246: Chapter 245 Save me... Fellow Daoist Su, save me!

"Stuck?!"

Su Hongling's arm muscles bulged, and the golden power of blood and Qi surged through her Meridians.

She tried to pull the great sword [no edge] out of the Ink Tiger's skull, but found that the seemingly soft ink now produced an astonishing suction force.

Not only that, the black ink spread rapidly along the blade like a living thing, even beginning to corrode the golden spiritual light flowing on the sword.

The Ink Tiger whose head had been split open did not die; it let out a low growl. The sound did not come from a throat, but sounded more like the friction of a brush tip being drawn heavily across a rough paper surface.

Its originally shattered head squirmed rapidly, and as the ink flowed, it actually recombined in the blink of an eye.

Moreover, the ink on both sides of its body, like ink stains spreading out, stretched rapidly, actually manifesting two more hideous tiger heads.

A three-headed Ink Tiger!

"This thing can even transform?!"

Su Hongling's eyes widened, and instead of being angry, she laughed, "Fine, it seems it's not enough for this old lady to hack! Since I can't pull it out, I'll smash you to pieces along with it!"

She simply stopped pulling the sword, gripped the hilt, used the great sword as a pivot, and flipped her body into the air, delivering a powerful whip kick to the Ink Tiger's abdomen.

"Slap!"

Although Su Hongling's kick distorted the Ink Tiger's form and sent ink splashing, the feeling of impact was extremely poor.

The Ink Tiger's body seemed to have no bones; after caving in, it quickly bounced back, and instead, a cold ink Qi tried to burrow up through her leg Meridians.

"Hiss... this feeling is really disgusting!" Su Hongling used the force to spring away, shook her leg, and looked disgusted.

"Don't use brute force!"

Su Lin stood behind, calmly observing the changes in the surroundings.

"The rule here is a painting.

In the world of a painting, physical destruction is limited.

If you cut water, it still flows; if you scatter ink, it still gathers."

"Then what should we do? Should we use fire to burn it?"

Luo Ximei stood to the side, a cluster of black and white Demonic Fire already ignited at her fingertips.

"You can try, but don't hold too much hope."

Su Lin said indifferently, "This place rejects external colors and Laws.

Your Demonic Fire is too vivid; it will become the target of all attacks in this world."

Sure enough, as soon as the Demonic Fire in Luo Ximei's hand appeared, the surrounding stationary Inky Forest instantly became restless.

The trees, outlined by thick brushstrokes, swayed their branches and leaves wildly, and countless sharp Ink Leaves fell off like flying knives, sweeping toward Luo Ximei in an overwhelming manner.

"Hmph, mere child's play!"

Luo Ximei snorted coldly, the Demonic Fire in her hand surging, turning into a wall of fire.

However, the moment those Ink Leaves touched the Demonic Fire, they weren't burned to ashes, but instead made a sizzling sound and turned into plumes of black smoke.

This black smoke did not dissipate, but instead merged into the surrounding air, making the oppressive feeling in this space even heavier.

"This smoke... is poisonous!"

Chu Weiwei keenly smelled the change in the air, her face changing slightly, "It's not a conventional toxin, it's... Ink Poison! It can contaminate spiritual power!"

"Withdraw your Divine Ability."

Su Lin waved his large sleeve, and an invisible ripple undulated out, temporarily forcing back the approaching black smoke.

"Here, will is greater than form."

Su Lin looked at the three-headed Ink Tiger still entangled with Su Hongling and said solemnly:

"Hong Ling, don't hack at it like it's a Yao Beast. Treat it as a mass of intent.

If your Sword Intent can suppress the painter's brush intent, it will naturally dissipate."

"Intent? That's too profound, Old Man!" Su Hongling shouted while dodging the tiger's claw strikes, "Can you say something I can understand?"

"It means don't just use stupid strength! Use your spirit to lock onto it, to dismantle its sense of existence!"

Su Lin shook his head helplessly, then turned to look behind him.

There, the mist was churning.

The various Cultivators who had been following them previously had finally broken through the first trial one after another and stepped into this black and white world.

However, compared to Su Lin's side's composure, they appeared extremely wretched.

Rushing at the very front was Heavenly Calculation Granny, holding a compass.

She was now covered in sweat, and the compass needle in her hand was spinning wildly; clearly, the chaotic Laws here had greatly compromised her art of deduction.

Behind her was the Sword Cultivator youth named Mo Chen; his face was pale, and the sword in his hand was still trembling slightly, evidently having just gone through a bitter battle.

Further back were a scattered few dozen Body Integration Stage experts.

