The Demon Sealing Ruins had become quieter.
Not peaceful, but Quiet.
There was a difference.
In the outer passages, the surviving recruited cultivators no longer shouted when they found minor treasures. They no longer argued loudly over broken weapons, spirit herbs growing between cracked stones, or old talisman fragments half-buried in dust. They moved carefully now, with lowered voices and restless eyes, because the ruins had already swallowed too many people.
Some had died to corpse beasts. Some had triggered formations. Some had been dragged into black mist after answering whispers they should have ignored. Others had simply disappeared, and no one knew where they had gone.
No one wanted to find out.
Inside a collapsed courtyard covered in grey dust, five wandering cultivators hid behind a broken wall. Their robes were torn, and two of them were injured. One young man clutched a small storage pouch tightly against his chest. His face was pale, but his eyes carried the nervous excitement of someone who had found treasure and only now realized treasure could kill him.
"We should leave this area," he whispered.
A middle-aged cultivator beside him frowned. "The ruins will eject us after three days. Until then, where can we go?"
"Somewhere else. Anywhere else. I found three spirit herbs. If the two sect disciples see them..."
The recruited cultivators only knew about the two sect disciples who were alive now.
He stopped.
The others understood.
When they first entered, they had still believed the recruitment notice. Minor treasures belonged to the finder. Major inheritances had to be reported. But after seeing how the three sect disciples behaved inside the ruins, that belief had already cracked.
Treasures found by outsiders only belonged to outsiders if no sect disciple saw them.
Once seen, there would always be a reason.
This herb was restricted.
This item always belonged to the three sects.
You broke the rules.
You are hiding demonic contamination.
Reasons were easy.
Strength was the truth behind them.
The middle-aged cultivator looked toward the distance. "Lower your voice."
The young man nodded quickly.
At that moment, a faint sound came from above.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps.
The five cultivators froze.
A figure walked across the top of the broken wall and looked down at them. He wore dark red robes, and a flame jade pin tied back his hair. Heat faintly distorted the air around him, but his face carried a soft smile that made the scene even colder.
Yan Chi.
The five cultivators did not recognize his name, but they felt his aura. Even suppressed, the pressure around him clearly belonged to the Spirit Foundation Realm.
A Spirit Foundation cultivator had entered the ruins.
The middle-aged cultivator's face changed instantly. "Senior..."
Yan Chi smiled. "Did you find anything?"
The young man holding the storage pouch trembled and held the pouch tightly. "No... no, Senior."
Yan Chi's gaze moved to the pouch. "Then why are you holding that so tightly?"
The young man's fingers stiffened.
Yan Chi raised one hand.
A thread of flame shot out before anyone could react, severing the young man's arm at the elbow. He screamed, and the storage pouch fell, only for Yan Chi to catch it casually.
The other four cultivators backed away in terror.
The middle-aged cultivator shouted, "Senior! We are recruited cultivators of the three sects! We followed the rules!"
Yan Chi opened the pouch and glanced inside. Three spirit herbs, two low-grade spirit stones, and a broken talisman. Nothing impressive.
His smile faded slightly. "Poor."
The middle-aged cultivator's face became ugly. "What does Senior mean?"
Yan Chi looked at them as if they had personally disappointed him. "You people really entered a ruin and found only this?"
No one dared answer.
Yan Chi lackadaisically sighed. "Useless."
Flames burst outward.
The courtyard turned red, and the screams lasted only a few breaths. When the fire faded, five charred bodies lay among the broken stones. Yan Chi stepped over them without a change in expression. He searched their remains, found nothing else, and clicked his tongue.
"Wasting my time."
Then he turned his head.
Far away, a faint message talisman burned in the air.
Yan Chi's eyes narrowed. He reached out and caught the flame message, and a voice entered his ears.
"Huo Lan is dead."
Yan Chi's smile disappeared and a fiery aura rose from him.
For the first time since entering the ruins, his expression turned cold. Huo Lan was not equal to him. She was only at Peak Qi Conjunction Realm. But she was still a Crimson Flame Hall disciple, and more importantly, she was one of the disciples sent openly by the sect. If she had died normally inside the ruins, that was one matter. If she had been killed by another cultivator, then it is another.
