At that time, Lin Xiao had been quite intrigued by the combination of talismans and formations, and he had earnestly sought guidance from Liu Chun, who generously shared his personal Tracing Talisman Formation formula.
Even so, Lin Xiao struggled to grasp it at first. Fortunately, his natural talent was good, and he had a decent understanding of talismans and formations. His consistent study of the basics provided by the system, coupled with diligent practice, eventually allowed him to scratch the surface of the Tracing Talisman Formation.
On average, out of ten attempts, he could successfully track something about three or four times. In the other six or seven tries, the results were either far off or completely misleading.
Despite this, Liu Chun had praised him, saying it was already a sign of remarkable talent. He explained that most talisman masters would need decades of practice to perfectly control even this basic formation. For Lin Xiao to achieve a fifty percent success rate with just spare-time practice was extraordinary. In fact, Liu Chun joked that if Lin Xiao's talent were known in the wider cultivation world, some might be driven to jealousy, perhaps even to the point of trying to kill him.
This understanding of the Tracing Talisman Formation gave Lin Xiao confidence that he could be of help in the current situation.
However, since they had decided to send Fang Tuantuan on this investigation, they needed to ask for the cat demon's consent. Sun Yigao immediately went outside to retrieve Fang Tuantuan, who had been napping in the sun just outside the sect's hall, and explained the situation.
Fang Tuantuan, having recently been studying medicinal and healing techniques under Sun Yigao, had long been curious about practical applications. This mission seemed like the perfect opportunity to put what it had learned into practice. Overjoyed, the cat demon eagerly nodded its head, excited not only by the chance to use its skills but also by the prospect of seeing a new place for the first time.
With the team decided, the meeting ended, and Lin Xiao wasted no time. That same day, he took Fang Tuantuan and set out for Huan You Kingdom.
Within the borders of Huan You Kingdom, in a remote, forested mountain range, lay a vast lake.
The lake's waters shimmered, reflecting the surrounding towering peaks and creating an idyllic scene of natural beauty. But upon closer inspection, one might notice something strange: birds flying from the forest would approach the lake but vanish without a trace before reaching its waters. Then, some time later, they would inexplicably reappear on the other side of the lake.
A sudden thud echoed from the distant bushes—a sound like something heavy being dropped to the ground.
"Grandmaster, are you certain these ten women will be enough to summon Jixiang's avatar?" Huan You's former king—now simply ex-king—asked the grandmaster beside him, his gaze fixed on the ten tightly bound sacks lying on the ground.
The ex-king was a far cry from his former glory, his once elegant robes now tattered, with one sleeve torn, and mud smeared across his face. Gone was the haughty arrogance that once defined him; now he looked like a man desperately clinging to life.
The grandmaster did not respond, merely narrowing his eyes as he observed the vast lake ahead.
Around them were about a dozen cultivators, all of whom had escaped with them from the Alliance forces. Some were members of the royal family, while others came from allied sects.
A short, stout Foundation Establishment cultivator, originally assigned to serve the grandmaster by the royal family, spoke up with a hint of disdain in his voice: "Your Majesty, surely you don't doubt the grandmaster's words? After all, your very life was saved thanks to his wisdom. If he says this will work, then it will."
The ex-king glanced briefly at the sycophantic cultivator, one of the royal family's trained loyalists, and internally cursed, "Opportunist." But he didn't dare speak further. After all, of all those present, he had the lowest cultivation level. The only reason he had survived was that he shamelessly clung to the grandmaster's leg when the palace fell.
The other cultivators surrounding them cast doubtful glances at the ex-king. One tall, thin cultivator transmitted a message through voice transmission to the stout one: "Why did the grandmaster bring him along?"
The stout cultivator replied, "I have no idea. This whole time, he's slowed us down. We nearly got caught by the Alliance army several times because of him."
"Exactly. What good is a title when the kingdom has already fallen? What use is he?"
"Who knows? Let's not dwell on it; the grandmaster must have his reasons."
While the others whispered among themselves, the grandmaster remained focused, his pale face betraying no emotion as he continued to watch the lake.
One of his personal guards, standing close by, asked softly, "Grandmaster, when the Jishi stone cave collapsed, we investigated it, but all those who entered never returned. You said then that the time wasn't right, that Jixiang would guide us when the moment came. Has that moment arrived?"
The grandmaster gave the man a fleeting glance before producing a large, black stone statue from thin air and holding it reverently before him.
"The time is now."
He set the black stone statue on the ground, sat cross-legged before it, and began to rapidly chant an incantation. The words fell upon the ears of the cultivators behind him, but none could make sense of what he was saying. Any attempt to concentrate on his voice left them feeling dizzy, forcing them to stop trying.
As they watched, a dark beam of light shot up from the center of the lake, connecting with the black stone statue. The statue then began to glow with an eerie black aura—a darkness that seemed to pull at their consciousness, urging them to look away.
Only the grandmaster remained unaffected, his gaze locked onto the stone with an almost fanatical gleam. His face was still emotionless, but his eyes shone with obsession. Fortunately for the others, his back was to them, so they couldn't see the look on his face.
After what felt like an eternity, the grandmaster finally tore his gaze from the statue, stood up, and, without turning around, muttered to himself—or perhaps to the others: "The Jixiang has come to receive us."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a dark formation began to light up beneath their feet. It centered around the black statue, encompassing the dozen cultivators and the ten sacks on the ground.