The Figurine

The Abyss Ruins. The Blood Lake stood fully revealed, its colossal waves surging tempestuously. Old Demon Ye sat cross-legged above the Blood Lake, flanked by Jiang Chenzi and two others who held treasured banners around him. Bloody mist permeated the surroundings, casting shadowy, indistinct silhouettes. To enter the Blood Lake, nearly half of the Sin Abyss’s Nascent Soul cultivators had rushed over, while the rest remained behind on the Tianxing Plateau to guard against threats. The Nascent Soul cultivators hovered in the void in loose groups of twos and threes; though they appeared scattered, their positions subtly aligned with a grand formation, assisting Old Demon Ye in cracking the Blood Lake's seal. With every shift in Old Demon Ye’s hand seals, Jiang Chenzi and the other two altered their formation accordingly. The three treasured banners shook, sending streak after streak of seven-colored light flying toward the Blood Lake, specifically targeting the weak points in the seal. Each bombardment caused the seal to shudder, growing more violent each time until the entire space trembled along with it. “Old Ye went to great pains to finally find the flaw in the seal. What a pity that the seal in the Abyss Ruins remains so intact; had we entered the Blood Prison from Wuya Valley, it would have been much easier,” Jiang Chenzi remarked, stealing a moment of leisure amidst his efforts. Behind him, a cultivator clad in white robes with the appearance of a handsome youth smiled faintly upon hearing this. “If we breached the Blood Prison from Wuya Valley, and ended up unable to find a way out from this side, wouldn't Martial Uncle be worried about being cornered inside by Daoist Zhenyi?” This person was actually Jiang Chenzi’s junior from the same sect, and a Nascent Soul cultivator as well. Over the past century, within the various major sects of the Sin Abyss, instances of two or three Nascent Soul cultivators emerging from a single sect had become a common sight. This generation of cultivators in the Sin Abyss had performed exceptionally well, producing far more Nascent Soul cultivators than ever before. As a result, the Sin Abyss’s strength had swelled tremendously, allowing them not only to hold their ground against the Two Domains Alliance, but also to have surplus strength to sweep through the desert. Before the white-robed youth could finish speaking, an abnormal tremor rippled across the Blood Lake. Yet at that moment, no light had been released from the treasured banners. Boom! A colossal wave surged toward the sky, and the barrier formed by the seal bulged outward along with it. Old Demon Ye snapped his eyes open, a sharp glint flashing within them. He pressed a hand downward to suppress the shockwave and snorted coldly. “That Demon King Mingyue truly passed word of the Blood Prison back. Our scheme has been exposed. It seems they want to lend us a hand and open the seal ahead of time.” “Daoist Zhenyi couldn't even defend his own homeland. Does he truly believe he can gain any advantage before Old Ye?” Jiang Chenzi asked in surprise. “It might not be Daoist Zhenyi; more likely, it is Tongyou. Wuya Valley is nominally controlled by the Xiaohan Realm. Daoist Zhenyi hardly acts like an unattached Daoist—he has spent his entire life toiling for the Celestial Alliance, so he certainly wouldn't dare abandon his post lest we lure the tiger from the mountain and trample Tianxing City in one fell swoop. With that red-haired old ghost fallen, the Xiaohan Realm isn't difficult to deal with. The only question is whether the Feather King will meddle in this.” Another cultivator surnamed Ma spoke up, astonishingly guessing the Two Domains Alliance's plan almost down to the details. His evaluation of Daoist Zhenyi was remarkably apt. Ever since Daoist Zhenyi had been chosen as the Alliance Leader of the Celestial Alliance, he had dispensed rewards and punishments fairly, nurtured the younger generation, and truly embodied the creed of giving his all until his dying day. The Celestial Alliance was a coalition formed of numerous factions. That it had been able to coalesce into an iron monolith and present a united front against external foes was partly due to outside pressure, but Daoist Zhenyi’s contributions were indispensable. People of such selfless magnanimity were not unheard of in the cultivation world, but most showed such devotion only toward the sect that had raised them. “Heh, perhaps Daoist Zhenyi is deliberately putting up a front to make us think they're entering the Blood Prison to compete with us, while secretly massing an army to counterattack while our front line is empty. All our previous gains might be wiped out in a single stroke.” A voice rang out from within the blood mist. The