Yan Chi crushed the message flame in his palm. "Who did it?"
Another faint voice came from the remaining sparks.
"Unknown. Underground hall. Many disciples dead. Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi survived but were badly injured. Culprit obtained possible inheritance."
Yan Chi's eyes sharpened.
Possible inheritance.
Those two words mattered far more than Huo Lan's death.
His flame Qi rose, distorting the air around him. "So someone harvested before us."
Then his smile returned.
This time, it carried killing intent.
"Good. Then I only need to find him."
In another part of the ruins, Lu Han stood inside a collapsed sword pavilion. Several corpses lay around him, and they were not corpse beasts. They were recruited cultivators.
A young woman knelt on the ground before him, blood dripping from her lips. A silver sword rested against her throat, steady enough that a single tremble from her would open her skin.
Lu Han looked at her calmly. His white robes carried the silver wave pattern of River Sword Sect, and even with his aura suppressed, the sharpness around him made the air feel thin.
"Who killed the disciples in the underground hall?"
The young woman shook her head desperately. "I do not know! I was not there!"
Lu Han's expression did not change. "Then what do you know?"
"I saw people running from the lower passages. They said... they said someone fought Qin Yuesheng, Huo Lan, and Meng Shi all alone."
Lu Han's eyes moved slightly. "Alone?"
"Yes."
"Cultivation?"
"I do not know. Some said Late Qi Conjunction. Some said hidden Spirit Foundation. I really do not know!"
Lu Han stared at her. His gaze was colder than his sword. "Appearance?"
The young woman trembled. "I heard... unfamiliar face. Not one of the three sects. He used a cold sword."
"A cold sword?"
"Yes. Frost marks. They said there were frost marks everywhere."
Lu Han's eyes narrowed.
Cold sword. Hidden cultivator. Possible inheritance.
He slowly withdrew his sword.
Relief appeared on the young woman's face. "Thank you, Senior—"
Sword light flashed.
Her head fell.
Lu Han shook the blood from his blade. "You know too little."
He turned toward the deeper ruins as a message talisman burned beside him. Yan Chi's voice came through.
"You heard?"
Lu Han nodded, replied calmly, "Huo Lan is dead. Qin Yuesheng crippled. Meng Shi injured. The culprit uses a cold sword and hides his identity."
Yan Chi laughed coldly. "You sound calm. Qin Yuesheng is from your River Sword Sect."
"He is alive."
"Barely."
"Then he is still useful."
Yan Chi sneered. "The inheritance."
Lu Han's eyes became sharper, "I know."
Yan Chi's voice lowered and greed rose, "The elders told us to wait until the third day. But that order no longer matters since an inheritance has been excavated."
Lu Han did not reply immediately. He looked at the corpses around him, then toward the deeper parts of the ruins.
"If the culprit obtained any inheritance, we take it before the ruins eject anyone."
"Agreed."
A third voice entered through the talisman, heavy and flat.
Guo Zhen.
"Kill all witnesses."
Yan Chi laughed. "You finally said something sensible."
Lu Han looked at the corpses around him and said coldy. "I have already started."
In a cracked stone tunnel, Guo Zhen lowered his hand from the message talisman.
Before him stood seven recruited cultivators.
Or rather, seven who had once been standing.
Three were dead. Two were unconscious. Two remained alive, pressed against the tunnel wall by invisible pressure. Guo Zhen's body was like a tower in the dim light. His black-brown armor carried dust and blood, and the dark mountain pressure around him made the tunnel feel narrower than it was.
He looked at the two survivors.
"Cold sword. Hidden face. Inheritance. Where?"
One survivor sobbed. "We do not know!"
Guo Zhen raised his foot and stepped down. The unconscious cultivator nearest him was crushed into the ground, and blood spread across the stone.
The two survivors screamed uncontrollably.
Guo Zhen repeated calmly, "Where?"
The second survivor broke. "Lower ruins! Someone said he left the underground hall! The vines opened for him! That is all we heard!"
Guo Zhen's eyes moved slightly. "The vines opened for him?"
"Yes! Yes! Please, Senior, I told you everything!"
Guo Zhen nodded.
Then he punched.
The survivor's body burst against the wall.
The last cultivator collapsed from fear. Guo Zhen looked down at him.
