Light returned violently.
One moment, Fang Lin had been standing inside the black mist of the Demon Sealing Ruins. The next, his feet touched solid ground outside the broken valley, and noise crashed into his ears from every direction.
Shouts rose. People coughed blood. Someone cried in relief. Sect disciples called out names in panic, while wandering cultivators gasped for breath as if they had crawled out of the underworld itself.
The surviving cultivators appeared one after another near the entrance gate. Some collapsed as soon as they landed. Some staggered forward with pale faces. Others simply stared up at the open sky, their eyes blank, as though they had never expected to see it again.
Behind them, the Demon Sealing Ruins stood in silence.
Black mist drifted through the ancient stone gate.
The barrier had closed again.
Fang Lin stood among the crowd with his head lowered. His current face was rough and scarred. His robes were torn, stained with dust and old blood, and a damaged ordinary blade hung at his waist. His aura remained at Middle Qi Conjunction Realm, weak and unstable, like a wandering cultivator who had barely survived through luck.
There was no frost aura.
No darkness aura.
No life force.
No trace of Fang Lin.
No trace of Lin Mo.
He looked like one more lucky survivor.
That was exactly what he needed.
Around him, many of the surviving recruited cultivators trembled. Some looked relieved. Some looked terrified. The relief came from leaving the ruins alive. The terror came from realizing that the people waiting outside were not friendly.
Near the entrance valley and along the hidden cliff stood cultivators from the three Rivercloud sects.
The River Sword Sect cultivators wore white robes embroidered with silver wave patterns. Their sect emblem, a silver sword crossing a flowing river, shone on chest badges and waist tokens.
The Crimson Flame Hall cultivators wore dark red robes marked with flame patterns. Ember-gold stitching lined their sleeves, and flame-shaped jade tokens hung from their waists.
The Black Mountain Gate cultivators wore black-brown robes and armor-like garments. Their tokens bore a heavy black mountain crest, angular and cold.
Behind them stood several Spirit Foundation cultivators.
And above all of them were six Core Formation elders.
The pressure from those Core Formation cultivators covered the valley like an invisible mountain. Many recruited cultivators turned pale the instant they sensed it, and a few who had barely survived the ruins nearly fell to their knees again.
Fang Lin lowered his head further and withdrew his soul perception tightly.
Core Formation cultivators were not like Spirit Foundation geniuses. If he carelessly spread his perception near them, they might notice.
He waited.
A River Sword Sect elder stepped forward. His white robe carried silver embroidery at the cuffs, marking his elder status. His aura was silver-blue, calm on the surface but sharp underneath, like a river hiding sword light beneath its current.
His gaze swept across the returning crowd.
At first, his expression was calm.
Then it changed.
Too few.
Far too few.
Nearly sixty recruited cultivators had entered the ruins, along with the three sect groups. Now, fewer than twenty recruited cultivators had returned.
Many sect disciples were missing.
Huo Lan was missing.
Lu Han was missing.
Yan Chi was missing.
Guo Zhen was missing.
The elder's eyes narrowed.
Beside him, a Crimson Flame Hall elder's face darkened. "Where is Huo Lan?"
No one answered.
A Black Mountain Gate elder looked toward the returning disciples, his voice heavy. "Where is Guo Zhen?"
Silence spread through the valley.
The air became colder, though no wind blew.
Qin Yuesheng appeared among the returning River Sword Sect disciples. His face was pale, and one arm hung uselessly at his side while two disciples supported him.
The River Sword Sect elder's gaze sharpened.
"Qin Yuesheng."
Qin Yuesheng lowered his head. "Elder."
"What happened inside?"
Qin Yuesheng's lips moved, but before he could speak, the Crimson Flame Hall elder stepped forward.
"Huo Lan?"
Qin Yuesheng hesitated.
"She… died."
Flame pressure erupted.
Several recruited cultivators screamed and fell to their knees. The Crimson Flame Hall elder's eyes burned with red-orange light as his voice turned sharp.
"Who killed her?"
Qin Yuesheng's face became even paler. "I do not know his identity."
The River Sword Sect elder's expression changed. "Speak clearly."
Qin Yuesheng gritted his teeth. "There was an underground hall. A hidden cultivator obtained some opportunity there. Huo Lan attacked him. Many disciples died. I was injured. Meng Shi survived."
The Black Mountain Gate elder immediately looked toward Meng Shi.
Meng Shi stood not far away, his body wrapped in bandages. His broad frame looked weaker than before, but his eyes remained heavy.
"Is this true?"
Meng Shi lowered his head. "Yes, Elder."
The six Core Formation elders looked at one another.
A hidden cultivator.
An underground hall.
An opportunity.
Many disciples dead.
Their expressions grew strange, then cold.
The River Sword Sect elder asked slowly, "Where is Lu Han?"
Qin Yuesheng froze.
"Lu Han?"
The Crimson Flame Hall elder's eyes narrowed. "You did not see Yan Chi?"