"What... what kind of ghostly place is this?!"

A Body Integration Stage Loose Cultivator who had just stepped into the painting world couldn't help but cry out in alarm as he looked at the eerie world of only black and white before him.

As soon as his voice fell, the inky ground beneath his feet suddenly softened, like a large mouth, instantly swallowing half of his calf.

"Ah! Save me!"

He tried to pull his leg out in terror, but found that the ink was like super glue; the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

"Don't move!" Heavenly Calculation Granny shouted sharply, "Every inch of land here is painted; there is no sense of reality! Moving blindly will only turn you into a stone in the painting!"

The Loose Cultivator was so scared he didn't dare move again, desperately circulating his spiritual power for protection, barely stopping the downward trend.

Chen Zhou, a Peak Body Integration Confucian Cultivator, with a dark face, scanned the surroundings, his gaze finally landing on Su Lin's group in the distance.

Seeing Su Hongling suppressing that giant Ink Tiger and beating it up, the corners of his eyes couldn't help but twitch.

"These lunatics..."

He cursed in a low voice, but his steps were honest and he did not approach; instead, he led his people to bypass them from afar, trying to find another way.

"Revered Master, they are here," Cold Moon reminded in a low voice, the Imperial Golden Light in her hand faintly flickering.

"No matter, the more people, the merrier."

Su Lin didn't care.

The interior of the Ancient Landscape Painting was vast and boundless, filled with hidden dangers; having a few more people to scout the way was also a good thing.

At this time, Su Hongling finally had an epiphany.

She no longer simply hacked with her great sword, but closed her eyes, pouring her indomitable martial will into the blade.

"Scant... for this old lady!!!"

Accompanied by a violent shout, the great sword swept out.

The seemingly ferocious three-headed Ink Tiger froze. Its body began to show layers of separation, like a painting being cut in half at the waist.

"Crash."

The Ink Tiger disintegrated, turning back into a pool of thick ink that spilled onto the ground, silent once more.

"Ha! It worked!"

Su Hongling opened her eyes excitedly and waved the great sword in her hand triumphantly.

"The Old Man was right, this thing is just for show; as long as the will is firm enough, it's just a piece of paper!"

"Don't be happy too soon."

Su Lin stepped forward, his gaze cast toward the towering inky mountain Peak in the distance.

"This is just a small gatekeeping mob. The real test is ahead."

The group continued forward.

The deeper they went, the more bizarre the surroundings became.

Sometimes, Ink Rain would fall from the sky, each drop weighing a thousand pounds; sometimes, the flowers and grass by the road would suddenly turn into sharp swords, stabbing at passersby; sometimes, even the road beneath their feet would suddenly break, becoming a bottomless abyss.

This painting was alive.

It was constantly changing, trying to assimilate and obliterate the intruders.

And behind them, the Cultivators who followed were not so lucky.

Screams rose one after another.

Some Cultivators, as they walked, their bodies suddenly became flat, finally turning into paper figures pasted on tree trunks, their faces still maintaining expressions of terror, their features distorted and eerie.

Some Cultivators were hit by the Ink Rain, their bodies rapidly turning black, finally turning into a pool of ink that merged into this world.

This way of dying was silent, yet hair-raising.

"This place is too sinister..."

Although Luo Ximei was powerful, looking at those bizarre ways of dying, she couldn't help but feel a bit creeped out.

"Revered Master, how much longer do we have to walk?"

"Soon."

Su Lin pointed ahead.

There, a wide great river spanned between heaven and earth.

The river water was pitch black as ink, flowing incessantly and letting out a rumbling roar.

And on the river surface, there was only a lonely single-log bridge.

The bridge was extremely narrow, only allowing one person to pass, and it looked precarious, as if it would break at any moment.

"Ink River."

Su Lin stopped by the river, looking at the churning black water.

"Cross this river, and we can reach the core of the painting."

"This river water... has a problem."

Chu Weiwei squatted down, took a silver needle from her sleeve, and carefully poked it into the river water.

"Sizzle!"

As soon as the silver needle entered the water, it was instantly corroded until not even dregs remained.

Chu Weiwei's face turned pale: "The corrosiveness of this water is a hundred times stronger than my Bone-Corroding Water! And... it can even corrode Divine Sense!"

"Can't we fly across?" Ye You looked up at the sky.

"You can try," Su Lin said indifferently, "but the sky above this river is filled with Restrictions; the gravity is a thousand times that of the ground, and there are countless sharp blades formed by Feibai; once you take flight, you'll be a sitting duck."

