Excitement

This was the Great Rift Valley Xiang Yi had mentioned before, sprawling across the path ahead and cutting off any further progress. The rift was exceedingly deep, its far end lost to sight and its opposite bank invisible. An endless tide of purple mist surged up from below, creating an ascending draft. Down there was very likely the source of the toxic mist. A wisp of Nine Nether Demonic Fire flickered in Qin Sang's palm, its flame pointing directly into the rift. Qin Sang crouched down and leaned forward slightly. A sudden gust of air rushed at his face. Under the impact, the poison-warding armor covering his body actually began to tremble. Startled, Qin Sang hurriedly pulled back and looked at the fat silkworm with some concern. They were still merely above the rift, yet the poison-warding armor was already shuddering. If he wished to seek the spiritual fire, he would inevitably have to climb down the cliff face, constantly braving the onslaught of the toxic mist. The mist below would be even more terrifying. If the fat silkworm failed to hold out, he might not even have a chance to flee. Fortunately, the fat silkworm showed no sign of strain. It opened its mouth and spat out a halo of light. The poison-warding armor on Qin Sang thickened by a layer, and he was once again safe and sound. "Be sharper next time!" Qin Sang glared at the fat silkworm, let out a breath of relief, and leaned outward once more. The fat silkworm blinked its beady eyes, looking a bit aggrieved. This time, when the purple mist slammed against the poison-warding armor, it was firmly barred from entering. Qin Sang leaned over and peered downward. Noticing that the cliff face was not smooth as a mirror but rugged and uneven, offering plenty of handholds and footholds, he gave an inward nod of approval. Recklessly riding a flying sword straight down into the depths of the rift was definitely out of the question; plunging at high speed could easily startle vicious beasts. The Purple Mist Deathland teemed with vicious beasts that had adapted to the toxic mist, and the rift was surely no exception. Without question, the closer one drew to the source of the poison, the stronger those beasts would be. He recalled Xiang Yi saying that some suspected beasts comparable to Transformation stage great demons lurked in the rift's depths. Qin Sang stood at the edge for a short while, straining his ears. Apart from the rushing whoosh of the swirling toxic mist, he heard no cries of beasts. Down below lay utter silence. He walked some distance to the left and to the right along the rim, discovering that every section looked identical. The bottom was an indistinct haze of chaos; dropping down from any spot would make no difference. After a moment's contemplation, Qin Sang recalled the two-headed hou into the Primordial Concentric Rings and began gingerly climbing down the rift. The rocks on the cliff face radiated bone-chilling cold. Qin Sang used both hands and feet, inching his way downward. Hardly anyone ever ventured here, and there was no path, so he had to grope along on his own. At first, out of caution, Qin Sang kept his pace slow and remained constantly vigilant. After descending a fair distance without encountering any danger, and seeing that the rift seemed bottomless—meaning going at this rate would waste far too much time—Qin Sang had no choice but to speed up. *It's been nearly a quarter of an hour, yet I haven't reached the bottom. The purple mist is only growing denser. At this depth, neither Xiang Yi's bone lotus nor that youth's jade bracelet would probably have held up. Yet the fat silkworm remains completely at ease—what a wonderful surprise.* Qin Sang planted his foot on a rock, lifted his sleeve, and gave the fat silkworm an approving look. With this journey, the toxic mist had thoroughly tested the fat silkworm's capabilities. It was now certain that toxic beasts of the Demon Core stage could not breach the poison-warding armor, though it remained to be seen whether it could withstand the virulent poison of a Transformation stage great demon. The fat silkworm had only just completed its third metamorphosis, yet the armor was already this formidable. If he could find a suitable method to nurture it, there would surely be even greater surprises in the future. After resting for a moment, Qin Sang continued climbing down. Less than a few dozen feet lower, he suddenly froze, gazing down toward his right in surprise. Amidst the churning purple mist, the silhouette of a gnarled old tree could be faintly seen growing horizontally out of the cliff. The tree appeared withered and dry, stripped of leaves with only bare boughs remaining. Yet on the tips of its branches hung dozens of fruits, gently swaying in the toxic draft. *Spiritual fruit can grow even in the Purple Mist Deathland? Is it a spiritual fruit or a poisonous one?