Meng Shi's expression changed as well. "Yan Chi?"
The Black Mountain Gate elder's face became completely dark. "You did not meet Guo Zhen?"
The returning sect disciples looked confused.
The recruited cultivators looked at one another.
Fang Lin remained still among them.
His heart was calm.
So Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi had not known about the three hidden Spirit Foundation geniuses.
Good.
That meant the three sects had hidden even that from their own open teams.
The six Core Formation elders fell silent, and faint killing intent began to spread among them.
Something had gone wrong.
Very wrong.
The hidden Spirit Foundation geniuses had entered later. They should have killed the outsiders, harvested the treasures, and returned before the final ejection.
But now, they were missing.
No message.
No aura.
No return.
Dead?
The thought appeared in the elders' minds, but none of them wanted to believe it.
Three Middle Spirit Foundation Realm sect geniuses, all dead inside the outer region of the ruins?
Impossible.
Unless the opportunity was far greater than expected.
Or unless the hidden cultivator was not a Qi Conjunction cultivator at all.
The Crimson Flame Hall elder turned sharply toward the recruited cultivators.
His voice was cold.
"All recruited cultivators will remain."
Fear spread immediately.
Several wandering cultivators stepped back instinctively, but Spirit Foundation cultivators from the three sects had already moved forward and surrounded them.
The River Sword Sect elder spoke with forced calm. "The exploration has ended. According to the agreement, rewards will be distributed after registration and inspection."
The words sounded proper.
But no one believed them.
Inspection.
Registration.
Rewards.
They were only new masks for old knives.
Fang Lin felt the survivors around him stiffen.
Then one of the men he had warned inside the ruins suddenly shouted, "Inspection? You mean interrogation!"
The valley became silent.
The man's face was pale, but his eyes were red. "You sent people inside to kill us! A flame cultivator! A silver sword cultivator! A black mountain body cultivator! They slaughtered recruited cultivators!"
The Crimson Flame Hall elder's eyes turned cold.
"Impudent."
The man trembled, but another survivor shouted after him.
"He is right! I saw it too!"
"They killed my brother!"
"The three sects lied!"
"You never planned to let us leave with treasures!"
Voices rose one after another.
Not many.
But enough.
The surviving recruited cultivators had been terrified. Now, under the pressure of being led away, that fear turned into desperation. They knew Fang Lin's warning had been true.
If they stayed silent, they would die quietly.
If they shouted now, perhaps someone would hear.
The Spirit Foundation cultivators surrounding them grew angry.
One River Sword Sect cultivator shouted, "Slander!"
A Crimson Flame Hall cultivator raised his hand, flames gathering around his palm. "You dare accuse the three sects?"
The recruited cultivators panicked. Some backed away. Some prepared to run. Some looked toward the Core Formation elders and saw only colder faces.
The elders did not immediately attack.
They were confused.
Angry.
And cautious.
Too many people were shouting the same things.
A flame cultivator.
A silver sword cultivator.
A black mountain body cultivator.
Those descriptions matched Yan Chi, Lu Han, and Guo Zhen.
But how could the outsiders know?
The Black Mountain Gate elder's face became ugly.
"Take them away first," he said in a low voice. "Separate them. Question them."
The meaning was clear.
Once separated, voices could be silenced.
A group of Spirit Foundation cultivators stepped forward.
"Move!"
"Follow us for reward distribution!"
"Anyone who resists will be treated as contaminated by demonic Qi!"
The survivors' faces turned ashen.
Some cursed. Some cried. Some looked around desperately for help that should not have existed.
Fang Lin lowered his eyes.
His right hand rested near the damaged blade at his waist.
He did not want to act.
If he acted here, he would die.
Core Formation elders were watching. Spirit Foundation cultivators surrounded the valley. His disguise might hold only if he stayed quiet.
But if the recruited cultivators were taken away one by one, the three sects might eventually discover too much.
Fang Lin's mind moved quickly.
Should he create chaos?
Use the bone token?
Trigger the remaining aura of the ruins?
Before he could decide, the wind changed.
It was subtle.
A breeze passed over the valley.
Light.
Clean.
Almost gentle.
But the moment it arrived, every Core Formation elder froze.
Their expressions changed at the same time.
Fang Lin's eyes moved slightly.
The pressure covering the valley vanished.
Not weakened.
Vanished.
The six Core Formation auras that had pressed down on everyone were silently pushed aside by something far deeper.
A calm voice sounded from above.
"Reward distribution?"
The voice was neither loud nor angry, yet it entered every ear clearly.
"Is this how Rivercloud City rewards recruited cultivators?"
Everyone looked up.
Above the valley, a figure stood in the air.
An old man.
He wore plain white robes. There was no silver river pattern on them, no flame mark, and no black mountain crest. Only a small cloud-shaped jade pendant hung at his waist.
His white hair was tied loosely behind him, and his sleeves moved gently in the wind. He looked ordinary, almost harmless.
