward specific points across the tomb toward the blood-red formations etched into the earth by Han Ming's Immortal Puppets.
At the end of these streams of stolen energy, Han Ming's Immortal Puppets stood at each designated point, guarding and maintaining the sealing formations. All of the harvested power was now rushing toward the heart of the Hidden Tomb, where it was being used to nourish Duan Lingchen.