The black sea ford by heavy black mist churn like boiling water. Roaring sea waves crashing against the chasm cliff walls and then recoil back, colliding heavily with new mist waves furiously, emitting high mist tides like giant black sword stabbing ascend, throwing high sprays into the high sky, gradually but quickly covered the sunlight with thicker and thicker mist sprays rising high in the sky like nurous giant, towering black swords.
The mist seed to be ford by unknown but extrely heavy fine dusts. A few mont later, the towering swords of black mist ford by the black mist shuddered faintly, then began collapsing inch by inch toward the abyss's depths. One by one, the collapsing pieces of giant sword slamd the below mist sea surface, send the mist sea roiling and spitting in a frenzied dance. From far beneath, low, guttural roars echoed—distant, primal, thrashing in desperate fury, as if so unknown fierce beasts were struggling hysterically.
Lordi Payne barely had ti to tilt his ear before Oen Shinae's cold grip clamped his arm like a vice. "Move!" she commanded, yanking him into the abyss. Fang Jit and Sharky Ink leaped after, four shadows plunging into the dark. Like tiny pebbles tossed into a stormy sea, their fall carved a fleeting whirlpool in the surging black mist. Shredded Dao Fulu papers spiraled briefly within, their dim glow snuffed out as the mist sea devoured them whole, leaving no trace.
----
anwhile. Within the inner sect, at the heart of the Wraithbone Bloodline's domain, Miu Tyanh opened his eyes. A ripple of intuition tugged at him mid-cultivation. He rose from his ditative stance in the sealed chamber, waving the chamber door open.
Outside, on a malachite and gilt bronze table, a piece of blank Dao Fulu floated in the mid air, smoldering. As errie green flas licked its edges, tiny words bled onto the surface in stark red on its previously blank surface. "Kinson Wexford aims to seize the Ice Pith Fire for Lordi Payne. Oen Shinae leads. Just entered Gworm Abyss."
"Ice Pith Fire?" Miu Tyanh's brow creased, voice a murmur. "That Dao Fla the Middle Five Bloodline Lords claid as theirs prize?"
The Ice Pith Fire was well-known within the inner sect. It was a spiritual fla born of the earth's cold energy condensing to a certain degree, a rare gift of heaven and earth. To most, its value lay more in function of marrow-purify than in Elixir Alchemy.
After all, the alchemy skill required talent, but who among cultivators would refuse the chance to refine and purify their marrow basent and forge a stronger fundantal?
When this bosom of Ice Pith Fire birthed, the inner sect had been ignited fierce competition spark, both overt and covert. Ultimately, a Bloodline Lord from the Middle Five Bloodlines erged victorious, reserving it for a close kin relative.
Kinson Wexford had bowed out the Dao Fla competition from the start. After all, there's no alchemist in Deathveil Bloodline, and Kinson Wexford himself had no kin who's talent in alchemy to favor.
Yet now, Kinson Wexford was willing to offend the Middle Five Bloodlines for Lordi Payne?
Miu Tyanh, vengeance simring in his veins, couldn't hide his bafflent.
After a mont of contemplation, he summoned a subordinate. "What's been happening with the Upper Three Bloodlines lately? Have they shown any interest in the birth of Ice Pith Fire?"
The subordinate shook his head. "Reply to your honor. The senior brothers and sisters of the Upper Three Bloodlines have been acting as usual recently."
Miu Tyanh pressed, unconvinced. "Did Kinson Wexford go to them for help recently?"
Seeing his subordinate shake his head again, Miu Tyanh fell into a brief silence.
Fairy Lith, her highness, was in seclusion, and there were no signs of the Upper Three Bloodlines intervening. Did that an Kinson Wexford was acting on his own, risking the wrath of the Middle Five Bloodlines to seize the Ice Pith Fire?
But why?
Of course, it could be a trap.
But that seed unlikely—Kinson Wexford didn't know Miu Tyanh had eyes in his bloodline.
While Miu Tyanh wavered in indecision.
"Bloodline Lord!" A disciple arrived with a report. "Kinson Wexford is at the gate. He demands a duel."
"Hmm?" Miu Tyanh froze mid-stride. A cold sneer twisted his lips. "Tell that sorry hound, I'm at a critical point in my cultivation. I'll spare his life today and let him crawl off! Once I erge from my seclusion, I'll raze his Withered Orchid Villa to the ground!"
With that, he instructed his subordinate, eyes glinting like exposed daggers. "I'm heading to the Gworm Abyss to see if I can take Lordi Payne's head as an offering for Toanh. You wait here. If I don't return after half a day, explain the whole story to the Chou Clan and ask them to inform Successor Chou. Ensure Her Highness hears every detail."
----
As Miu Tyanh set off toward the Gworm Abyss, Lordi Payne was struggling on the brink of death.
Cold.
So damn cold!
That was Lordi Payne's only sensation after entering the black fog. The black mist swallowed him whole, a bone-deep freeze sinking into his spine. His stomach lurched upward, as if all guts have beco untethered, floating sowhere behind his ribs. The wind scread past his ears, a deafening rush that drowns out all thought. His limbs flail instinctively, grasping at nothing, but the air offered no purchase—only the cruel, unrelenting pull of gravity.
As his accelerate, the wind beca a wall, pressing against his body like an invisible hand trying to crush it. Breathing was impossible—his lungs refuse to expand, the mouth gasping uselessly. His skin burns from the friction, yet the cold bite of high-altitude wind peeling away warmth.