* Qin Sang glanced at the fat silkworm. Back in the underground palace of Black Wind Valley, the fat silkworm had been drawn to the Thousand Hands Spider Fruit, impatient to devour the unripe poison fruit, but right now it showed no reaction whatsoever. Qin Sang paused, gazing intently at the old tree and inspecting it closely. There seemed to be no vicious beast guarding it. After some thought, he soundlessly edged toward the old tree. But he had taken only two steps sideways when he came to an abrupt halt, his eyes fixed on the spiritual fruits on the boughs. Those were no spiritual fruits—they were clearly some sort of vicious birds, hanging upside down from the branch tips like bats, fast asleep! Their wings were folded and their bodies plump and round, bobbing with the wind. From a distance, they closely resembled fruits, but they were actually dozens of unknown vicious birds. Further down, there seemed to be more trees like this. A small build meant nothing; Qin Sang had no desire to disturb a flock of such creatures. Holding his breath, he carefully backed away and took a detour. As he descended, he discovered many more of them, some roosting in trees and others hanging within crevices in the rock. Cold sweat beaded on Qin Sang's forehead, and he became even more cautious from then on. Fortunately, such beast swarms were uncommon. After reaching an unknown depth, his feet finally touched solid ground. "Phew..." Qin Sang slowly let out a breath and pricked up his ears to listen. The surroundings remained remarkably tranquil; the rift floor sounded even quieter than above. He ground his heel firmly into the surface; beneath his feet was hard stone. Summoning the Nine Nether Demonic Fire once more, the flame pointed distinctly toward the front-left, dancing far more cheerfully than before—rejoicing with an exuberance quite unlike its behavior on Cold Flame Island. Unsure of the reason, Qin Sang shook his head and summoned the two-headed hou. Man and beast remained on high alert, advancing without a sound. The floor of the rift was far wider than imagined. Although Qin Sang walked on a diagonal, he traversed a great distance without ever glimpsing the opposite cliff. Guided by the Nine Nether Demonic Fire, Qin Sang moved through the mist-filled rift, advancing almost step by step while keeping a close eye on the fat silkworm's condition. The fat silkworm was no longer as relaxed as before. It crouched half-arched on his sleeve with a solemn expression, having already spat out several successive rings of seven-colored light to reinforce the poison-warding armor. With every mouthful it released, the light in its eyes dimmed a fraction, as though it were nearing the limit of its endurance. Suddenly, the fat silkworm let out a hissing cry, scurrying from his sleeve onto the back of Qin Sang's hand. It reared up its upper body, its eyes filled with urgency and its hisses brimming with longing. Taken aback, Qin Sang immediately realized that the fat silkworm had caught wind of an aura that could benefit it. *There's something in the depths of the purple mist that interests it?* Aside from the Scarlet Fire Flowing Gold, the Thousand Hands Spider Fruit and the demon beast toxic cores were both related to poison. It was hardly surprising that a poisonous substance in the Purple Mist Deathland would attract the fat silkworm. The fat silkworm stretched its pudgy body as far as it could, pointing toward the left—a different direction from where Qin Sang was headed. Qin Sang looked left and right, pondering for a short moment before deciding to go after what the fat silkworm wanted first. Even if he found the spiritual fire, the chances of subduing it immediately were slim; at best, he could refine another fire bead and plan further down the line. But if there was a toxic treasure that could aid the fat silkworm's growth, it would yield immediate results. The fat silkworm was already showing signs of struggling under the current strain. Having made up his mind, Qin Sang changed direction and quickened his pace. The fat silkworm instantly grew excited. Unimpeded by any vicious beasts, Qin Sang moved faster and faster, dashing across the desolate rift floor. The fat silkworm's body stayed taut as it poured all its strength into sustaining the poison-warding armor—for Qin Sang, and for itself.