Fang Lin walked through the lower passages of the Demon Sealing Ruins in silence.
The darkness around him was no longer the same as before.
Earlier, the black mist of the ruins had felt cold, dangerous, and unfamiliar. It had pressed against him like something hungry, waiting for a weakness. But after accepting the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture and refining the strange grey-green leaf, Fang Lin could sense more beneath the surface.
The flow of shadow.
The inactivity of old formations.
The faint pulse of hidden chambers.
The way black vines tightened when strangers approached, yet slowly relaxed when he drew near.
His control over the ruins was still weak. Very weak. He could not command this place as its master, nor could he freely open every hidden passage or suppress every danger.
But the Demon Sealing Ruins no longer treated him purely as prey.
That alone changed many things.
Fang Lin's steps were light. Most of his wounds had closed, and the life force born from the Nine Nether Phantom Body flowed quietly beneath his skin. It no longer vanished after each circulation like a fading spark. Instead, it remained within him like a thin underground spring, gentle but persistent.
Greater Mastery of the Nine Nether Phantom Body had transformed his body.
His flesh was denser. His bones were sturdier. His meridians could withstand stronger bursts of Qi. His recovery had increased sharply, and his physical strength had risen again.
If he fought Guo Zhen now, the battle would not unfold the same way.
At the thought of Guo Zhen, Fang Lin's eyes lowered slightly.
Guo Zhen.
Black Mountain Gate.
The dark wooden box.
The grey-green leaf.
A faint light moved through Fang Lin's gaze.
Of all the spoils he had gained from the three Spirit Foundation geniuses, that leaf had been the strangest and most precious.
Lu Han had carried sword manuals, jade armor, sword talismans, and spirit stones. Yan Chi had carried flame pills, fire stones, a pill furnace, and sealed flame treasure. Everything they carried was useful. Everything had value.
But Guo Zhen's storage ring had contained something different.
A leaf that could stir the grey seed.
A leaf that awakened his life force.
A leaf that pushed the Nine Nether Phantom Body into Greater Mastery.
That was not ordinary.
And Guo Zhen had belonged to Black Mountain Gate.
Fang Lin did not believe such a thing had appeared in his storage ring by pure accident. Perhaps Guo Zhen had received it during a sect mission. Perhaps it had come from some old batch of body-tempering resources stored by Black Mountain Gate. Perhaps their elders had treated it as a rare herb without understanding its true value.
Or perhaps they knew more than they showed.
Fang Lin's gaze deepened.
"Black Mountain Gate…"
He quietly memorized the name again.
Before entering Rivercloud City, Black Mountain Gate had only been one of the three ruling sects in his mind. A body-cultivation sect. A sect that controlled rough disciples, heavy resources, and dark-earth cultivation methods. Their people wore heavy robes and armor, carried stone-like auras, and valued physical strength more than graceful technique.
Now, that sect had become something else.
A possible clue.
Not to the darkness legacy.
But, to the grey seed.
And anything connected to the grey seed was connected to Fang Lin's deepest secrets.
His body cultivation.
His life force.
His strange growth.
Perhaps Uncle Wei.
Perhaps even his parents.
Fang Lin's heart remained calm, but his decision settled quietly.
In the future, he would enter Black Mountain Gate.
Not openly.
Not as Fang Lin.
He would need a new face, a new identity, and a way to investigate their resource channels, old storage records, body-tempering materials, and hidden archives. If there was another leaf like that one, he had to find it. If Black Mountain Gate knew where it came from, he had to learn it. If they possessed more things connected to the grey seed, he would take them.
But not now.
Now, he was still inside the Demon Sealing Ruins.
The three-day deadline had not arrived. The Core Formation elders outside still waited. Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen were dead, but their deaths would eventually be discovered.
The first priority was survival and escaping from the Rivercloud sects. Then investigation.
Fang Lin continued forward.
After some time, he reached a broken underground bridge. Beneath it was a deep chasm filled with black mist, and faint whispers rose from below, twisting into sounds that almost resembled words.
Fang Lin stopped at the edge.
Several corpses lay near the bridge.
They were recruited cultivators.
As he moved forward, he found that some had been cut apart by sword Qi. Some had been burned until their skin blackened. Some had been crushed so heavily that the stone beneath them had cracked.
The work of Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen.
Their storage pouches had already been taken.
Fang Lin looked at them silently.
