While Qin Sang and the others pitted their wits and courage against ferocious insects and bizarre beasts within the dense forest, in front of Heaven Tower...
Over a dozen figures stood quietly in the square. Their auras were concealed and their strange attire distinctly set them apart from the Human Clan; every one of them was a Nascent Soul Patriarch of the Witch Clan.
At their head was a white-haired old woman.
She wore the robes of the Grand Shaman, symbolizing the highest, most venerated status among the Witch Clan. Across the upper half of her face was a multicolored mask as thin as a cicada's wing, beneath which her exposed chin and lips were revealed to be extraordinarily rosy.
She looked up at Heaven Tower with a contemplative expression. After a moment, she suddenly turned toward empty space and said coldly, "The Demon Lord graces us with his presence, yet why hide away, too timid to show himself?"
At these words, the other Nascent Soul experts blanched, and a commotion immediately stirred.
"Hehe, the Grand Shaman's perception is keen indeed. I had concealed my breath with all my might, yet I still failed to hide from Fellow Daoist."
A hearty laugh echoed from the void. Then an uncanny light flared, and with a swift *whoosh*, a middle-aged man boldly landed before the crowd, revealing his figure.
This man was none other than the overlord of the demonic path whose renown shook the Canglang Sea—the Demon Lord!
Now that the Lunar Heavenly Ghost Divine Light had dispersed, not a shred of demonic energy could be detected from him, nor was there any malice or baleful aura. His gaze was calm and his bearing extraordinary, resembling an eminent Confucian scholar.
Yet the moment he appeared, every Witch Clan Nascent Soul expert assumed an expression as though confronting a mortal enemy.
Having his presence laid bare in a single sentence by the Grand Shaman seemed not to bother the Demon Lord in the least. He utterly disregarded the vigilance of the Witch Clan Nascent Soul experts and met the Grand Shaman's eyes on equal terms.
Only the old woman showed no change in expression. She gave him a searching look and said indifferently, "Fellow Daoist has already shown yourself once before, so naturally this old woman must be cautious. However, I have heard that the places truly concealing supreme treasures in the Hall of Seven Kills can only be entered and exited when it emerges on its own. Could there still be treasures left out here worthy of Fellow Daoist making a personal trip?"
The Demon Lord chuckled and spread his hands. "Why ask what you already know, Fellow Daoist? The Witch Clan put on a posture of sparing no cost to force our Human Clan to agree to share the Hall of Seven Kills, and then went through tremendous trouble to break the formation. How could we not be on guard? Alas, that old ghost of the Tiandao Sect is a slippery one. He claimed that an error in his cultivation technique gave him hidden injuries requiring secluded recuperation, leaving me no choice but to make this trip myself. I too am curious: in a place like the Hall of Seven Kills, which has practically been dug three feet into the ground over the years, what could possibly be worth such an effort on your part?"
The old woman sneered. "Whether Fellow Daoist Lingzhuzi's injuries are real or feigned, who can say? Even if you laid an inescapable dragnet outside the Hall of Seven Kills to ambush us, this old woman would not be the least bit surprised."
"Likewise, likewise..."
The Demon Lord laughed heartily. "Hasn't Fellow Daoist Fang also failed to show himself? I, too, feel deeply uneasy."
The old woman gave a cold huff. "So you are determined to follow this old woman?"
The Demon Lord smiled without answering.
"Since Fellow Daoist insists on following, it is inconvenient for this old woman to stop you. Let us each rely on our own abilities, then."
The old woman withdrew her gaze, ignoring the Demon Lord, and addressed the others: "Fellow Daoists, your tasks have long been assigned. I shall say no more. Success or failure hinges on this single endeavor—move out!"
At these words, the Witch Clan Nascent Soul experts dispersed at once, darting in different directions. The flight speed of Nascent Soul Patriarchs was evident; in an instant, like scattering celestial flowers, they vanished into the depths of the mountains.
The old woman, meanwhile, entered Heaven Tower alone.
