145: Don't break it! It needs to be alive!

The Spirit Boat hovered deep within the rift valley. The massive palace gates were like the eyelids of a sleeping behemoth, tightly shut and exuding a suffocating, deathly silence.

Between the cracks of the gates, thick green vines slowly writhed. Their skin secreted a viscous liquid that dripped into the black seawater, making a 'sizzling' corrosive sound.

"Do it!"

Scholar Zhang barked softly. He snapped his folding fan shut and pointed it toward the formation eye at the center of the gates.

Five streaks of spiritual light struck the runes simultaneously.

Rumble—

A dull mechanical sound echoed through the deep sea, shaking the surrounding waters relentlessly.

The bronze gates, which had been sealed for untold ages, cracked open a sliver.

Whoosh—

A thick, almost physical surge of green mist, accompanied by a mesmerizing fragrance, gushed out from the gap, instantly swallowing the several people at the entrance.

"Treasure Qi! It's the Treasure Qi of a thousand-year-old Spirit Medicine!"

Old Mo shrieked. His wrinkled face, resembling a withered chrysanthemum, twisted with extreme greed. He tapped his walking stick and shot into the mist like an arrow from a bow.

Iron Pagoda followed closely behind. His burly frame shattered the surging air currents as a beast-like low growl escaped his throat.

Liu Ruyan said nothing, merely stepping forward mechanically to follow them.

Only Han Yi remained.

The moment the gates opened, he retreated thirty feet and pressed himself against the cold rock wall.

The Soul-Settling Wood Plaque at his waist was now terrifyingly hot, like a red-hot branding iron, frantically searing his skin.

Something was wrong.

This fragrance was too sweet—sickeningly sweet—exactly like the cheap cosmetics used to mask the stench of rotting corpses.

"Fellow Daoist Han?"

Scholar Zhang's voice drifted from the mist, sounding somewhat concerned yet carrying a trace of imperceptible mockery. "The Opportunity is right before us. Why do you hesitate?"

Han Yi did not answer.

He stared intently at the rolling green mist.

There was no sound of fighting.

No exclamations of seizing treasures.

There was only a deathly silence and the rustling sound of clothes rubbing together.

"Old Mo?"

Han Yi called out tentatively.

No one responded.

A corner of the green mist slowly dissipated.

The sight before him caused Han Yi's blood to freeze instantly.

Old Mo and Iron Pagoda were not searching for treasures.

They were kneeling side-by-side on the ground, their bodies as stiff as stone statues. Their eyes were rolled back, leaving only the whites to stare fixedly forward.

And in the direction they were bowing...

Scholar Zhang stood with his hands behind his back.

The folding fan in his hand was gone. In its place was a small triangular banner, black as ink and emitting a pungent stench of corpses.

On the banner's surface, countless vengeful spirits and malicious ghosts shrieked. Black Qi swirled around him, making him look like a demon crawled out from Hell.

"Foundation Establishment Stage..."

Han Yi's throat felt dry as he squeezed these words through his teeth.

At this moment, Scholar Zhang didn't have the slightest trace of a Qi Refining Stage aura.

That frigid pressure belonging to a Foundation Establishment Cultivator was released without reservation, pushing the surrounding seawater outward.

"Fellow Daoist Han is indeed vigilant."

Scholar Zhang gently shook the Corpse-Control Banner in his hand. The banner's bells emitted a crisp, pleasant sound that was nevertheless dizzying to the Divine Soul. "Pity. As long as one inhales even a single breath of this 'Corpse-Fragrance Konjac' miasma, even an immortal would be beyond saving."

He turned his head, his gaze bypassing the kneeling Old Mo and Iron Pagoda to land on Han Yi.

His gaze was no longer gentle and refined as before, but nakedly greedy and cruel, as if he were inspecting a pig or dog waiting to be slaughtered.

"You must have worked very hard to act along this whole way, haven't you?"

Scholar Zhang extended a finger and hooked it gently.

Liu Ruyan, who had been standing in the shadows, slowly walked out.

She still wore that cold expression, but her almond eyes were now empty, devoid of any focus.