figure was blurred and indistinct, impossible to identify. Though this person spoke of dire consequences, his tone was casual, showing not the slightest hint of concern. Jiang Chenzi laughed heartily. “Then they would still have to get past Fellow Daoist Cang Hong, who is guarding the front lines... Even if Daoist Zhenyi manages to push through, there's nothing to fear. Once we return, we'll let them taste sorrow at the height of their joy!” “Enough idle chatter. Since the Daoists of the Two Domains Alliance are willing to lend us a hand, we cannot show weakness either. Everyone, assist me! Barring any unforeseen mishaps, we can breach the seal today.” Old Demon Ye let out a low bark and suddenly accelerated his movements. The others immediately fell silent, focusing all their efforts on assisting Old Demon Ye. *** Wuya Valley. The hostile factions were separated by far more than ten thousand li, yet they were joining forces to break the seal. After several hours of continuous bombardment, they finally forced open a fissure in the seal. Crash! A torrent of bloody water surged out from the fissure, reeking of thick gore. Qin Sang and the others all furrowed their brows, sealing off their breath, and turned their eyes toward Demon Monarch Tongyou and Dongyang Bo. “According to the records, each crimson wave connects to an isolated sealed space. Once we jump in, we will surely be scattered to different locations. When that happens, fellow Daoists, follow the remnant map, find the innermost position marked upon it, and rendezvous there as soon as possible. As long as we foil Old Demon Ye’s plot, there will be plenty of opportunities to hunt for treasures in the future. I only hope everyone prioritizes the bigger picture and does not delay.” After giving his instructions via voice transmission and conferring briefly with Dongyang Bo, Demon Monarch Tongyou leaped into the Blood Lake first. There was no need to vie over who went first. Qin Sang hung back at the very rear. Summoning his demonic banner to protect his body, he met a surge of crimson water and stepped into the Blood Lake. The Core Formation cultivators stirred restlessly. Only after all the Nascent Soul Patriarchs vanished into the Blood Lake did they dare make their move, frantically summoning their respective magic treasures before diving in. Once they had disappeared as well, the area outside the Blood Lake was completely deserted. More than half an hour later, a ripple suddenly disturbed the void, and a silhouette emerged from the shadows. Someone had actually rushed over at this time. This person was exceptionally cautious. After observing for a long time and confirming that no one else was present, he finally showed himself from the darkness. If anyone else had been nearby at this moment to see his face, they would have been astounded. The newcomer was a young man of striking elegance and otherworldly grace—none other than the current Palace Master of Shangyuan Qingjing Palace, Gongliang Yu! Shangyuan Qingjing Palace was counted among the prominent, prestigious sects, yet as its Palace Master, Gongliang Yu was only at the peak of the Core Formation stage. He was not qualified to participate in the schemes of Nascent Soul cultivators, but with his status, prying into inside information was not difficult. Gongliang Yu had intentionally arrived late, yet an eager urgency showed on his face. Flitting through the air above the Blood Lake, he was just about to enter when he suddenly remembered something. He drew an object from his sleeve—a small figurine only three inches tall. The figurine seemed to be carved from wood, yet its surface held a jade-like luster, making it seem not entirely like a woodcarving either, its material impossible to determine. The strangest thing about it was its head, which was smooth as a mirror, devoid of facial features or apertures; one could only tell front from back by a single item on its face. That was a delicate yellow talisman affixed to the center of its brow. As thin as gossamer, it clung lightly to the figurine, yet it adhered with incredible firmness. Inscribed with cinnabar in swift, serpentine strokes executed in a single breath, it was an intricate talisman. Aside from this, the figurine was merely an ordinary faceless statuette, exuding not the slightest trace of spiritual fluctuation. Yet as he gazed at the figurine in his hand, Gongliang Yu wore a solemn expression, his eyes tinged with a measure of fear and a measure of anticipation. He cradled the figurine gently in his palm. Worried that he might accidentally peel off the yellow paper on its face, Gongliang Yu moved with utmost delicacy. Then, with his other hand, he retrieved from his mustard seed bag a lush, dripping-green jade jue tied with red cord.