These people had entered the ruins for five low-grade spirit stones and the hope of finding minor treasure. Most of them had probably known the ruins would be dangerous, but they had not known the true danger was the three sects themselves.
Smiling faces outside.
Hidden knives inside.
Fang Lin did not become sentimental, but he remembered.
This was the outside world.
The strong wrote the rules. The weak died beneath them. Those who wanted to live had to see through the smile before the knife entered their back.
Fang Lin stepped onto the bridge.
The moment his foot touched the stone, black mist surged from below. A whisper slipped into his ears.
Stay.
Fall.
Sleep.
Fang Lin's expression did not change.
The dark flame in his spiritual sea flickered, and the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture circulated. The whisper weakened instantly.
He walked forward.
The black mist parted slightly around him.
Not fully.
But enough.
Halfway across the bridge, Fang Lin's steps paused.
A faint image appeared in his perception.
Three groups of recruited cultivators were still alive nearby.
One group hid inside a collapsed herb garden. One group was trapped near a damaged formation gate. Another group was being chased by corpse beasts.
Fang Lin's eyes moved slightly.
He had no obligation to save them.
But the more survivors there were, the more confusion there would be when the ruins ejected everyone. If only a few people survived, the three sects could interrogate them easily. If many survived, with different stories, scattered panic, and conflicting reports, Fang Lin would have more room to disappear.
The three sects had intended to kill them all.
Letting some of them live was useful.
And perhaps, in a cold way, satisfying.
Fang Lin crossed the bridge and turned toward the nearest group.
The collapsed herb garden was hidden behind a wall covered in thorn-like black vines. Inside, six recruited cultivators sat in silence. Two were injured. One old man had lost an arm. A young woman held a cracked defensive talisman, her fingers trembling around it so tightly that her knuckles had gone pale.
They had gathered a small number of spirit herbs, but none of them dared to leave.
Corpse beasts wandered outside.
The vines blocked another path.
And somewhere in the distance, flames and screams had echoed for hours.
The young woman whispered, "Will we die here?"
No one answered.
The old man with one arm laughed bitterly. "The three sects never meant for us to leave."
Another cultivator gritted his teeth. "I should have known. Five spirit stones, first claim on treasures, and a chance to enter the ruins? Since when were sects so generous?"
The young woman lowered her head.
"I only wanted enough spirit stones to buy medicine for my brother."
Silence followed.
Then the black vines at the entrance moved.
Everyone froze.
A figure stepped through.
Plain dark-grey robes.
An ordinary face.
A thin presence.
A cold sword at his side.
They did not recognize him.
But after everything they had experienced, none of them dared to treat him as ordinary.
The old man struggled to stand. "Senior…"
Fang Lin looked at them. His aura was hidden, but fear had already sharpened their senses. They could feel that the person standing before them was not simple.
He threw a small pouch onto the ground.
Inside were several low-grade healing pills.
The group stared in shock.
Fang Lin said calmly, "There is a passage behind the third broken wall to the east. It leads upward. Avoid red-lit corridors. Avoid silver sword marks. Avoid black stone footprints."
The cultivators' faces changed.
Red-lit corridors.
Silver sword marks.
Black stone footprints.
Those were the traces left behind by Yan Chi, Lu Han, and Guo Zhen.
The young woman looked at the pouch, then at Fang Lin. "Why help us?"
Fang Lin turned away.
"The more people survive, the harder it becomes for the three sects to silence everyone."
The old man understood at once. His face became pale, then bitter.
"So it really was them…"
Fang Lin did not answer.
He stepped back toward the vines.
Before leaving, he added, "If you leave alive, do not say you met me."
No one dared refuse.
The vines closed after him, and the herb garden became silent again.
The young woman picked up the pill pouch with trembling hands. The old man looked toward the place where Fang Lin had disappeared, his expression complicated.
After a long time, he whispered, "That person is not with the three sects."
Another cultivator swallowed. "Then who is he?"
The old man shook his head.
"I do not know."
His gaze fell on the healing pills.
"But perhaps we should be grateful."
Fang Lin moved through the ruins again.
He did not save every group.
He was not foolish enough for that.
He only acted where the cost was small, where the danger was manageable, and where the survival of others could benefit his escape.
At the damaged formation gate, he quietly activated a broken formation line from afar, opening a path before the trapped cultivators even saw him.
Near the corpse beast chase, he used shadow force to lure several corpse beasts into an old pit formation, giving the fleeing group a chance to escape.