She walked to Scholar Zhang's side and knelt obediently, like a submissive dog.

Han Yi's heart spasmed violently.

Despite having a premonition, seeing this scene with his own eyes—the pain of betrayal intertwined with despair—still made his breath hitch.

"Since when?"

Han Yi gripped a Golden Blade Talisman.

"As early as half a month ago."

Scholar Zhang reached out to stroke Liu Ruyan's hair, his movements as gentle as if he were caressing a piece of fine porcelain. "This girl has a special Physique; she is most suited to become this master's 'Erotic Corpse.' As for those two fools, they were merely cannon fodder used to scout the path."

He paused, a malicious smile appearing on his face.

"And you, Fellow Daoist Han."

"You are the only living person left."

"I heard that the master of this Green Vine Water Mansion set a Restriction: the inner palace cannot be opened without a living blood sacrifice. This master was originally worried about where to find a sacrifice with vigorous blood and Qi, but I didn't expect you to deliver yourself to my door."

The daggers were drawn.

This game had been a death trap from the very beginning.

The so-called Opportunity was nothing more than fragrant bait used to lure prey.

"Go, take him down."

Scholar Zhang pointed with the black banner.

Roar!

Iron Pagoda, who was kneeling on the ground, suddenly sprang up. His muscles swelled, his skin instantly turned a greenish-black, and his fingernails grew three inches long. Like a humanoid Vicious Beast, he lunged at Han Yi, accompanied by a foul wind.

Old Mo, meanwhile, waved his walking stick with a sinister laugh. Several earth spikes erupted from the rocks beneath Han Yi's feet, sealing off his path of retreat.

There was no way to dodge.

That cloud of poisonous green miasma, under Scholar Zhang's control, also swirled toward Han Yi like a maggot on a bone.

"Die."

Scholar Zhang watched this scene indifferently.

A Loose Cultivator at the ninth level of Qi Refining had absolutely no chance of survival under the schemes of a Foundation Establishment Cultivator.

However.

The moment that green mist touched Han Yi's body.

Buzz.

A layer of faint green light emerged from the surface of Han Yi's skin without warning.

The Corpse-Fragrance Konjac poison gas, which was enough to knock out a Foundation Establishment Cultivator, seemed to encounter its natural enemy upon contact with this green light. It made a 'sizzling' sound and automatically parted to both sides.

Immune to all poisons.

Han Yi stood in the center of the poisonous mist, his expression terrifyingly calm.

He didn't hold his breath, nor did he consume any detoxifying Medicinal Pills.

His body was like a living spiritual tree, greedily devouring and converting the surrounding Wood-attribute poisonous Qi.

"This... this is?!"

The indifference on Scholar Zhang's face instantly collapsed, replaced by an unbelievable ecstasy.

"Green Wood Spirit Body?! It's actually the legendary Green Wood Spirit Body?!"

He trembled with excitement, nearly losing his grip on the Corpse-Control Banner.

This kind of Physique was one in ten thousand in the Cultivation World.

If used to refine a corpse puppet, it would become the top-tier 'Wood Spirit Corpse King' with infinite potential, even having the hope of advancing to the Purple Mansion!

"The heavens are helping me! The heavens are truly helping me!"

Scholar Zhang burst into a wild laugh, no longer caring about any living blood sacrifice.

Compared to the treasures in the water mansion, this body was the true priceless treasure.

"Don't break him! I want him alive!"

He hurriedly issued a command to Iron Pagoda, fearing that the clumsy corpse puppet would damage this perfect vessel.

Iron Pagoda's movements stiffened slightly. The fist that was originally aimed at Han Yi's head shifted by a few inches and struck toward his shoulder instead.

An Opportunity.

Han Yi had been waiting for this moment.

He had gambled on the other's greed and won this fleeting chance at life.

He didn't meet the punch head-on, nor did he try to break through the encirclement.

Crack.

The Soul-Settling Wood Plaque at his waist shattered completely.

A faint but clear stream of light entered his brow, outlining a path to survival within his Sea of Consciousness.