The walls of the hall were mottled, etched directly with runes. The strokes were vigorous and bold, wrought like iron and silver, bearing the marks of ages gone by.
The stone platform was even older than the hall.
At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary crescent-shaped slab of stone, yet it radiated an inexplicable aura of archaic simplicity that stirred the soul—it was clearly no object of the present age.
The platform was battered and scarred. Whether damaged in ancient upheavals or formed that way from the start, its surface was densely crisscrossed with scars in utter disarray, making it impossible to discern any deliberate pattern.
Inside the hall, there was nothing else aside from the spirit formation, the stone platform, and the lightning slurry.
As ordinary as the stone platform appeared, it hovered steadily in midair without falling.
A closer inspection revealed that this was not due to the platform's own power, but rather the gathered strength of the spirit formation. The platform sat precisely where the formation core was situated.
That the lightning slurry in the pool remained so docile was most likely the work of the spirit formation; it was impossible to tell what purpose the stone platform served.
The spirit formation and the stone platform were definitely not crafted by the same hand, hailing perhaps from entirely different eras. Whoever had left behind the spirit formation and placed the platform here must have had a profound reason for doing so.
The black-robed man stared intently at the stone platform. This was the very object the forefather of Black Snake Mountain had specifically demanded.
He stepped tentatively into the hall. Sensing nothing amiss, he flashed forward and darted to the edge of the lightning slurry pool.
Even though the pool remained undisturbed, standing so close to the slurry still made his scalp tingle and his eyelids twitch. He proceeded with extreme caution.
"Could this thing really be an exotic treasure?"
Looking at the stone platform, doubts surfaced in the black-robed man's mind.
No matter how he examined it, the platform bore none of the hallmarks of a magic treasure, showing not the slightest hint of powerful latent energy within. Yet the vast, ancient aura it exuded was truly breathtaking. For it to have endured from antiquity down to the present, it could hardly be mundane.
Though the situation outside was pressing, the black-robed man appeared entirely unhurried.
Instead of rushing to claim the platform, he first drew a flying sword, channeled his true essence into it, and struck lightly against the stone.
*Clang!*
The sound was crisp.
The flying sword rebounded.
The black-robed man switched to a magic treasure spirit sword, but the result was the same. He hacked at it several times in succession without leaving even the faintest mark.
The stone platform was exceptionally hard.
Unless those shocking scars had been there from the very beginning, whatever could batter the platform into such a state had surely been no ordinary blade.
The black-robed man decisively stowed his spirit sword, rested his palm gently against the stone platform, and channeled his true essence into it.
The next moment, a faint glimmer abruptly surfaced on the stone. The hall was far too bright, allowing only a glimpse of that illusory, ethereal glow, resembling faint starlight.
The stone platform had finally shown a reaction, but the black-robed man had already anticipated this and felt no excitement. As he continued to pour in his spiritual power, the starlight merely grew denser without any further change.
"As expected, even the two Nascent Souls of the human race couldn't make heads or tails of it, assuming it was nothing more than a formation core and a cultivation aid. I shouldn't indulge in pipe dreams of gaining anything through human methods."
Having no choice, the black-robed man withdrew his spiritual power. After a brief pause, his lips moved slightly, muttering strange syllables.
Next, he extended his right hand, splaying his fingers. A bizarre tattoo suddenly emerged along his arm—a divine pattern of the Witch Clan. A cluster of silver light coalesced in his palm. With a low shout from the black-robed man, it slapped against the stone platform with a sharp crack.
It was, in fact, a bolt of lightning.
Upon striking the platform, the lightning did not disperse. Instead, it expanded into an electric net that enveloped the platform, seemingly trying to bore into its depths or awaken some latent power hidden inside.
Unfortunately, the black-robed man failed once again. The platform remained just as it was, glowing only with that faint glimmer, which was so weak from the modest strength of the divine pattern that it was nearly invisible.
Yet he was not discouraged, for the divine patterns of the Witch Clan were all-encompassing, spanning wind, rain, thunder, and lightning alike.
The legacy of the Witch Clan was bound to be a grand path in no way inferior to that of the human race; why it had been severed so thoroughly remained a mystery.
The black-robed man invoked different divine patterns, manifesting a variety of powers and even employing Gu worms, but failed to elicit any response from the stone platform.
In the end, his repertoire exhausted, he could only give up.
"No wonder Master called it an exotic treasure rather than a magic treasure. As for whatever secret lies hidden within, it seems only Master or another Witch Clan Nascent Soul will be able to unravel it."
The black-robed man muttered to himself, his aura shifting as he retracted all the divine patterns. Recalling the dying words of the Nascent Soul obtained from the outcast of Douniu Peak, he brought forth his true essence once more, splitting it into several streams that sank into the spirit formation.
Runes flashed across the spirit formation. Seizing the opportunity, the black-robed man reached out, snatched the stone platform with lightning speed, and lifted it forcefully, successfully freeing it from the formation.
Delight showed on his face. He stowed the stone platform straight into his mustard seed bag, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught an abnormality in the pool of lightning slurry.
The previously tranquil slurry now showed fine ripples across its surface. Its aura grew increasingly violent, and the ambient lightning forces drifting around were affected as well.
Evidently, the stone platform was vital to the spirit formation.
With the platform removed, the spirit formation was destabilized.
The runes across the formation flared one after another in dazzling radiance, but the surging unrest of the lightning slurry could no longer be checked or suppressed.
Had the pool been brimming with slurry, a full eruption would have left not a single soul spared across all of Dongming Island. Even this shallow layer struck terror into the black-robed man, and he dared not linger a moment longer.
Pushing off with his feet, he sped out of the hall.
***
Outside the Lightning Cavern.
Alerted by the disturbance of the broken restriction, Core Formation cultivators from the various sects rushed over, only to discover with astonishment that a group of unfamiliar Witch Clan cultivators had appeared on the island.
By now, how could they fail to realize that those three Douniu Peak disciples were up to something nefarious? They had been thoroughly played, allowing people to slip in right under their noses.
"Get back!"
The Witch Clan cultivators reorganized their grand formation. With a wave of the Beast King Banners, golden threads ripped through the air, hurtling to slaughter the two fastest human Core Formation cultivators.
Sensing the lethal power of the golden threads, the two men blanched. They immediately summoned their magic treasures to defend themselves, but were still outmatched; the golden threads swallowed their attacks and pressed forward unabated. Gripped by shock, the two stopped dead in their tracks and retreated in haste, repelled in a single exchange in utter disarray.
Fortunately, the others behind them arrived in time.
"This is the Witch Clan's renowned Beast King Banner Formation!"
They were all veterans of countless battles, and someone gasped upon recognizing the Beast King Banners. Crafting these banners was exceptionally difficult and complex; those who possessed them were invariably top sects of the Witch Clan.
"These Witch Clan people have extraordinary origins! Their Beast King Banners are incomplete, so there's no need to panic. They dared infiltrate Dongming Island—don't let a single one escape!"
The highest-cultivation human cultivators issued rapid commands, and the crowd swiftly shifted formations to counterattack the Witch Clan cultivators.
The human cultivators held the advantage in numbers. Even relying on the Beast King Banners, the Witch Clan cultivators could not hold out for long.
Just as anxiety gnawed at them, the black-robed man finally emerged from the Lightning Cavern. Seeing the situation, he waved his arm. "I have the goods! Retreat!"
With that, the black-robed man fled first.
The Witch Clan cultivators rejoiced at his words, driving the Beast King Banners to cover their retreat as they darted swiftly toward the location of the banner formation.
Chapter 903