Morning arrived over Rivercloud City beneath a layer of pale mist.
The two rivers surrounding the city reflected the weak sunlight, while the streets slowly filled with cultivators, merchants, and sect disciples. Compared to the Green Bamboo Sect, Rivercloud City felt rougher.
Louder.
Sharper.
Here, disciples did not walk with the restrained confidence of sect rules behind them.
They walked like blades.
Each person measured the others.
Each glance carried caution.
Inside a small inn room in the eastern district, Fang Lin opened his eyes.
He had spent most of the night cultivating quietly.
The spiritual energy in Rivercloud City was not as pure as the Green Bamboo Sect's cultivation rooms, but Fang Lin did not mind. With the Nether Stone producing cosmic energy after absorbing spirit stones, his body cultivation no longer depended only on the outside environment.
His current strength had changed completely from when he first entered the outer sect.
Late Qi Conjunction Realm.
Nine Nether Phantom Body strengthened by cosmic energy.
Frost Trace Sword Art at initial mastery.
Flowing Wind Steps refined to the point where it flowed naturally with his movements.
Wind Break Palm compressed faster and more quietly than before.
Soul Metamorphosis Technique hidden beneath everything.
Phantom Transformation.
And the variant soul that made his perception terrifying.
Fang Lin slowly clenched his hand.
He understood his current battle power clearly.
Against ordinary Early Spirit Foundation cultivators, he could kill them if he used his strength properly.
Against ordinary Mid Spirit Foundation cultivators from sects, he could battle them easily.
Against Early Spirit Foundation geniuses, he could fight without fear.
And even against Mid Spirit Foundation geniuses, he should be able to hold his ground.
Of course, that was only if he measured them correctly.
The world was large.
There were always hidden monsters.
Fang Lin would never assume himself invincible.
He stood and walked toward the bronze mirror.
The face reflected there was not Fang Lin's.
It was Lin Mo.
Ordinary.
Dull-eyed.
Unremarkable.
His aura sat at Early Qi Conjunction Realm, weak enough that most disciples would ignore him.
That was useful.
After adjusting his appearance slightly, Fang Lin left the inn and headed toward the central square.
The recruitment notice for the Demon Sealing Ruins still hung on the board.
But today, far more cultivators had gathered there.
Disciples from the three ruling sects stood near the notice.
River Sword Sect disciples wore white robes with silver wave patterns.
Crimson Flame Hall disciples wore dark red robes marked with flame symbols.
Black Mountain Gate disciples wore black and brown robes, their bodies broader and heavier than most.
Several wandering cultivators stood nearby, discussing the recruitment.
"Outer region of the Demon Sealing Ruins…"
"That place is not simple."
"They say only Qi Conjunction cultivators are allowed this time."
"Because the outer formation rejects stronger auras."
"Or because the three sects do not want to risk their real elites."
"Lower your voice."
Fang Lin listened quietly.
So the ruins had a restriction.
Qi Conjunction cultivators could enter.
Spirit Foundation cultivators likely could not pass through easily, or at least not without risk.
That explained why the three sects were recruiting outsiders.
They needed bodies.
Pathfinders.
Disposable hands.
Fang Lin's expression did not change.
This was normal.
Outside the Green Bamboo Sect, kindness was rare.
A young man from the River Sword Sect stepped forward and spoke loudly.
"Those willing to join the outer-region exploration of the Demon Sealing Ruins may register here."
"The mission will last three days."
"Each participant receives five low-grade spirit stones upon return."
"Any minor treasure found individually belongs to the finder."
"Major inheritances or restricted items must be reported to the three sects."
The crowd stirred.
Some looked interested.
Others sneered inwardly.
Major inheritances must be reported?
That meant surrendered.
But no one said it aloud.
Fang Lin stepped forward with the others.
A River Sword Sect disciple sat behind a table, recording names.
"Name?"
"Lin Mo."
"Cultivation?"
"Early Qi Conjunction."
The disciple looked up and frowned slightly.
"Early stage?"
Fang Lin lowered his head slightly.
