Unlike the Wither-Bloom True Intent, the Fire Origin was merely the most fundamental law true intent within the laws of fire.
Consequently, after comprehending the Fire Origin, Luo Chen had never derived any formidable divine abilities related to it.
Yet this hardly meant the Fire Origin brought no enhancement to his strength!
His magic power had grown increasingly domineering and vast, at one point matching Qingshuang's spatial-law-infused magic power blow for blow.
His mastery over various flames had also become ever more seamless; surviving within the Nether Sea through the extensive summoning of Wither-Bloom Divine Fire was clear proof of that.
Moreover, there was another crucial benefit: the boosting effect the Fire Origin granted to ordinary spells!
Luo Chen had discovered this unique trait when he first comprehended the Dao.
The ordinary fire-attribute spells he cast now received a tremendous amplification, effectively doubling in might.
In particular, Tier 4 fire arts he had cultivated to the Great Perfection stage—such as Prairie Blaze of the Fire Phoenix and Descent of the Flame Dragon—bordered on true divine abilities once infused with the Fire Origin.
That was precisely how a single spell had swept away six Ghost Sovereigns earlier!
Yet after rushing up Mount Yanfu, that Prairie Blaze of the Fire Phoenix had failed to slay the final Ghost Sovereign; instead, it had been broken by someone.
Even with its power significantly depleted, it should not have been dispelled so easily.
Therefore, that Great Ghost Sovereign was by no means an ordinary foe!
"It's a Wang ghost!" an astonished voice called from behind him.
Luo Chen glanced back to see shock written all over Bai Meiling's face.
Sensing his gaze, she immediately explained, "Among our ghost cultivators, there exist exceptionally powerful beings known as Chi, Mei, Wang, and Liang—entities that have forged innate ghostly bodies through post-natal cultivation. Beings of this caliber no longer fear ordinary supreme yang and unyielding forces; in essence, they are no different from living cultivators possessing physical flesh. Their renown spreads far and wide, to the point where even mortal legends speak of them. And that figure just now was undeniably a Wang ghost among the four!"
Intrigued, Luo Chen asked, "How do you distinguish the Chi, Mei, Wang, and Liang?"
"A Chi ghost bears a human face and a beast's body. A Mei ghost takes form from tree spirits and vegetation. A Wang ghost is the essence of Xuan Water. A Liang ghost resembles an infant child," Bai Meiling explained briefly, then added, "That being earlier radiated immense moisture, possessing a body condensed from Ming Water True Essence. Ming Water is so foul and corrupting that even grand cultivators like you, Master, avoid it at all costs. Yet he was able to condense a body from it. He must be a Wang ghost!"
With this explanation, things clicked into place for everyone.
A look of contemplation crossed Luo Chen's face. He now understood how the other party had countered his Prairie Blaze of the Fire Phoenix.
If the ghost's body was condensed from Ming Water True Essence, then the elemental opposition between water and fire—combined with the spell's already weakened state—truly allowed it to be neutralized with ease.
"Master, an entity like that will not be easy to deal with! Besides, I can sense quite a few powerful Ghost Sovereigns gathered above. If there are others among them comparable to that Wang ghost, with our current strength..." Bai Meiling murmured anxiously.
She trailed off, but the dread in her voice was unmistakable to all.
For a moment, all eyes turned toward Luo Chen.
Deng Taiyue hesitated before speaking up. "Mount Yanfu sits right here; it isn't going anywhere. Why not pull back and reconsider our approach? At worst, we can return to the Eastern Desolation cultivation world, gather a few good friends, and return to claim the treasures."
This was the prudent course, and the others nodded in agreement.
And yet!
Luo Chen smiled.
He paced forward to the tiger's head, gazing into the distance toward the heights above.
"Everyone has expended considerable strength along the way. If a battle breaks out shortly, casualties are all but inevitable. You need not intervene. Brother Deng, you remain in fighting shape, so please protect my sect members. As for the rest... leave them to me!"
Deng Taiyue stared blankly.
The others froze as well, nearly convinced their ears had deceived them.
There were not merely one or two Ghost Sovereigns up there; they numbered at least twenty, perhaps even thirty or more.
Across the vast Netherworld Abyss, half of the Tier 4 Ghost Sovereigns had likely congregated in this very spot.
And Luo Chen intended to face them all alone?
Was this not utter arrogance?
