About fifty li from the Demon Thunder Monastery, deep in a dense forest.
Night had long since fallen. In the endless sea of trees, cicadas trilled softly and frogs croaked in low chorus. Li Xun's eyes were unhindered by the darkness. He swept his gaze in all directions, making sure the restrictive formation he had set were secure. Only then did he form the hand seals and slowly begin the Bone-Meridian Heartlink technique he had learned from Zhong Yin.
The secret art Zhong Yin had tailored for him was indeed remarkable.
Guided by the incantation, the flow of the qi mechanisms inside him shifted. Without conscious effort, the Soul Shift Rebirth technique arose on its own. In an instant, the very nature of his qi transformed. The once fine, threadlike streams of Daoist true breath suddenly burst forth with a muffled boom, turning into a surging tide of ghostly fire. It swelled and contracted once in the heart chakra, then sank into utter stillness.
It wasn't just the qi that changed. His muscles, bones, and meridians all underwent subtle, profound transformations.
The face that had once been gentle in line and refined in manner shifted as a few muscles moved and the blood drained from his skin. In the blink of an eye, he had become an entirely different person. Aside from still being handsome, there was now an unshakable air of cold, unsettling strangeness about him.
Put the two faces side by side, and no one could find even the faintest resemblance.
This transformation wasn't solely the work of the Bone-Meridian Heartlink. He had blended it with the Faceless Armor disguise technique, reshaping the very structure of his muscles and bones from the inside out.
After more than sixty years of refinement, even the people who knew him best would never see through it.
Li Xun ran a hand over his cheek. Satisfied that everything was flawless, he let a thin smile curl across his lips, strange patterns twisting over his face as the expression took hold.
He gave a light cough, and the air beside him rippled. A slim figure appeared without a sound, extending a hand as pale and flawless as carved jade. Resting in her palm was a pitch-black bracelet, dark as ink, the stark contrast of black and white making it striking to behold.
Without a word, Li Xun removed his Bixie Jade, the Phoenix-Feather Needle, and other ornaments. He let his hair fall loose, slipped off his outer robe, and then took the bracelet from that jade-like hand, fastening it around his left wrist.
The slender figure accepted the treasures from him, then drifted silently behind his back. Her fingers moved with deft precision, quickly tying his hair into a topknot slightly different from before. She then helped him change into a dark blue Daoist robe with golden trim that had been prepared in advance, securing it with a jade belt.
From that moment, the world had one less rising star of the Mingxin Sword Sect and one more high-ranking disciple of the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect.
The heavy night was the perfect cover. As the slim figure faded once more into the void, Li Xun rose to his full height and called, "Nether One."
A burly figure stepped out of the air, standing beside him. A loose black robe covered his entire body, and even where his face should have been, faint tendrils of black mist swirled, hiding his features. Only his eyes could be seen. Twin crimson lights glinting with boundless killing intent.
Li Xun lightly touched the Seven Ghost Bells on his wrist and said in a low voice, "Go to the old temple by the lake. See what's there, then come back and tell me."
Nether One nodded without a word. His massive form shot into the air and vanished into the void.
Li Xun quickly calculated the qi he would need to summon his Nethermyst Puppets. After a moment's thought, he called again, "Nether two."
The slender figure from before reappeared from the void. She too was cloaked in a hooded black robe, and the only part of her visible was a pair of eyes. They were clear as water, and sharp as blades.
Even after living alongside the puppet for more than sixty years, Li Xun still didn't care to look her in the eyes. He spoke softly. "Take off your hood."
Nether Two obeyed without the slightest hesitation, pushing back the cowl to reveal a face of breathtaking beauty.
Sixty years had left not the faintest mark on her. Lacking any trace of blood's warmth, her skin seemed carved from pure jade. It was cool, lustrous, flawless. Beautiful… like a statue sculpted from ice-white stone.
Li Xun's fingers slid across her cheek. Beneath the silky softness, he felt a chill that sank into his veins. Nether Two's expression didn't change in the slightest. Li Xun studied her face, then frowned. "Smile for me."
She glanced at him, then parted her lips in a smile. Stunning, yes; but to Li Xun, it lacked that reckless abandon and the coy, hidden charm of another woman from long ago. Compared to her, the difference was far too great.
He sighed. He wasn't simply toying with her. Seeing this Feather Attendant had suddenly reminded him of Qin Wanru.
For the past sixty years, Qin Wanru had kept in touch with him. Not only about the so-called Yin Charm Scripture, but also about other matters Li Wangju had speculated on: intelligence, hired muscle, and the like.
