The air was still thick with the metallic tang of blood and the lingering ozone of spent magic, but for the Green Wolf King and his cohorts, the smell was nothing short of perfume. They scrambled toward the remains of the Corpse Snake like scavengers at a buffet, their dignity forgotten in the face of profit. The creature's fangs were the prize—serrated, venom-soaked ivory that promised to be far superior to the sickle-legs of the Iron Centipede they had butchered earlier. With proper refining, these weren't just trophies; they were the raw materials for high-grade magical treasures.
While the others bickered over the spoils, their voices rising in greedy crescendos, Luo Zhen drifted away. He gripped the hilt of his Green Lustre Saber, not out of immediate fear, but out of habit. His eyes swept the floor of the cavern's small plaza, looking for patterns in the chaos.
It didn't take him long. Just as before, tucked away in a corner shadowed by stalagmites, he found a cache of Spirit Stones. They were high-grade, perhaps even top-grade, embedded into the rock floor with surgical precision. To the untrained eye, it was a random hoard. To Luo Zhen, it was a circuit board.
He hesitated only for a heartbeat before he began prying them loose. One by one, the glowing stones came free, their light fading as they left the formation.
He was halfway through the task when the world hiccuped.
It wasn't an earthquake, not exactly. It was a shudder—a sudden, sickening vibration that rippled through the bedrock, sharp and fleeting. It lasted no more than three seconds, vanishing as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the plaza in a silence that felt heavier than before.
Luo Zhen froze, his senses expanding outward. He glanced toward the Green Wolf King and the others. They were huddled in a circle, laughing as they divvied up the snake teeth, completely oblivious to the tremor that had just shaken the foundations of the cave.
Am I imagining things? Luo Zhen wondered, shaking his head to clear the sudden ringing in his ears. No. It was real.
Dismissing the unease, he yanked the remaining stones from the earth and swept them into his spatial ring. By the time he rejoined the group, the looting was complete.
"Fellow Daoist Luo!" The Green Wolf King beamed, his face flushed with the high of acquisition. "Shall we press on? If the gatekeepers are this rich, imagine what lies at the heart of this place."
Next to him, Xie Jun and the others nodded, their eyes gleaming with an avarice that blinded them to caution. They looked at Luo Zhen like a lucky charm, waiting for him to lead them to the next payout.
Luo Zhen, however, did not move. The atmosphere had shifted. The air felt heavier, pressing against his skin like a wet blanket.
"Wait," Luo Zhen said, his voice cutting through their excitement. He paused, weighing how much truth to share. "My bloodline... it has reached the Saint Tier. With that evolution comes a heightened perception, a primitive intuition for survival. And right now, every instinct I have is screaming."
He looked down the dark tunnel ahead. "If we go deeper, we aren't walking into treasure. We are walking into a nightmare."
He wasn't bluffing. His bloodline was in revolt, sending spikes of adrenaline through his system that made his eyelids twitch involuntarily.
The revelation, however, hit the group differently. The Green Wolf King's jaw dropped, his greed instantly replaced by reverence.
"My god... Fellow Daoist Luo, you're a Saint-tier Demonic Beast?" He gasped. "A true Saint Beast?"
"I knew it!" Xie Jun slapped his thigh, looking vindicated. "I knew there was something different about him! A Saint Beast... that explains the Exotic Fire! That explains how he dominates despite only being in the mid-stage of the Demon King Realm!"
"Truly deep waters hide great dragons," Wei Rui murmured, exchanging a look of awe with the Bull King.
Luo Zhen sighed internally. He had played the Saint card to instill caution, to make them understand the gravity of the threat. Instead, he had only deepened their confidence. To them, walking behind a Saint Beast didn't mean they should turn back; it meant they were invincible.
"Forget it," Luo Zhen muttered, realizing the argument was futile. "Let's move. But stay sharp."
He took the lead, stepping into the throat of the tunnel.
The deeper they descended, the more the environment turned hostile. The Corpse Qi—that necrotic energy that permeated the cave—ceased to be a mist and became a physical presence. It swirled around them, thick and viscous, threatening to condense into liquid droplets on their skin.