The Demon Lord had not expected the Witch Clan to split their forces on such a grand scale.
*Is the old crone putting on a smokescreen, or are they truly searching for something?*
After a moment's hesitation, an uncanny light surged in the Demon Lord's palm, separating into several wisps that similarly flew into the deep mountains. Then, he followed right behind the old woman into Heaven Tower.
After a brief spell of commotion, silence returned outside Heaven Tower.
Only after a long while did figures begin peeking out from the nearby hilltops. They had secretly observed the confrontation between the Demon Lord and the Grand Shaman, and fortunately, neither of the two had paid them any heed.
Some hesitated before choosing to leave, while others gritted their teeth and charged inside.
***
"Follow this river forward."
In the jungle.
Because the merchant alliance had prepared thoroughly, Qin Sang and his companions remained entirely unscathed.
Xiang Yi led them to the bank of a river.
This river was exceedingly bizarre. The wide water's surface was choked with purple algae, and even the river water itself was purple. Such a great river wound through the dense forest, its origin unknown.
The purple water gurgled as it flowed. The purple algae blocked their view, and beneath the deep, shadowy surface, nothing could be seen.
The river gave them an ominous feeling, and they all kept as far from the bank as possible. The ferocious insects and bizarre beasts in the jungle had already left a deep impression on them.
For a river to look so peculiar, it was bound to be a perilous place!
"This is that legendary Purple River!"
The face of the cultivator surnamed Pan suddenly turned unsightly, made all the stranger by the mask embedded in his face.
"Following the Purple River upstream leads straight into the most dangerous place in this jungle—an expanse shrouded in purple toxic mist, crowned with the terrifying title of the Purple Mist Deathland, which has swallowed countless cultivators' lives. Fellow Daoist Xiang, you don't intend to lead us into the Purple Mist Deathland, do you?"
The cultivator surnamed Pan glared, demanding an answer.
Hearing this, the others also looked shocked, halting in their tracks and staring at Xiang Yi.
The Purple Mist Deathland was one of the most perilous regions in the Hall of Seven Kills, also known as one of its Three Great Poisonlands. Seniors had cautioned later generations never to set foot in these places.
None of them had anticipated that the merchant alliance would send them to such an area.
With their cultivation levels, whether they could withstand the erosion of the toxic mist upon entering the Purple Mist Deathland remained completely unknown, let alone the omnipresent dangers lurking within.
Going there was courting death; completing the mission would be out of the question.
Unruffled, Xiang Yi nodded. "Now that we have arrived here, I will no longer beat around the bush. The alliance has commanded that we must enter the Purple Mist Deathland. To that end, the Alliance Leader bestowed upon me a rare poison-warding treasure that he crafted personally. As long as we do not penetrate the innermost core of the Purple Mist Deathland, we can easily resist the toxic mist with this treasure. Therefore, there is no need for you to worry, Fellow Daoists."
The Liu couple frowned. "It seems seniors who ventured into the Purple Mist Deathland mentioned that the toxicity of the mist changes. However, Fellow Daoist Xiang, let us state our terms beforehand: if, after entering the Purple Mist Deathland, that magic treasure shows signs of being unable to withstand the toxic mist, we must abandon the mission and withdraw. We have no desire to die in there without rhyme or reason."
The others nodded in succession.
They had known all along that the merchant alliance's mission would not be simple, yet they had never imagined being sent to such a perilous place.
A thought stirred in Qin Sang's mind: could the fat silkworm's poison-warding armor withstand this toxic mist?
Previously, he had only tested it on Demon Core stage beasts.
After its metamorphosis, the fat silkworm's poison-warding armor could easily defend against the virulent venom of Great Demons.
However, that was venom bred by beasts, which was bound to differ from a rare poison born of heaven and earth like the purple mist.
Xiang Yi dismissed their concerns casually. "The merchant alliance went through so much trouble and made so many preparations—could it be just to harm us? Rest assured, Fellow Daoists. I know what I am doing; if a matter proves impossible, I will not force it."
Chapter 748