"Then what should we do?"

Su Hongling looked at the single-log bridge that was as thin as a noodle, then looked at the churning ink below, and for once, she shrank her neck.

"This bridge doesn't look sturdy; if I step on it, I'm afraid I'll snap it with one foot."

"If it snaps, we're all finished together."

Luo Ximei sneered, "This bridge is the only path; once it's broken, unless you can paint and draw a bridge yourself."

While the Revered Master and disciples were still observing by the river, the group of surviving Cultivators from behind finally arrived.

Although many people were lost on the way, those who could reach here were all tough characters with life-saving trump cards.

At the head was a burly man wrapped in heavy golden armor.

He was the Grand Elder of the Vajra Sect, Daoist title Iron Wall Elder, whose external hard-body kung fu had long reached the Late Stage of Body Integration, known for matchless defense, remaining unscathed even when resisting Flying Swords of the same rank.

"Why has everyone stopped?"

Iron Wall Elder said in a booming voice, his voice shaking the leaves of the nearby ink trees until they fell.

He strode to the riverbank and glanced contemptuously at Su Lin and the others standing still.

"Hmph, a bunch of sissies, dallying over crossing a river."

He glanced at the single-log bridge, then at the churning Ink River, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes.

"Isn't it just a black water river? What's there to be afraid of?"

"Although this bridge is a bit narrow, as long as the lower body is stable enough, can't we just rush across in one breath?"

"You can try."

Su Lin stepped aside, making a path for him, with that signature, harmless smile on his face.

"Please."

"I'll try then! With this Old Man's copper skin and iron bones, impervious to water and fire, would I be afraid of this mere black water?"

Iron Wall Elder snorted coldly, and golden light erupted from his entire body.

"Indestructible Vajra Body! Open!"

A layer of golden light shield three inches thick wrapped him tightly, plus his heavy armor of top-grade Spiritual Artifact rank; at this moment, he was like a moving golden mountain.

"Watch closely! This Old Man will set an example for you!"

He laughed loudly, took a large stride, and directly stepped onto the precarious single-log bridge.

The single-log bridge bent downwards in an arc, but ultimately did not break.

"Hahaha! Very stable!"

Iron Wall Elder felt greatly reassured, and with wind at his feet, he was about to speed across.

Just as he reached the middle of the bridge.

The Ink River, which had only been churning under the bridge, suddenly surged with a wave.

The wave wasn't large, just enough to hit the single-log bridge, splashing a few drops of black ink.

As luck would have it, one drop of ink happened to land on Iron Wall Elder's protective golden light.

That layer of golden light shield, in front of that single drop of ink, was actually like paper, instantly burned through with a hole!

The heavy armor of top-grade Spiritual Artifact rank was instantly stained pitch black, then it seemed to turn into liquid, starting to melt and flow.

"What?!"

Iron Wall Elder turned pale with fright, instinctively wanting to circulate his spiritual power to shake off this drop of ink.

But this was exactly the beginning of the nightmare.

That drop of ink seemed to have a life of its own; the moment it touched spiritual power, its volume expanded ten times, and it drilled directly into his skin!

The crowd on the shore clearly saw that hair-raising scene.

They saw Iron Wall Elder's right leg, which had been stained by the ink, suddenly become flat.

His leg lost its thickness, becoming a thin piece of paper, tightly pasted onto the single-log bridge.

The texture of the skin, the lines of the muscles, even the leg hair, all turned into black lines and ink blocks.

"My leg! What happened to my leg?!!"

Iron Wall Elder tried in terror to pull his leg out, but the more force he used, the faster that ink-transformation spread.

The ink marks climbed rapidly up his thigh.

Waist, chest, both arms.

That strong body he was so proud of was like being smeared in the void by an invisible giant brush.

Wherever it passed, flesh and blood disappeared, leaving only a two-dimensional black and white pattern.

"Save me... Fellow Daoist Su, save me!!"

He looked desperately at Su Lin on the shore, reaching out his left hand that hadn't yet completely turned into ink, the veins on that hand bulging.

But in the next second.

A breeze blew by.

That hand also drifted with the wind, like a piece of Xuan paper blown by the wind.

"No... No...!!"

Finally, the ink marks spread to his head.

His wide-open mouth, before it could shout the last cry, was fixed in an expression of terror.

He just stayed there, pasted in the void, turning into a human-shaped ink wash painting hanging on the single-log bridge.

The wind blew.

"Rustle..."

That painting made the sound of paper shaking.

Then, this human-skin painting scroll slowly drifted down, falling into the Ink River below.