Worse still was the pressure on the mind. Luo Zhen found his Spiritual Consciousness, usually a radar that could sweep the area for miles, being crushed inward. It was claustrophobic, like being slowly blinded.
They walked for thousands of meters in this oppressive gloom, weapons drawn, muscles coiled. Yet, they encountered nothing. No beasts, no traps. Just the silence and the damp.
Then, a light appeared.
It wasn't the harsh glow of magma or the cold light of phosphorescent moss. It was a soft, inviting luminance at the end of the tunnel. Luo Zhen slowed his pace, inching forward until the walls fell away.
They had reached the end.
Luo Zhen blinked, his eyes adjusting to the impossible sight before him. The cave opened up into a colossal cavern, but the floor was not jagged rock. It was a manicured, flat expanse of land, spanning several acres.
It was a garden.
Lush, verdant plants carpeted the ground, dotted with flowers of vibrant purples and blood-reds. It was a pastoral paradise buried miles beneath the earth. In the exact center of this subterranean meadow lay a square pond, its waters still as glass.
And floating in the center of the pond was a coffin made of solid, unblemished gold.
Luo Zhen tried to extend his senses, but hit a wall. His Spiritual Consciousness was gone, completely smothered by the ambient pressure of the room. They were spiritually blind.
"Holy hell," Xie Jun breathed, lowering his weapon. "Is this still the Corpse Cave? It looks like a nobleman's courtyard. Well... except for the ominous gold coffin."
"It mimics a garden, yes," the Green Wolf King said, his voice wary. He stepped off the stone path and reached down, gripping a leafy green plant. "But these are not simple weeds."
He yanked the plant from the soil. Instantly, the illusion of life shattered. The plant erupted with billowing black smoke—concentrated Corpse Qi that rolled out in a suffocating wave, fogging the air for hundreds of meters.
Luo Zhen reacted on instinct. He summoned his Crimson Recovery Fire, the flames roaring to life. He incinerated the gas and the plant in a single breath, reducing the toxic cloud to harmless ash.
The Green Wolf King dusted off his hands, looking grim. "I've read about this in the Compendium of Wicked Flora. If I'm not mistaken, this entire field is planted with Yin Wind Grass."
"Yin Wind Grass?"
"It's a rare, top-tier necrotic plant," the Wolf King explained, his eyes fixed on the distant coffin. "It acts as a siphon, pulling Yin energy from the deep earth and refining it into pure Corpse Qi. It's a battery for cultivation."
The implication hung in the air like smoke.
"If that's true," the Wolf King continued, pointing a trembling finger at the golden box, "then the occupant of that coffin planted this garden. He's farming energy. And he's been doing it for a long, long time."
"That means the occupant is incredibly powerful," Xie Jun whispered. He looked at Luo Zhen. "Do we... do we open it?"
Luo Zhen didn't answer immediately. He was turning inward, reaching out to the interface that only he could see.
System, he projected his thought, run a threat assessment. What is in that coffin?
The mechanical voice responded instantly, devoid of comfort. [Unable to analyze. The golden coffin is shielded by high-level restrictions. Scanning failed.]
Luo Zhen's heart sank. If the System couldn't see it, he was flying blind.
"Fellow Daoist Luo?" The Green Wolf King pressed.
Luo Zhen clenched his jaw. Danger was certain, but so was the reward. And if things went south, he had the Earth Escape Technique. He could sink through the floor and vanish before the others even realized he was gone.
"Open it," Luo Zhen commanded.
He stepped onto the soft earth, wading through the sea of Yin Wind Grass toward the pond. The others followed close behind, their greed once again warring with their fear.
They made it ten paces.
Suddenly, two wet, tearing sounds ripped through the silence, followed immediately by screams that were cut short.
"Ah—!"
"What happened?!" Luo Zhen spun around, his saber already moving.
The sight that greeted him was a tableau of horror.
Wei Rui and the Bull King were standing frozen, their eyes wide with shock. In the center of both their chests, right where the heart resided, was a hole the size of a dinner bowl. There was no blood spray, just a gaping void where life used to be.