Deng Taiyue swallowed hard. He had witnessed Qingshuang's methods firsthand; that woman was hailed as the foremost figure beneath the Deity Transformation realm, and the prowess she displayed fully lived up to her renown.
Yet even if Qingshuang were here in person, she would hardly emerge unscathed.
Even if rumors claimed Luo Chen had fought Qingshuang to a standstill, he could not possibly surpass her by much. Where did he draw such boundless confidence?
"Little Bai, hand over the Soul Refining Banner!"
Luo Chen beckoned with a hand, and the banner—which housed a hundred thousand souls and had advanced to the level of a Fierce Soul Banner—flew directly into his grasp.
With a flick of his fingers, he tapped several seal arts onto the fabric.
In doing so, without disturbing Bai Meiling's imprint, Luo Chen—the banner's original master—could once again command it.
"Follow behind me!"
Speaking, Luo Chen parted the drifting mists and stepped onto the white jade plaza.
Seated atop the White Tiger puppet, the others flew up right behind him.
Thud!
The four paws struck the ground with a resounding crash.
The first sights to greet them were three towering, ancient palaces.
Tianming, Tianyuan, and Tianze—the three Yanfu Heavenly Palaces.
And before Tianming Palace, where Ancestor Yuming, the former master of the Mingyuan Sect, once resided, gathered a dense swarm of ghostly silhouettes.
Amidst the shifting, indistinct forms, there were no fewer than thirty.
In that instant, every single specter cast an eerie, frigid gaze in their direction.
A crushing pressure, almost tangible in its weight, crashed over them like a wave.
The weaker among them, such as the Golden Core cultivator Min Longyu, were powerless to resist; with a dull thud, he slumped onto the puppet's back.
"Brother Deng?"
Luo Chen called out from ahead.
Deng Taiyue snapped back to his senses and immediately unfurled his Xuanhuang Great Seal, casting a barrier of light that shielded the group.
"My apologies, I was careless!"
Deng Taiyue inhaled deeply, thoroughly shaken.
Those ghostly entities were directing their true pressure at Luo Chen, who walked alone at the front.
The stray glances cast toward the rest of the group were merely residual spillover.
Yet just that slight sliver of attention had nearly shattered their composure. He had fared somewhat better, but Lingfengzi and the others were in a far more wretched state, their faces deathly pale and their eyes vacant.
By contrast, Fairy Canglong, whom he had assumed was the weakest, snapped out of her daze after only a brief trance.
'Her divine soul is quite formidable!'
Such was Deng Taiyue's assessment of Canglong.
However!
Compared to Luo Chen bearing the brunt of the pressure at the very front, Canglong's divine soul foundation was utterly insignificant.
'At the foot of the mountain earlier, a fleeting glance made me suspect Luo Chen's divine soul foundation was exceptionally profound. Seeing it now, that was no illusion. It is vastly deeper than I ever imagined—vast as the open sea!'
'Could he have already coalesced a nascent spirit?'
The thought sprang unbidden into Deng Taiyue's mind.
Yet an instant later, he shook his head to banish the notion.
A nascent spirit transformed divine sense into pure thought; a single thought comprised the cosmic number of one hundred twenty-nine thousand six hundred divine senses, extraordinarily condensed and terrifyingly potent.
Above, it could manipulate boundless worldly essence qi; below, it could fathom mortal minds and pierce through reality and illusion.
As strong as Luo Chen's divine soul was, it had not reached that divine realm.
Yet precisely because of that, Deng Taiyue was all the more awestruck by the sheer depth of Luo Chen's soul foundation.
Right then, a commotion stirred among the Ghost Sovereigns gathered near Tianming Palace.
Several attacks burst forth without warning.
Some manifested as ghastly skeletal hands, others spread outward as rolling black clouds, while piercing sonic shrieks surged forth like crashing tides.
Yet before this barrage, the man in the feather robe stepped through subtle, profound footwork, weaving past the attacks one after another without so much as a speck of dust brushing his garments.
On the rare occasion an attack appeared to land, it struck nothing of substance, slipping aside as though deflected by a slight displacement.
Even the screeching sonic waves vanished like mud oxen sinking into the sea upon touching him, fluttering past like a gentle breeze without causing him the slightest distress.
At this bizarre display, an uproar broke out among the ghost cultivators.
Watching Luo Chen advance step by step without the slightest hesitation, sharp questions rang out one after another.
"Who are you?"
