Escaping the Bird's Maw

Qin Sang felt a wave of lingering fear. This top-tier ferocious beast was very likely the leader of the beasts guarding the purple crystals. Fortunately, he had quit while he was ahead last time, choosing to leave as soon as he snatched a single purple crystal; otherwise, his odds of survival would have been slim. "Don't worry, there'll be no shortage of food for you!" Qin Sang comforted it. The purple crystals were hard to obtain, but there were two other toxic lands in the Hall of Seven Kills, and perhaps spiritual herbs that could attract the fat silkworm grew in Flower Immortal Lake. The fat silkworm had a sense of priorities after all. Sensing the pressure radiating from the top-tier ferocious beast, it lay prostrate on Qin Sang's shoulder, trembling all over and not daring to squeak or clamor anymore. ... The shockwaves grew weaker and weaker. Old Devil Mou stood at the canyon entrance. The grand formation looked battered and broken, and some of the bone tablets themselves had even cracked. Yet he turned a blind eye to this, his gaze fixed intently on the depths of the Ghostland. Seeing no one emerge from the Ghostland, Old Devil Mou could no longer sit still. His lips moved slightly, and a wisp of blue spiritual fire flew out from between his brows—none other than the Dongming cold flame. The cold flame coalesced into a ball before him, reflected in his pupils like two frigid glints. He looked down at the cold flame and murmured, "Master Dongming was on the verge of breaking through the late Nascent Soul bottleneck and becoming a Great Cultivator, yet he perished under the heavenly tribulation. He died on a deserted island in the Demon Sea, and hundreds of years passed before he was discovered—it must be said that fortune plays cruel tricks on men. Alas, the difficulty of cultivating my secret art is far too great. Even after decades, this old man has only achieved minor success, unable to completely refine the Dongming cold flame. Otherwise, my strength wouldn't be inferior to a Great Cultivator's, so why would I have had to suffer threats from the Demon Lord and that old ox-nose, squandering precious time? Ah, forget it. If the demonic fire scattered, then so be it! Even if I had managed to obtain it, subduing it would likely have taken an eternity. Once I refine the Dongming cold flame, there will be high hopes of breaking through to the late Nascent Soul stage and shaking the two domains with my might. The difficulty of Soul Formation is beyond an ordinary mortal's imagination; who knows if even one could appear in tens of millions of years..." That said, Old Devil Mou still felt a piercing ache whenever he thought of the demonic fire. With a flash, he arrived at the entrance of the Ghostland, only to find the inside in utter shambles. Subsequently, Old Devil Mou set up the bone tablet grand formation once more. Out of caution, he even forced out several drops of blood essence and struck them into the bone tablets, restoring the grand formation's might to a level no weaker than its peak. Next, he urged his divine sense to probe forward, finding that the ghost mist still affected it. Fortunately, with the transcendence of the dead souls and the collapse of the demonic restrictions, the ghost mist was continually dissipating and very little remained, allowing one to see dozens of paces away even with the naked eye. Old Devil Mou's divine sense was exceptionally powerful, surpassing that of cultivators of the same rank, so this slight hindrance was practically negligible. Forming an incantation hand seal, he condensed the cold flame with his divine sense, transforming it into several cold fire puppets that dispersed into the Ghostland to search rampantly. The cold fire puppets darted toward the depths of the Ghostland at flying speed, leaving no corner unturned. The Ghostland was limited in area, so the cold fire puppets easily swept across it and found the remaining traces of the altars. The altars and spirit pillars had already shattered when the dead souls were transcended. Old Devil Mou's true body appeared above the altars, his eyes flickering. It was difficult to discern what the altars were used for, but he could tell they were certainly not from the present era, and the anomaly had definitely been triggered by them. The altars had remained safe and sound in the Ghostland for countless years, yet an accident occurred as soon as the mysterious person entered; they had clearly been triggered deliberately. Regrettably, only these few traces remained, with no sign of any figure. Apart from the five altars, there was nothing unusual whatsoever. The mysterious person had vanished—alive, there was no person; dead, there was no corpse. Aside from the five altars, not a single trace of an ancient cultivator's abandoned abode could be found, and there were no treasures at all. This place could be called the most desolate of all the secret realms in the Hall of Seven Kills. Old Devil Mou's brows furrowed deeply, his heart filled with shock and suspicion. *Could that person have accidentally triggered some formidable restriction and been obliterated, leaving no bones behind?