Life's flashing before Lordi Payne's eyes. A mory surfaced—Joanie's laugh aboard the Bone Tomb Vessel, Willow's fingers brushing his lips as black mist just like this coiled between them. He recalled the first ti he t Joanie and Willow. Back then, aboard the Bone Tomb Vessel, black mist had also risen, coiling into chilly pillars. Could the origin of Fairy Lith's Dao Vessel be tied to this abyss?
However, the black mist on the Bone Tomb Vessel had lasted only a fleeting mont, yet it had left both Lordi Payne and Hugo Payne in a sorry state.
Now, this chasm abyss seed bottomless. Lordi Payne had no idea how long he'd been falling, only that his entire body felt nearly frozen stiff into an ice block. If Oen Shinae hadn't noticed sothing was wrong with this junior brother and sent a thread of spiritual energy through her grip to protect Lordi Payne's heart and dantian ridian in ti, he would've lost consciousness entirely.
After what felt like an eternity, as he teetered on the edge of death, he saw faint flare glowing from the waists of Oen Shinae, Fang Jit, and Sharky Ink. Then an invisible suction force yanked them sideways, dragging all four into a crevice in the abyss wall.
Lordi Payne hit stone, vomiting bile as the world spun. He climbed dizzily to his feet from the ground, only to catch Fang Jit casting him an unmasked look of disdain.
"Senior Sister." Fang Jit sneered, tone cold, "Who's going to drag this deadweight along later? Otherwise, in the Lurewoven Grove up ahead, he's definitely not making it out alive."
Oen Shinae frowned. Her silence weighed more than the abyss. The original plan had been to let Fang Jit, who was skilled in both dicine and poison, take charge of Lordi Payne for safety.
But with Fang Jit's current attitude...
Though she was the strongest among them and the senior sister, capable of forcing Fang Jit to obey, and Fang wouldn't dare defy her outright. However she'd already reprimanded him once inside the Transport Phantom's belly. Pressing him further might lead to subtle defiance. After so thought, Oen Shinae decided, "Junior Brother Payne, you'll stick with Sharky Ink later."
Lordi Payne bowed his head. "Aye!"
Lordi Payne's breath crystallized in the air as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The cave wasn't just cold—it was alive with malice.
The walls pulsed like rotten flesh, jagged stone teeth glistening with frozen mucus. The stalactites weren't re formations—they were dripping, their needle-pointed tips oozing black fluid that sizzled where it struck the uneven floor. Every surface bore a hideous ri of frost.
And then there were the things moving in the dark.
They skittered with impossible speed, their many-legged shadows flitting across the weeping stone. Not insects. Not rats. Twitching, malford creatures with too many joints, their shells clicking like broken fingernails on bone.
Watching this, Lordi Payne sighed inwardly. Had he known this journey would be so perilous, he never would've listened to Kinson Wexford's urging to "cultivate-hard"!
But things had co to this, so he could only grit his teeth and clasp his fists toward Sharky Ink. "Senior Brother Sharky, please look after later."
Sharky Ink's plain, sturdy face barely shifted. He rely nodded slightly in response.
Thus, Oen Shinae took the lead, Sharky Ink brought up the rear, and Fang Jit and Lordi Payne stayed in the middle as the four ventured deeper into the cave.
With three Foundation Stage cultivators as escorts—Oen Shinae even being at mid-Phased Foundation Stage—the trek was smooth. Any minor hiccups were dealt with by those ahead or behind before Lordi Payne could even notice.
But after walking for a while, Oen Shinae suddenly stopped, her voice low and cautious. "Up ahead is the Lurewoven Grove. Everyone, be careful!"
"Junior Brother Payne, the Lurewoven Grove can trap cultivators in dreamscape, causing them to lose themselves," Sharky Ink, who'd been silent until now, spoke in a quiet rumble. "You must bear in mind. Once in, no matter what you see, ignore it. Never leave the squad!"
With that, he pulled out a wooden stick from sowhere and and motioned Lordi Payne to grab it, "Grab this. Hold tight till we're through."
Lordi Payne didn't need to be told twice. He gripped one end of the wooden stick firmly and said solemnly, "Senior Brother, don't worry. I won't let go."
The deeper they ventured, the more the cavern revealed its grotesque majesty. As they pressed forward, Lordi Payne's breath caught in his throat. From the vaulted ceiling of the cave lood an incomprehensible spectacle: countless blood-red vines, thick and sinuous, writhed like a legion of gore-drenched anacondas. Their coiled forms twisted and stretched, each tendril glistening with a spectral, halo-like luminescence that pulsed faintly, as though alive with malevolent intent. They cascaded downward in a torrent—a magnificent, horrifying waterfall of crimson that dominated the cavern with its grotesque splendor.
Yet, as Lordi Payne's eyes lingered, he realized the vines weren't wholly corporeal. They shimred like mirages, their forms wavering between reality and illusion, radiating a hypnotic, otherworldly haze that clawed at the edges of his sanity.
A single glance was enough. A wave of dizzle crashed over him, his mind teetering on the brink of collapse. He tore his gaze away, heart pounding, and fixed his eyes on the ground—only to freeze, a scream clawing up his throat. The rough wooden stick clutched in his trembling hand was gone.
In its place, without sound or warning, was a girl's hand—soft, smooth, slender, impossibly delicate. Her pale skin glead with a milkwhite sheen, the fingers long and graceful.
Lordi Payne's breath hitched as he traced the hand upward. His eyes climbed to a wrist so fine it seed carved from moonlight, then along an arm draped in flowing white, luminous woven from the night sky. Her features were sculpted from the purest jade, flawless and radiant, with eyes that shimred like twin moons. Her lips, a soft curve of rose, parted slightly, exuding a grace so ethereal it bordered on the divine.
Lordi Payne recognized her—Fairy Lith.
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