"This is territory claimed first by us ghosts of the Netherworld. Human cultivator, withdraw at once!"
"Take another step, and do not blame us for being ruthless!"
Luo Chen raised his eyes. Though he looked upward, he somehow gave the impression of peering down at the gathering of specters from on high.
"I am the former Master of the Mingyuan Alchemy Saint Hall, and now the Supreme Elder of the Luotian Sect—Luo Chen! This Mount Yanfu rightfully belongs to me. You trespass in my home, yet dare interrogate me?"
A successor of the Mingyuan Sect?
Master of the Alchemy Saint Hall?
The ghost cultivators exchanged glances, deeply skeptical.
Yet among them, several formidable Ghost Sovereigns wore expressions of doubtful hesitation.
They had once devoured the freshly transformed ghosts of fallen Mingyuan Nascent Soul True Persons, gleaning scattered memory fragments in the process.
Among those memories, there truly seemed to have been such a figure.
Yet with supreme treasures right before them, how could they yield without a fight?
"Kill him!"
It was unclear who shouted first, but a chorus of roars instantly answered.
Several silhouettes plunged from above, hurtling straight toward Luo Chen.
This was the simplest and most direct method of attack for a ghost cultivator.
A physical pounce with a ghostly form could rip the living soul right out of a mortal shell.
Facing this onslaught, Luo Chen did not break his stride. He did not even bother to cast a spell or brandish a magic treasure, allowing them to close the distance unchecked.
Such flagrant arrogance drew cold sneers from the ghost cultivators.
Yet in the next heartbeat, a sight that made their jaws drop unfolded before their eyes.
The moment those figures reached Luo Chen, they froze dead in their tracks, entirely paralyzed.
Then, the man unfurled a black banner with casual ease, sweeping all five Ghost Sovereigns straight inside.
"This..."
"How is that possible?"
"An illusion technique!"
A resonant voice boomed from deep within the ranks, laying bare the nature of Luo Chen's technique in a single breath.
Only then did the specters look closer and notice Luo Chen's eyes blazing with brilliant golden light.
A mere glance from afar sent their minds reeling uncontrollably, giving rise to boundless illusions.
They hastily bowed their heads to steady their spirits, only then gradually tearing themselves free of the mesmerizing trance.
"Do not meet his gaze! The illusion invoked by those eyes is beyond your power to resist!"
That same resonant voice barked another warning.
On the plaza, Luo Chen—having just captured five Ghost Sovereigns—turned his golden eyes toward the horde upon hearing the voice.
Not a single one dared meet his gaze!
Yet deep within the crowd, an ancient, turbid stare was peering coldly in his direction.
The moment their eyes met, Mirror Flower Water Moon unfurled once more!
That ancient, turbid gaze instantly glazed over, yet regained its clarity a brief instant later.
Luo Chen raised a brow. Peering straight through the withered Ghost Sovereign's form, understanding dawned upon him.
'Two souls sharing a single body—the Mother-Son Ghost Fiend. No wonder my illusion technique had no hold.'
At the same time, another voice chimed in beside the withered old woman.
"True Person Luo, your divine soul is of a strength this concubine has never before witnessed. Yet fueling an illusion technique of such caliber must exact an enormous toll on your magic power and spirit. Before your power runs dry, you may not necessarily succeed in slaughtering us all."
Luo Chen looked toward the speaker. A dainty, slender figure stood sheltered beneath a red paper umbrella.
"How should I address you?"
"Huan Youji."
The red umbrella tilted slightly, revealing eyes as clear as autumn waters that met Luo Chen's gaze for a fleeting breath before she bashfully lowered her lids, letting the umbrella fall once more.
Though it was merely a fleeting glimpse, the breathtaking, realm-toppling beauty revealed in that instant was enough to ensnare any heart.
Yet Luo Chen remained utterly unmoved. A skeleton painted in pink flesh, nothing more; what breathtaking beauty was there to speak of?
His gaze swept past the Mother-Son Ghost Fiend, Huan Youji, and two other figures concealed deep within the crowd whose auras rivaled grand cultivators. He had taken their full measure.
Luo Chen projected his voice across the plaza. "What do you propose?"
Huan Youji spoke in a sultry cadence. "Simple! The Mingyuan Sect is ruined, and your title carries no weight here; we all stand on equal footing. Why not wait patiently for Tianming Palace to unseal? Once the Ming Water Springhead fully coalesces, each of us may compete by our own prowess. What say you?"