"Yes."
The disciple glanced at the others nearby and waved dismissively.
"Fine. You can carry supplies or scout shallow paths."
He handed Fang Lin a wooden token.
"Do not run once inside. Those who flee before the mission ends will be banned from Rivercloud City."
Fang Lin accepted the token calmly.
"I understand."
The disciple quickly moved to the next person.
To him, Lin Mo was not worth attention.
That suited Fang Lin perfectly.
By noon, the recruitment ended.
Nearly sixty cultivators had gathered.
Some were wandering cultivators.
Some were minor clan disciples.
Some were outer disciples from small sects.
The three ruling sects each sent a group of Qi Conjunction disciples to lead them.
Among them, three people stood out.
From the River Sword Sect, a young swordsman named Qin Yuesheng.
Late Qi Conjunction Realm.
His sword aura was clean and sharp.
From Crimson Flame Hall, a red-robed young woman named Huo Lan.
Peak Qi Conjunction Realm.
Her fire Qi was unstable but powerful.
From Black Mountain Gate, a broad-shouldered youth named Meng Shi.
Late Qi Conjunction Realm.
His body cultivation was clearly stronger than the others.
Fang Lin observed them silently.
In terms of realm, they were strong among Qi Conjunction cultivators.
But compared to the top disciples of Green Bamboo Sect, they were lacking.
Chen Hao would defeat them easily.
Su Wanqing and Jian Wuji would not need to take them seriously.
Still, Fang Lin did not underestimate them.
Every sect had hidden methods.
Every disciple might carry a life-saving card.
The group left Rivercloud City before afternoon.
Their destination was northeast.
The Demon Sealing Ruins.
The journey took several hours.
As they traveled, the land gradually changed.
Green forests became darker.
The soil turned grey.
The spiritual energy in the air grew colder.
Occasionally, Fang Lin saw broken stone pillars half-buried in the ground. Some carried strange carvings of demons, chains, and clouds.
The closer they came to the ruins, the quieter the group became.
Even the arrogant Crimson Flame Hall disciples stopped joking.
By sunset, they arrived.
The Demon Sealing Ruins stretched across a vast broken valley.
Ancient stone walls rose from the ground like the ribs of a dead giant. Collapsed towers stood crooked beneath the dim sky. Black mist drifted between shattered buildings, moving unnaturally slowly.
At the center of the ruins, far in the distance, Fang Lin could vaguely see a dark spire piercing upward.
The moment he saw it, the grey stone inside his spiritual sea pulsed.
Strongly.
Fang Lin's eyes lowered slightly.
There was definitely something here.
Qin Yuesheng stepped forward and raised his hand.
"We enter only the outer region."
His voice was clear.
"No one approaches the central zone."
Huo Lan snorted.
"As if these people could reach it."
Meng Shi looked at the recruited cultivators.
"Stay in groups. Do not touch unknown formations. Do not wander into black mist. If you hear whispers, ignore them."
Several wandering cultivators turned pale.
One asked nervously, "Whispers?"
Meng Shi looked at him.
"If you answer them, you die."
No one asked further.
The entrance to the ruins was a cracked stone gate covered in ancient formation lines.
A faint barrier shimmered across it.
Qin Yuesheng took out a silver token and injected Qi.
Huo Lan and Meng Shi did the same with their own sect tokens.
The barrier trembled.
Then opened a narrow path.
"Enter."
The group moved forward.
The moment Fang Lin passed through the barrier, a cold sensation swept across his body.
It was as if something had glanced at him.
Old.
Dark.
Hungry.
His spiritual sea trembled faintly.
The grey stone pulsed again.
But Fang Lin remained calm.
He followed the group silently.
Inside the ruins, the air felt heavier.
Every sound seemed muffled.
Their footsteps echoed strangely against the broken stone paths.
Not long after entering, they encountered the first danger.
A corpse beast crawled out from beneath a collapsed wall.
Its body looked like a twisted wolf, but its bones pierced through its skin, and black mist leaked from its mouth.
