"The path ends here."
After flying for a while, the Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect group halted midair—the route marked on the map terminated at this point. From here on, they would have to rely on themselves.
"We need to descend and investigate," Ning Bowen said, gazing down at the thick, swirling miasma below. He carefully rolled up the map, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Once we find the passage into the valley, we'll locate the sacred ground where the immortal herbs are cultivated."
"I'll scout ahead," Qing Lan volunteered.
She stepped forward, hovering in midair. Behind her, two pairs of Qing Luan wings unfurled gently as nine soul rings—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, black—rose beneath her feet.
As her seventh soul ring blazed, her graceful human form vanished, replaced by a majestic Qing Luan.
"Eighth soul skill—Azure Heaven, Cloud Sea, Soundless Dust!"
A terrifying surge of soul power erupted. The air compressed violently, and a vortex twisted the surrounding miasma and toxic fog into a vacuum-like void beneath the forest canopy.
But to Qing Lan's shock, once she'd drawn the toxins away, the miasma layer showed no sign of thinning—not even a gap remained.
"This…"
Qing Lan stared, dumbfounded.
"That's enough, Sister Qing," Yang Zihan said, stepping beside her. At Yang Zihan's subtle nod, Qing Lan obediently released her hold, allowing the miasma to seep back into the clouds.
Yang Zihan turned to Ning Bowen. "Bowen, the Jade Phosphor Absolute Seven Flowers are fire-resistant. We must first reach a zone with only miasma—then burn our way through."
"Understood." Ning Bowen wasn't surprised. He turned to Wu Yan—already in martial soul manifestation—standing nearby. "Uncle Yan, we'll need your help."
"Leave it to me."
Wu Yan's aged voice rang out. Without hesitation, he activated his martial soul true body. A colossal Crimson Dragon materialized above the forest, its wings stirring waves of heat that warped the air. Ancient, regal eyes surveyed the miasma below with sovereign disdain.
"Old Bai," Wu Yan rumbled, "protect the Sect Master and the others."
"Consider it done."
Bai Sheng's usual gentle smile vanished. His jowls tightened with resolve as a golden cauldron appeared in his palms—its surface studded with seven shimmering silver stars: his martial soul, the Heavenly Star Furnace.
With a low chant, he channeled soul power. The cauldron swelled into a massive barrier, encasing Ning Bowen, Ning Tian, and Chen Junting. The lid sealed shut, isolating them from the outside world.
Assured, the Crimson Dragon reared back and unleashed a deafening roar. A torrent of dragonfire erupted from its maw, a pillar of crimson flame tearing through the sky. The miasma churned violently under the inferno's heat, parting to reveal a clear path downward.
"Let's go!" Yang Zihan dove.
The other Grand Elders followed instantly.
As they descended, they noticed the miasma rushing back to fill the gap at an alarming rate. Even Wu Yan's Level 95 cultivation—and his fire's natural advantage—couldn't permanently suppress the toxic clouds.
Once landed, the seven Title Douluos erected a joint soul power barrier around the group. The miasma here was less dense than above, and their combined might was more than sufficient for protection.
But something else caught their attention: the vegetation.
Yang Zihan's eyes widened in alarm. Every plant around them—vibrant, iridescent—was lethally toxic. Below Soul Saint rank, mere contact meant instant death. Even their soul power barrier was slowly corroding.
The damage was subtle—but undeniable.
Realizing this, they knew they couldn't linger. They had to find the immortal herb grove—now.
After Wu Yan reverted to human form, the group pressed onward toward the valley's approximate location—Wu Yan clearing the path with every step. Dragonfire reduced toxic flora to ash.
As they advanced, grim sights emerged: skeletal remains of soul beasts, their bones stained in the same rainbow hues as the miasma—victims of the poison.
Chen Junting and Ning Tian stayed close behind the elders, not daring to fall behind. Under Ning Bowen's orders, they meticulously mapped their route.
Then—Chen Junting froze.
Not far ahead lay a human corpse, its flesh dyed in the miasma's signature rainbow colors.
But something was wrong.
Humans were far more fragile than soul beasts.
Yet the beasts' bones were corroded—while this human body remained intact?
The unnatural preservation sent a chill down Chen Junting's spine.
"Master—look over there."
He called out to Ye Xuanji, drawing everyone's attention.
"What is it, Junting?" Ye Xuanji followed his gaze. They'd been scanning for threats—but hadn't scrutinized the dead.
When they saw the unnaturally preserved corpse, their expressions darkened. As the frontline defenders against the miasma, they knew better than anyone how potent these toxins were. This corpse defied all logic.
"Investigate," Ning Bowen ordered, eyes sharp with urgency. Their mission was too critical for surprises.
A vine of emerald light shot out—Zhi Yong's plant-based martial soul—wrapping around the corpse's waist. Instantly, the rainbow toxins swarmed the vine like a flood seeking a channel.
Zhi Yong channeled green energy into it, using his soul's vitality to expel the poison. With a sharp tug, he reeled the body into their barrier.
Yang Zihan knelt, examining it swiftly. "This corpse died about ten days ago. Besides the miasma's rainbow toxin… there's another poison. But…"
Her brow furrowed, face paling.
Ning Tian, seeing her mother's distress, asked anxiously, "Mom—but what?"
"Nothing," Yang Zihan shook her head, forcing a reassuring smile before turning grave. "I've never seen this other toxin… or perhaps it isn't a toxin at all."
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