Luo Chen dismissed the proposal with blatant contempt.
"Equal? On what grounds do you believe you are worthy of standing on equal footing with me?"
"True Person Luo, you are far too arrogant!" the Mother-Son Ghost Fiend rasped in a low, grating tone.
"Arrogant, yet backed by absolute confidence!"
Luo Chen made no secret of his disdain. The sleeves of his feather robe whipped violently without any wind.
A boundless aura surged skyward, free of any restraint.
Not only that, but a Nascent Soul domain rolled outward with him at its center, bringing the Senluo Fire Prison back into the mortal world.
He intended to battle dozens of equal-tier Ghost Sovereigns single-handedly!
Such brazen insolence infuriated the assembled ghosts.
One after another, they unleashed their ghost domains—the Nascent Soul domains unique to ghost cultivators.
Such a domain was something only Ghost King-tier specters could begin to manifest.
Yet to truly command it with fluid mastery required the cultivation of a Tier 4 Ghost Sovereign.
Numerous ghost domains surged forth to contend with the Senluo Fire Prison, yet because the ghosts were packed so tightly together, their domains clashed against one another, weakening their collective strength considerably.
Far from overwhelming the Senluo Fire Prison, they found themselves groaning under immense pressure.
Seizing the moment, Luo Chen took a decisive stride forward.
Boom!
The void detonated with a deafening roar.
Luo Chen charged like a tiger into a flock of sheep, thrusting out massive palms that carried true flames in their wake.
Wreaths of verdant fire twined through his every movement; any Ghost Sovereign brushed by even a spark shrieked in agony.
"Watch out!"
"These flames are bizarre—they harbor terrifying vitality that erodes our ghostly qi!"
"Scatter at once!"
The Ghost Sovereigns scrambled apart in a panic, desperate to put distance between themselves and Luo Chen.
Yet scattering played directly into Luo Chen's design.
Forming hand seals with both hands simultaneously, his magic power surged forth like an uncontainable flood.
A flame dragon and a fire phoenix manifested nearly in unison, sweeping across the surrounding space with majestic, devastating momentum.
The Ghost Sovereigns scrambled to mount defenses, yet their efforts yielded pathetic results.
Luo Chen snorted softly, unsurprised by the outcome.
Though the Ghost Sovereigns gathered here roughly matched the numbers of the monk contingent sent by the Hanging Temple, they were nothing more than a disorganized mob.
Furthermore, having been suppressed in the Netherworld Abyss for a millennium, most of their protective treasures had long since been corroded by Ming Water.
The only asset they possessed worthy of note was their pure divine soul foundation.
Yet his own soul foundation was more than ten times that of an ordinary grand cultivator; in a one-on-one contest, he feared nothing.
Even facing many at once, the overwhelming advantage remained squarely his.
A sky-blotting red umbrella plunged downward to trap him, but Luo Chen flicked his wrist and unleashed a slash.
Riiip!
A massive tear split straight down the center of the umbrella.
Huan Youji's eyes widened in horror, and she retreated frantically.
A sorrowful, weeping soul-wail struck toward Luo Chen's sea of consciousness, yet it was barred at the perimeter, unable to disturb his focus in the slightest. Instead, the Mother-Son Ghost Fiend suffered a ferocious backlash from his Hell-Suppressing Soul Technique, her form showing signs of imminent collapse.
From the left and right, a ghostly palm slammed down while iron chains lashed out to bind him.
Luo Chen neither dodged nor parried. Sword qi erupted from his entire frame, coalescing into a raging tempest of sword qi that dissolved both ferocious strikes into nothingness.
Gripping the Yuantu Sword, he looked upon the host of Ghost Sovereigns with pure derision.
"A ragtag rabble, yet you dare try to halt a chariot like mantises?"
In that breath, the entire gathering was struck dumb by Luo Chen's sheer dominance.
Right at that moment!
Creak! Creak! Creak!
Everyone whipped their heads around. The grand gates of Tianming Palace, sealed shut for decades, were slowly groaning open.
The instant the faintest crack appeared, a beam of nether light shot ahead of everyone else, darting straight inside.
Recognizing the figure, Huan Youji shrieked, "The Wang Ghost Sovereign!"
It was none other than the Great Ghost Sovereign who had traded blows with Luo Chen's group from afar moments before.
Chapter 1002