But beneath him, the six Core Formation elders did not dare breathe loudly.
The River Sword Sect elder cupped his hands immediately.
"Senior."
The Crimson Flame Hall elder lowered his flame aura. "Senior, this is a matter of Rivercloud City's three sects."
The old man looked at him.
Only looked.
The Crimson Flame Hall elder's face turned pale, and he immediately lowered his head.
The valley became deathly silent.
Fang Lin stood among the recruited cultivators, his head still lowered, but inside, his attention sharpened.
A senior from a higher-level force.
Not from Rivercloud City.
Far stronger than Core Formation.
Perhaps he was passing by. Perhaps he had been watching. Perhaps he had come because of the ruins.
The old man descended slowly.
He did not release any pressure.
He did not need to.
The cultivators of the three sects stepped back on their own.
His gaze swept over the survivors.
Torn robes.
Burn wounds.
Sword cuts.
Crushed bones.
Terrified eyes.
Then he looked at the six elders.
"Nearly two hundred recruited cultivators entered."
No one answered.
"Fewer than forty returned."
Still, no one spoke.
The old man's voice remained calm. "And now you wish to escort them away privately for rewards?"
The word rewards sounded almost weightless, but every elder felt cold sweat gather on their backs.
The River Sword Sect elder forced himself to speak. "Senior, there may be demonic contamination among them. We only wished to inspect—"
"Here."
The elder froze.
The old man said, "Inspect them here."
The Crimson Flame Hall elder's expression changed. "Senior, this place is disorderly. It would be better to return to Rivercloud City and—"
The old man looked at him again.
The elder stopped speaking.
"If rewards are owed," the old man said, "give them here."
The Black Mountain Gate elder's jaw tightened, but he did not dare refuse.
The difference in strength was too large.
In front of this old man, their Core Formation cultivation meant very little.
The survivors stared in disbelief. Some still did not understand what had happened. Others understood very well.
This unknown senior had stopped the three sects from taking them away.
The cage had opened.
The River Sword Sect Core Formation elder turned to the Spirit Foundation cultivators.
"Distribute the promised rewards."
His voice was stiff.
One Spirit Foundation cultivator hesitated. "Elder…"
"Now."
The Spirit Foundation cultivator lowered his head quickly.
Spirit stones were brought out.
Five low-grade spirit stones per surviving recruited cultivator.
The amount was pitiful compared to what they had suffered, but no one cared about the reward anymore.
They cared about leaving alive.
When Fang Lin's turn came, he lowered his head and accepted the five low-grade spirit stones with trembling hands, like an ordinary survivor who feared even meeting a sect disciple's eyes.
The Spirit Foundation cultivator glanced at him briefly.
A scarred face.
Middle Qi Conjunction aura.
Damaged blade.
He was totally Unremarkable.
The cultivator moved on.
Fang Lin stored the stones silently.
His heart remained steady.
The old man's appearance had changed everything. The three sects could no longer openly take the survivors away, not here and not under his gaze.
After receiving their rewards, the survivors began backing away.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
One group moved toward the southern road. Another fled toward the river path. A few scattered into the nearby forest without even looking back.
The sect disciples looked toward their elders.
No order came.
The unknown senior still stood in the valley, and his presence alone held the three sects in place.
The survivors scattered.
Fang Lin moved with a group of wounded wandering cultivators at first. Then, when dust and confusion rose, he slipped away from them.
Shadow Breath thinned his presence.
Phantom Transformation subtly changed his face again.
The concealment bead's dull aura covered him.
In only a few breaths, he separated from the crowd and entered the edge of a rocky path.
No one noticed.
Except—
For one brief moment, Fang Lin felt a gaze pass over him.
It did not come from the Core Formation elders.
It came from above.
The unknown senior.
Fang Lin's body did not stiffen. He continued walking, slow, weak, ordinary.
The gaze lingered for half a breath.
Then it moved away.
Fang Lin's heart remained calm, but he understood.
The old man might have noticed something.
Not enough to expose him.
Perhaps only that he was different.
Perhaps more.
Fang Lin did not look back.
Behind him, the valley remained silent beneath the old man's presence.
The three Rivercloud sects had lost many disciples. Their hidden hunters had vanished. Their massacre had been interrupted. Their prey had scattered.
And Fang Lin, carrying the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture, the awakened life force, and the secret of the Demon Sealing Ruins, disappeared quietly among the survivors.
Only after reaching the shadow of a distant stone ridge did he finally exhale.
He had escaped the first net.
But he knew the three sects would not stop. They would search for the legacy. They would hunt for the hidden cultivator. They would turn over every clue they could find.
And the unknown senior above the clouds…
Fang Lin's eyes deepened.
Was he merely passing by?
Or had he come for the ruins too?
The answer did not matter for now.
Fang Lin lowered his head and vanished into the road mist.
Behind him, Rivercloud City's smiling mask had cracked.
But the knives beneath it were still there.
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