He did not reveal himself.
He did not accept thanks.
He simply moved on.
Time passed.
The ruins grew darker.
The second day was nearing its end.
Only one day remained before the deadline.
Fang Lin found another hidden chamber near the lower eastern tunnels. This one was safer than the last. The walls still carried faint concealment power, and the black vines nearby avoided the entrance after sensing his presence.
He entered and sealed the chamber.
Then he sat cross-legged.
It was time to examine the sealed jade box from Yan Chi.
The box floated before him, flame restrictions covering its surface. Fang Lin studied them carefully. Yan Chi had been a Crimson Flame Hall genius. Anything sealed this carefully was either dangerous or valuable.
Most likely both.
Fang Lin did not use brute force. He took out several formation flags from the spoils and arranged them around the box. Then he used soul perception to locate the weak points in the restriction.
The process took time.
Half an hour.
One hour.
Finally, a small gap appeared.
Fang Lin injected a thread of shadow force into it. The flame restriction trembled, resisted for several breaths, then slowly faded.
The jade box opened.
Inside lay a red-black crystal.
It pulsed with fire energy, but the flame sealed inside was not bright. It was dark and ember-like, burning with a devouring quality.
Yan Chi's aura had carried black sparks.
This crystal seemed to be the source.
Fang Lin examined it for a moment.
"A flame seed?"
The crystal contained devouring fire Qi. It was too violent for Fang Lin to absorb directly, and his path was already clear.
Frost.
Life.
Death.
Shadow Breath was a branch of Death, and Death itself belonged to the deeper path of Darkness. Forcing fire into his foundation would only create conflict and weaken the purity of his cultivation.
But the crystal was valuable.
Very valuable.
It could be traded, used in formations, strengthened into flame talismans, or perhaps used later against another fire cultivator.
Fang Lin stored it carefully.
Then he opened the map fragments.
Lu Han's map.
Guo Zhen's map.
The earlier outer ruin map.
When placed together, the fragments formed a rough picture of several regions of the Demon Sealing Ruins.
The outer gate.
The broken courtyards.
The lower western passage.
The black vine descent.
The collapsed chain chamber.
The central forbidden zone.
Fang Lin's gaze stopped on the central forbidden zone.
In the distance, when he had first entered the ruins, he had seen a dark spire. That place was likely connected to this area.
The grey seed had reacted to the ruins. The dark legacy had given him partial authority. But the true core of the Demon Sealing Ruins had not yet been touched.
Fang Lin looked at the map silently.
He would not rush there now.
His strength had increased, but he was not arrogant. If even the outer and lower areas had nearly killed him, the central zone would only be more dangerous.
He needed time.
And perhaps the ruins themselves would not fully open to him yet.
After storing the maps, Fang Lin closed his eyes.
He circulated the Nine Nether Phantom Body.
Life force moved steadily through his flesh and bones.
Then he circulated the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture.
Darkness flowed through hidden channels.
The two forces balanced each other.
Life and death.
Frost and shadow.
Body and soul.
His Peak Qi Conjunction Realm gradually stabilized, and the Greater Mastery of the Nine Nether Phantom Body became smoother with each cycle.
Fang Lin's breathing slowed.
Inside his spiritual sea, the grey seed floated quietly. The faint sprout mark left by the mysterious leaf remained on its surface.
Fang Lin focused on it.
The mark did not move.
But he could sense a faint longing from the seed.
Not hunger.
Longing.
As if that leaf had reminded it of something it had lost.
Or something it was meant to become.
Fang Lin opened his eyes.
"Black Mountain Gate."
His voice was soft.
"One day, I will enter."
Not as a guest.
Not as an enemy charging through the gate.
As a shadow.
As a disciple.
As a servant.
As anyone necessary.
He would find where the leaf came from. He would find whether there were more. He would find what connection existed between that sect's resources and the grey seed.
And if Black Mountain Gate stood in his way…
Fang Lin's eyes became cold.
Then he would cut through them too.
For now, he closed his eyes again.
Outside the hidden chamber, the Demon Sealing Ruins breathed in darkness.
The three sects waited beyond the entrance.
Survivors hid in fear.
Corpse beasts wandered.
Black mist whispered.
And beneath it all, Fang Lin cultivated silently.
A seed had awakened.
A new target had appeared.
The next path had begun to form.
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