Of course, it was mutual. Qin Wanru intended to profit from her knowledge of his secrets. And why wouldn't Li Xun hope to use Nether Two to gain an advantage over Qin Wanru? But to his frustration, the process of reviving the puppets' intelligence had turned out to be far more complicated than he'd expected.
Whether it was Nether Two or Nether One, their intellect now was on par with any living person, especially in matters of combat, where their skill had nearly returned to its peak. What's more, their memories from life were already almost completely restored.
But the key to true sentience wasn't so simple. Perhaps the two puppets had regained their memories and even developed the ability to reason from clues, to infer the greater from the small.
Yet that was only what they ought to do; not what they wanted to do. In other words, their budding intelligence still lacked a core "self."
It might be the safest, most secure puppet mode imaginable, but Li Xun didn't want it that way.
Whether by personal desire or by the authority of the old texts, puppets like Nether One and Nether Two, refined from the living bodies of True One cultivators, should "act because they wish to, act even if they don't wish to." In other words, they should have their own principles and judgments, yet still obey their controller without question.
That was the highest realm of the puppet arts. Li Xun wasn't so impatient as to think he could reach that level in just sixty or seventy years. But in their current state… could they really stand against Qin Wanru?
The Mancang Mountain Gathering in two months… that's going to be trouble.
He sighed. At that moment, Nether One returned.
Sending him out had been meant as "training," and judging from the results, Nether One had done well.
In a deep, resonant voice, Nether One reported, "…Of the Thirteen Blood Pits, eleven have already been used. It's nearly complete. But the 'materials' for the main chamber's core haven't been acquired, something must have interrupted the process. Also, the layout of those pits…" He paused, then continued, "It might be a naturally formed Earthfire Nexus."
The tone was unusually human for a puppet, an unexpected delight. Compared to that, the actual content of his words almost didn't matter.
Li Xun's heart stirred. "Very good," he praised. "Go on."
Nether Two's eyes at that moment were strikingly human. He glanced over Li Xun's face and spoke in a low, heavy voice. "There's definitely earthfire beneath the blood pits. The overall layout works, but the details are crude; mediocre at best. Still, the earthfire is unusually pure. It's not something brought in later, but something that's been here from the start.
"This person simply arranged the formation to take advantage of it, which is why it works so well… What's under these blood pits is actually more interesting than the pits themselves."
His speech was halting at first, but it grew smoother as he went on. By the time he finished, there was even a hint of the old Blood Wanderer's style in his words.
Li Xun felt a jolt. He locked eyes with the puppet, and in the shifting gleam there, he caught a spark of lively intelligence. Joy rose in his chest. He knew that this familiar scene had helped Nether One's spirit and memories knit together further, bringing him another step closer to full sentience.
Still, Nether One's words had brought up an important point. A natural earthfire nexus? That's strange. The forest sea was saturated with moisture, above and below, laced with countless rivers and streams. For thirteen earthfire points to exist here naturally without leaving a trace, without some kind of restrictive formation in place, would be enough to make even a ghost scoff at the idea.
But if there was a restrictive formation… where was it? The problem seemed even more complicated.
The monastery's formations are hidden and subtle. Without the thirteen blood pits, no one would have spotted anything. Whoever set this up… their skill is probably above mine. But is it "the winding path to the peak," "the scattering stars," or perhaps "great skill without words"?
The three techniques he named were the signature sealing arts of the Mystic Cycle Sect, the Star Sword Sect, and the Unspoken Sect.
In Li Xun's view, only techniques from these three great sects could humble him. Sitting beneath a tree, he broke off a twig and traced in the dirt. In his mind, the monastery's entire layout was already clear.
Li Xun probably knew the layout of the thirteen blood pits better than that half-trained cultivator ever did. When he'd flown out earlier, he had taken in every detail of the surrounding terrain. Now all he had to do was put himself in the place of the one who had set up the formations and ask, if it were him arranging it, how would he do it?
Each sect's methods were different, but all were rooted in the same vast Dao. All paths met in the end. Li Xun was confident that his formation would be almost indistinguishable from that master's work of years past.
The further he went, the more intrigued he became by the monastery's warding.
Thirteen fire nexus as the backbone, drawing in the forest's water veins… water and fire in harmony, not the slightest flaw visible. What treasure could be hidden behind such a formation?
By comparison, that so-called Xiao Zhongzi was hardly worth a thought.
Perhaps that was the only way to explain why the Underworld Monarch Sect, the Rogue Cultivators' Alliance, and even the Succubus Sect would lower themselves to pay this place a visit.