* "No! Even if that person died, it would be impossible to leave no trace at all." Old Devil Mou had already noticed that the impact suffered within the Ghostland was not nearly as violent as what he had encountered outside. "There must be something I overlooked. Could it be..." Before he could figure out the truth of the matter, a loud boom and a sharp bird's cry suddenly sounded from outside. Listening for a moment, Old Devil Mou's complexion changed drastically, and he dashed out of the Ghostland without looking back. ... At this moment, Qin Sang was in a wretched state, fleeing in panic. The aura of top-tier ferocious beasts had appeared inside the rift valley; how could Qin Sang dare linger for even a moment? He cast his escape art with all his might, shooting straight upward toward the sky above the rift valley. Just as he departed, the ferocious beasts arrived. The purple mist was extremely dense. With the help of the Heavenly Eye divine ability, Qin Sang caught sight of several beast silhouettes. One side had only a single beast, resembling a dog yet not a dog, while the other side was a pack of flood dragon-like ferocious beasts. The two sides seemed to share an old feud, baring their teeth and repeatedly growling at each other. Fortunately, their attention was entirely drawn by their rival and the commotion from the Ghostland, and neither noticed Qin Sang. Just then, an unforeseen event occurred. A terrifying aura suddenly manifested above Qin Sang's head. Gale-force winds whipped against his face as a top-tier ferocious beast plummeted from the sky—a giant, grotesque bird. With the Heavenly Eye Butterfly sounding a warning, Qin Sang reacted with lightning speed. He immediately threw himself flat against the cliff wall, commanded the fat silkworm to compress the Poison-Warding Armor, and urged the Red Yuan Gauze with all his might to conceal his aura. Unexpectedly, the grotesque bird was exceptionally alert and detected his presence. The reason Qin Sang had been able to deceive Old Devil Mou was only partly due to the Red Yuan Gauze; Bai's contribution had been indispensable. Against ordinary Transformation stage great demons or Nascent Soul cultivators, Qin Sang might have succeeded in pulling off the deception. However, these top-tier ferocious beasts lived year-round in the Purple Mist Deathland; not only did their strength rival Nascent Soul cultivators, but they were also intimately familiar with this terrain and possessed sharp spiritual senses. As expected, his presence was seen through. *Whoosh!* A fierce wind swept in. Carrying howling gales with it, the grotesque bird arrived, letting out an ear-piercing shriek. Opening its beak, it spat out a beam of black light that shot like a sharp arrow toward Qin Sang's hiding spot. Qin Sang paled in fright. He had thought he could catch his breath after deceiving Old Devil Mou, never expecting there to be so many top-tier ferocious beasts in the rift valley, with one perching on the cliff wall all along—an accident even Bai had failed to foresee. It was also due to Qin Sang's earlier good fortune that he hadn't alerted the bird then. With the grotesque bird blocking the way ahead, ferocious beasts watching from behind, and Old Devil Mou eyeing the area like a tiger stalking its prey, Qin Sang was beside himself with anxiety. Thoughts spun wildly through his mind as he kicked hard against the cliff face, dodging the bird's assault by a hair's breadth. However, he was grazed by the aftershock and slammed violently into the cliff wall, letting out a stifled grunt. *Boom!* The black light struck the cliff wall, sending countless shattered rocks flying and leaving a massive crater, making Qin Sang's heart leap in terror. The grotesque bird shrieked and flapped its wings, about to pursue Qin Sang, when a roar suddenly rose from the bottom of the rift valley, carrying a clear warning and hostility, seemingly aimed at the bird. The bird's figure paused. Its ferocious eyes locked onto the canyon bottom, and it let out a sharp cry in tit-for-tat confrontation. Qin Sang had already secretly channeled the Thunder Command Art, preparing to fight for his life, but he breathed a sigh of relief at this sight. Just as he had anticipated, affected by the Hall of Seven Kills, the intelligence of top-tier ferocious beasts was only slightly higher than that of ordinary beasts. It was impossible for these top-tier beasts to coexist in peace; encountering their mortal enemies, their attention was instantly diverted. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Feigning weakness, Qin Sang let himself tumble through the air out of the grotesque bird's line of sight and fled in another direction.