"You heard too much."
A moment later, the tunnel became silent.
Guo Zhen walked forward, each step heavy enough to make dust fall from the cracks above. His expression finally changed slightly.
"The ruin responded to him."
That meant the inheritance was not ordinary. It might even involve partial control over the Demon Sealing Ruins. If that was true, then the mission had changed completely.
This was no longer merely about harvesting recruited cultivators.
This was about seizing the greatest treasure inside the ruins.
Deep within a hidden chamber, Fang Lin opened his eyes.
He had been sitting cross-legged in darkness, refining the first layer of the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture. The faint white life thread and black death thread inside his body had become slightly more stable, though both were still extremely weak. His injuries were mostly healed, and after combining Phantom Transformation with Shadow Breath, his aura had sunk even deeper.
Even if an ordinary Spirit Foundation cultivator passed nearby, they might overlook him if they did not search carefully.
But now, through the faint authority he had gained from the ruins, Fang Lin sensed movement.
Killing.
Not corpse beasts.
Cultivators.
Groups of recruited cultivators were dying quickly across different areas of the ruins. Three powerful auras moved separately, each concealed by a suppressing talisman, each belonging to a Middle Spirit Foundation cultivator, and each killing without hesitation.
Fang Lin's eyes turned cold. "They started early."
He had expected them to wait until near the deadline, but Huo Lan's death and the underground hall had changed their rhythm. They were looking for him.
No.
Not only him.
The inheritance.
Fang Lin slowly stood.
The hidden chamber responded to his movement, and the stone wall shifted open by a narrow line. He did not leave immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes and pushed his weak perception outward into the ruin.
The vision was unclear and fragmented, like looking through cracked glass. He saw black passages, broken courtyards, fleeing cultivators, blood, flames, sword light, and a heavy fist smashing stone. Then he saw three figures.
Lu Han.
Yan Chi.
Guo Zhen.
Their faces appeared only for a moment before the vision shattered.
Fang Lin exhaled softly.
The authority was still too weak. He could not watch them for long, but it was enough. The three hunters were not moving together yet.
That was useful.
If all three came at once, Fang Lin would have to retreat and rely on the ruins. If one came alone, the situation would be different.
His eyes became calm.
A Middle Spirit Foundation sect genius was exactly the kind of opponent he had judged carefully before. He could hold his own, but killing one would not be easy. Not without preparation.
Fang Lin looked down at his palm. A faint black shadow gathered around his fingers.
Shadow Breath.
The first layer of the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture was still shallow and unstable, but it was suitable for hiding, ambush, and sudden killing strikes.
Then a faint white light moved beneath his skin. The life force born from the Nine Nether Phantom Body silently restored his condition. He was not at his peak, but he was close enough.
Fang Lin put away the remaining spirit stones and storage treasures, then activated Phantom Transformation. His face changed again. His aura dropped. His presence thinned. Shadow Breath wrapped around him like a second robe.
In the darkness of the Demon Sealing Ruins, Fang Lin almost disappeared.
Before leaving, he looked toward the deeper area of the ruins. The dark flame in his spiritual sea flickered, and a faint voice seemed to echo inside his mind.
"Hunters seek the shadow."
The shadow it spoke of was not merely him.
It was the inheritance.
Fang Lin's expression remained calm. "Then let them."
The stone wall opened.
He stepped out.
Somewhere far away, another scream rang through the ruins.
Yan Chi stood amid flames, holding a half-burned cultivator by the throat. "Cold sword. Hidden face. Where?"
The cultivator could barely speak. "I... I saw frost marks near the lower western passage..."
Yan Chi smiled. "Good."
Flames swallowed the man.
Yan Chi dropped the corpse and looked toward the west.
At the same time, Lu Han moved through a broken corridor, following faint traces of cold Qi. Elsewhere, Guo Zhen crushed a corpse beast with one hand and turned toward the lower ruins.
The three hidden Spirit Foundation geniuses were closing in.
The recruited cultivators fled in terror.
The ruins grew darker.
And between cracked walls and silent shadows, Fang Lin moved without sound.
For the first time since entering the Demon Sealing Ruins, he was no longer only being hunted.
He was choosing where the hunt would begin.