While Li Xun was puzzling over the monastery's formations, out on the great lake that ringed it, Yuan Nan's face was dark and twitching, making his already ugly features look even worse. "A mere Xiao Zhongzi. How could he have killed Yuan Shuo and Yuan Zhang? And done it so cleanly?"
Song Yuanchi rose from where Yuan Shuo's body lay, his own face grim. His features were regular and upright, which made him seem calmer than Yuan Nan. But in truth, he was the strategist of the Underworld Monarch Sect, far more steady than his hot-tempered companion.
"The fatal injuries are indeed from the Blood God Tribulation Finger; severed meridians, depleted blood and qi. That much is certain. But…"
Song Yuanchi paused in thought, then went on. "I've met Xiao Zhongzi before. With his cultivation, even if Yuan Shuo alone had been cautious, Xiao Zhongzi would have died ten times over. For him to dispatch both of them in one clean stroke, with barely a ripple of qi. By common reasoning, it's absolutely impossible."
Yuan Nan shot him a cold glance. "And yet, they're dead."
Song Yuanchi knew his temper and didn't take offense. He only sighed. "Yes… and that's exactly why it doesn't make sense. Great Elder, could it be that someone else was interfering from the shadows?"
Yuan Nan's gaze swept over him, and Song Yuanchi knew what he was thinking. His voice stayed calm. "This isn't an excuse for our failure. But over these past few days, whenever we've chased Xiao Zhongzi, something unexpected has happened at the crucial moment.
"Strange beasts getting in the way, tracks vanishing, even a few wandering cultivators just 'happening' to blunder into our path… It all looks like coincidence, but taken together, I doubt it's so simple."
Yuan Nan frowned. Stubborn as he could be, he valued Song Yuanchi's role as the sect's strategist. And now that Song had said it, he too recalled something.
"So you think the situation here isn't as secret as we thought? Now that you mention it, earlier today, I saw that bunch of scum from the Vermilion Hook Sect lurking nearby. I figured they were just passing through, but maybe not…"
"The Vermilion Hook Sect? Their assassination arts are unmatched in the world! You don't mean—"
"Exactly. Of course, it could also be that bastard Hundred Ghosts. Here's what we'll do: step up the search for Xiao Zhongzi. I'll send word to the sect immediately and request at least two more Elders for support. Also, have Yuan Long and the others from the north return at once. As for what Spirit Bamboo said, it may not be reliable, so we'll need to verify it."
It was indeed a matter of "verification," but everyone present knew that with Spirit Bamboo's status, there was no chance his words were false. This was just Yuan Nan doing his due diligence.
The mood was heavy. Aside from Yuan Nan, everyone present was one of the Eighteen Nether Generals. They might not be able to run rampant across the world, but they were still opponents few could match. They were used to arrogance and dominance. When had they ever been the ones cut down like prey? And now, after just a few months, a full third of the Eighteen had been wiped out.
Song Yuanchi felt the loss as well, though he was more composed than most. Still, he frowned slightly, lowering his voice. "Great Elder, summoning all of the sect's elite here over this matter… might not be prudent. Why not let them—"
"Silence." A cold gleam flashed in Yuan Nan's narrow eyes, making Song Yuanchi's heart jolt. But Yuan Nan quickly reined in his anger, his ugly features settling into an expression ten times more unreadable than before.
"If we let them come, what could we possibly gain? The Xuanghai front is already under their control. Even this information about Xiao Zhongzi came from them. They're holding the advantage at every turn. If we can't grab some benefits ahead of time, we'll just be sticking our necks out for them to cut once the alliance is signed."
Song Yuanchi understood the logic, but he also knew the southeastern forest sea was likely far more complicated than Yuan Nan imagined. The reinforcements they called in might prove useless. Or worse, they might end up losing even more in the process.
He sighed inwardly. Then Yuan Nan said, "The Demon Thunder Monastery is also a critical location. We should send—"
"Great Elder!" Song Yuanchi cut him off, not caring if it seemed disrespectful. He forced a thin smile. "Haven't you heard. When the real appears false, and the false appears real…"
Halfway through, his gaze slid toward the two corpses lying on the sandbar.
Yuan Nan instantly caught his meaning. His own eyes flicked toward the bodies, and his expression darkened. After a long moment, he gave a single word: "Fine." He dropped the idea of sending people to guard the place, instead ordering the two dead Nether Generals to be taken away toward the far shore of the lake.
None of them knew that a pair of deep, shadowy eyes was watching them leave.