Several recruited cultivators panicked.
Qin Yuesheng drew his sword.
A silver flash crossed the air.
The corpse beast's head fell.
Huo Lan laughed lightly.
"Scared already?"
No one answered.
Fang Lin looked at the corpse beast quietly.
Weak.
Barely comparable to a Middle Qi Conjunction cultivator.
But the black mist inside it was strange.
It carried a faint darkness aura.
Not ordinary demonic Qi.
Something deeper.
The group continued deeper.
For the next two hours, they searched ruined courtyards and collapsed halls.
Most discoveries were minor.
Broken weapons.
Low-grade spirit herbs.
Damaged talismans.
Fragments of old bones.
The three sect disciples collected anything valuable openly.
The recruited cultivators received only scraps.
Fang Lin did not care.
He was not here for ordinary treasures.
He was following the grey stone's reaction.
And the farther they moved, the stronger that reaction became.
Eventually, the group reached a fork in the ruins.
One path led toward a half-collapsed hall where faint spiritual fluctuations could be felt.
The other led into a narrow passage covered in black vines.
Qin Yuesheng looked toward the hall.
"We search there."
Huo Lan nodded.
Meng Shi frowned at the vine-covered passage.
"That path feels wrong."
"Then ignore it," Huo Lan said.
The group turned toward the hall.
Fang Lin followed for a few steps.
Then stopped.
Inside his spiritual sea, the grey stone pulsed.
Not toward the hall.
Toward the black vines.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed slightly.
There.
That was the direction.
He could not leave openly.
Too many eyes.
So he waited.
Inside the half-collapsed hall, the group found a damaged altar.
The moment several disciples approached, a formation suddenly activated.
Black light flashed.
Corpse beasts began crawling out from cracks in the ground.
Chaos erupted.
"Defend!"
"Do not scatter!"
"Kill them!"
The recruited cultivators panicked.
The three sect disciples moved quickly, but the hall became messy instantly.
Fang Lin's eyes remained calm.
This was the chance.
He stepped backward.
Then another step.
A corpse beast lunged toward him.
He pretended to stumble and retreated into the dust.
The moment the dust covered him, Phantom Transformation activated.
His face changed.
His body grew slightly taller.
His aura shifted.
His robes were reversed and darkened using a prepared outer cloak.
In two breaths, Lin Mo vanished.
A different ordinary cultivator appeared.
Fang Lin moved silently through the broken wall.
Flowing Wind Steps carried him away from the battle without sound.
No one noticed.
The chaos continued behind him.
Soon, he arrived before the vine-covered passage.
The black vines twisted faintly, as though alive.
Fang Lin looked back once.
The group's noise was fading.
Then he turned forward.
Frost Wind appeared silently in his hand.
The grey stone pulsed again.
Stronger.
As if urging him onward.
Fang Lin stepped into the passage.
The air immediately became colder.
The black vines moved aside slowly.
Not resisting him.
Welcoming him.
His eyes sharpened.
"Something here recognizes the stone."
The passage descended underground.
Each step took him farther from the recruited group.
Farther from the three sects.
Farther from Rivercloud City.
And closer to whatever had been hidden beneath the Demon Sealing Ruins.
Behind him, the battle in the ruined hall continued.
Qin Yuesheng suddenly looked around.
His brows furrowed.
"Where is that weak early-stage cultivator?"
Huo Lan was busy burning corpse beasts.
"Who?"
"The one named Lin Mo."
Meng Shi glanced around.
"He disappeared?"
Qin Yuesheng's eyes narrowed.
But before he could think further, another corpse beast attacked.
He was forced to turn back.
Deep beneath the ruins, Fang Lin walked alone through the dark passage.
His appearance had changed.
His aura had changed.
His name had changed.
Only his eyes remained calm.
Inside his spiritual sea, the grey stone pulsed like a slow heartbeat.
And from far ahead, in the depths of the darkness, a faint whisper echoed.
Not in words.
But in intent.
Come.
Fang Lin stopped for a moment.
Then continued walking.
The real trial had begun.