A moment later, the Grand Shaman suddenly drew upon her divine glyphs and reached toward the stone pillar. The pillar flashed with light, its runes dancing as wondrous visions surfaced, only to fade away in the next instant.
Undeterred, the Grand Shaman tried time and again, and with each attempt, the pillar's radiance lingered longer.
The joy on everyone's faces deepened.
Old Devil Fang hovered quietly to the side, making no sound to disturb her.
She alternated between making attempts and standing still in deep comprehension as time slowly slipped by.
After a long while, the Grand Shaman's gaze sharpened slightly with a spark of realization. Her hands flew through a series of hand seals, sending out streaks of incantation seals that sank into the eight stone pillars all at once.
In an instant, pillars of light soared toward the ceiling.
The entire stone hall was illuminated, as bright as day.
Strange ripples emanated from the eight pillars and converged toward the center of the formation. Yet before long, the glow abruptly dimmed, appearing on the verge of fading away once more.
The Grand Shaman froze for a second, let out a soft exclamation of surprise, and swiftly shifted her seals. Channeling divine glyphs in full force, she drove the formation with all her might.
At last, the formation stabilized, and the fluctuations within the ring of stone pillars grew increasingly pronounced.
By this time, the others seemed to sense something, and their expressions grew strange.
"How could it be...?"
Before the words had finished falling, the formation was fully activated. A luminous array made of soft, moonlight-like radiance appeared upon the stone platform, glittering brilliantly.
Seeing the full array, even the Grand Shaman was taken aback.
The crowd exchanged glances, expressions bewildered.
An elder could not help blurting out, "A teleportation formation! There's no mistake—it's definitely a teleportation formation! How could there be one here? Where does it lead?"
What the Grand Shaman had activated was actually a teleportation formation!
On Witch God Mountain, there was a teleportation formation that led to the Demon Sea. Although the two formations looked vastly different, both possessed the distinct spatial fluctuations unique to teleportation formations.
No one had anticipated that an ancient Witch Clan teleportation formation would be hidden here.
Sealed by restrictions outside and protected by two layers of sealing arrays within—had all that been merely to seal this one teleportation formation?
It felt too bizarre, and no one could fathom the reason.
"Those seals were likely meant to conceal its existence," the Grand Shaman mused. "There is no telling whether the Witch Clan and the human race were friends or foes in ancient times. This place lies in the heart of a human sect's grounds; our ancestors may have set up so many precautions outside the teleportation formation simply to keep the humans from discovering it..."
The crowd nodded inwardly; her conjecture made good sense.
Countless years had passed; the truth was lost to time.
Where did this teleportation formation lead?
Could it connect to another cultivation world, similar to the Demon Sea?
At that thought, several elders grew excited. A new cultivation world represented greater hope—perhaps the chance to reach Soul Formation, or to find another branch of the Witch Clan's descendants, or at the very least, an abundance of resources.
Seeing through their thoughts, Old Devil Fang gave a cold sneer. "Don't get ahead of yourselves. The teleportation formation is inside the Hall of Seven Kills. With our strength, wresting the hall away from the humans is impossible. Even if this does lead to a new cultivation world, we could only slip back and forth once every several decades. Besides, I sense this formation can't send anyone very far..."
The pressing question was what lay on the other side, and whether danger awaited.
Old Devil Fang hovered motionlessly, looking completely unconcerned.
If one stepped through into a fatal peril, there might not even be a chance to return.
He would never scout ahead for others when there was no certainty of safety.
At that moment, an elder stepped forward and patted the spirit beast bag at his waist, summoning a spirit beast at the Demon Core stage.
"Whether there is danger on the other side, we will know at once."
With that, the elder ordered the beast to leap onto the platform.
The Grand Shaman took out several mid-grade spirit stones and activated the teleportation formation.
With a flash of light, the beast vanished into thin air.
The crowd's eyes fell upon the spirit stones, only to notice that very little spiritual power had been drained from them.
"The transmission distance is very short. It likely doesn't leave the Hall of Seven Kills, leading to some secret realm inside," the Grand Shaman deduced.
Before she could finish, the elder suddenly paled, letting out a muffled groan.
Under everyone's startled gazes, he swallowed a medicinal pill. As color slowly returned to his cheeks, he exhaled a long breath and gasped in horror, "My spirit beast is dead!"
Shock rippled through the group. "It died the instant it arrived on the other side?"
The elder nodded gravely.
This chilled the others to the bone.
This elder was skilled in beast taming, and the creatures he trained were formidable. That beast was in the Demon Core stage and adept in evasion techniques, yet it had not survived even a brief moment.
They looked at one another in silence.
Having finally uncovered traces left by their Witch Clan ancestors, they had to investigate the other side no matter what.
Yet who would scout the path?
"Grand Shaman, this old man faces a great tribulation in a few years, and I harbor little hope of surviving it. Dying here is no great loss, and doing something for our clan before I perish would be a worthy end. I never established a sect of my own. If I fail to return, I have a few descendants whom I hope you can watch over on my behalf."
An old man stepped forward, speaking in a solemn voice.
The Grand Shaman replied solemnly, "Rest assured, Fellow Daoist Wan. I will take them to Witch God Mountain to cultivate in peace."
The old man surnamed Wan nodded, stepped onto the platform, and activated the teleportation formation.
The crowd began an agonizing wait.
Before long, the teleportation formation flared with light. Relief washed over the group, but the sight of the old man filled them with alarm.
The skin on his face had somehow turned pitch-black, trailing wisps of faint dark mist, and his aura was frail.
Noticing something amiss, a grey-robed cultivator darted forward immediately. After a swift check, he brought out a bottle of elixir pills and administered one.
"Fellow Daoist Wan has been poisoned!" the grey-robed cultivator said in a low voice.
The old man nodded his thanks, then sat cross-legged to refine the medicinal efficacy, gradually forcing out the residual poison bit by bit until his complexion finally began to improve.
"No wonder your spirit beast died the instant it crossed," the old man surnamed Wan said with a wry smile. "The other side is a deathland steeped in deadly poison, permeated with a colorless and odorless venom. Even I was caught off guard and succumbed. Sensing something wrong, I took the detoxification pills I had on hand, but they had little effect against such virulent toxin. I had no choice but to return for help before I could take a closer look. From what I could tell, aside from the poison, there shouldn't be any other dangers. Still, everyone must remain vigilant. If the venom sinks too deep, even Nascent Soul cultivators like us might meet our ends there!"
Hearing this, the Grand Shaman and Old Devil Fang exchanged a look.
Old Devil Fang let out an eerie chuckle. "If I'm not mistaken, the other side must be the Secluded Valley. Who would have thought this teleportation formation connects to the Inner Hall? The humans have monopolized the Inner Hall for so long, but now we can claim a share of the spoils as well."
The Grand Shaman hummed in agreement. "Of the three great poisonous lands in the Hall of Seven Kills, the Purple Mist Deathland is shrouded in purple mist, and the Flower Immortal Lake is choked with toxic algae—both lie in the Outer Hall. What's more, unless one reaches their deepest cores, neither possesses venom potent enough to strike down a Nascent Soul cultivator immediately and prove so difficult to resist. Only the Secluded Valley of the Inner Hall is rumored to be filled with colorless, odorless poison that catches everyone off guard."
Chapter 1048