Inside the wounds, something red and blurred was churning, grinding bone and organ into paste.
Before either demon could draw another breath, they collapsed. As their bodies hit the dirt, the air behind them shimmered.
Two creatures materialized from nothingness. They were mantises, but unlike any insect of the natural world. They were blood-red, sleek, and stood a meter tall. Their forelegs were massive, serrated scythes, currently dripping with the heart-blood of Luo Zhen's companions.
"What kind of filth dares?!" Luo Zhen roared.
He threw his hand out, the Crimson Recovery Fire exploding outward into a net of searing flame, aiming to trap the assassins.
The Blood-Red Mantises didn't panic. They simply chittered—a sound like dry leaves breaking—and twisted their torsos. In a blur of motion, they vanished again, dissolving into the air just as the fire net descended.
The fire net struck nothing but empty air and grass.
Luo Zhen didn't hesitate. With a mental command, he pulled the flames back, reshaping the net into a spinning dome of fire around his own body.
The Green Wolf King and Xie Jun were pale, their composure shattered. They channeled every ounce of their demonic power, summoning layers of translucent shields and barriers, turning themselves into fortresses of light.
But the garden was silent.
The Blood-Red Mantises were gone. If not for the mutilated corpses of Wei Rui and the Bull King cooling in the Yin Wind Grass, it would have seemed like a hallucination. But the death was real. Two mid-stage Demon Kings, seasoned warriors with active defenses, had been liquidated in a fraction of a second.
"Fellow Daoist Luo," Xie Jun stammered, his voice trembling. "They're invisible. We can't sense them. What do we do?"
Luo Zhen's eyes darted around the empty air. "We leave. Now."
He backed away slowly. "These mantises are faster than our eyes and immune to our current detection. Staying here is suicide."
"Agreed," the Green Wolf King choked out.
But as they took their first step backward, a sound echoed across the cavern.
Crack.
Crack. Crack.
It came from the pond. The heavy lid of the golden coffin was sliding open, metal grinding against metal.
Luo Zhen, the Wolf King, and Xie Jun froze. From the depths of the gold box, a figure sat up.
It was a man. Or rather, a corpse that refused to accept its nature. His face was gaunt, the skin pulled tight over sharp cheekbones, hair wild and matted. But his eyes... his eyes were not dead. They were bright, liquid, and terrifyingly intelligent.
The moment the creature sat up, a wave of ancient, suffocating dread washed over Luo Zhen. His Saint bloodline didn't just warn him this time; it screamed.
[Alert,] the System chimed, its urgency cutting through the panic. [Scanning complete. Target power level is critical. Host is unmatched. Recommendation: Flee immediately.]
I know! Luo Zhen screamed internally.
The zombie man cracked his neck, the sound like a gunshot. His gaze drifted lazily over the trio. "Not bad," he croaked, his voice like gravel grinding together. "I've only just woken up, and breakfast has already delivered itself."
"Who are you?" The Green Wolf King demanded, though his voice lacked any real authority.
"Who am I?" The zombie man touched his withered face, seemingly confused. "I may be thin, but I haven't changed that much. Do you juniors truly not recognize me?"
"Why should we know a dead thing?" Luo Zhen scoffed, masking his fear with bravado. He signaled the others with a sharp tilt of his head: Run.
They began to backpedal, moving toward the tunnel entrance.
Whoosh.
Two red blurs materialized behind them, blocking the exit. The Blood-Red Mantises stood sentinel, their scythes raised, boxing them in.
"Heh. Since you're here, stay." The zombie man stood up, stepping out of the coffin with a fluidity that belied his appearance. He plucked a handful of Yin Wind Grass, washed it in the pond water, and shoved it into his mouth, chewing loudly.
"Trapped," Xie Jun whimpered.
The zombie man swallowed the grass and looked at them with genuine disappointment. "You really don't know me?"
"No," Luo Zhen said flatly.
The creature sighed, a sound of profound melancholy. "I have only been sealed for three hundred years. Has Silver Jiao Island truly forgotten me so quickly?" His expression twisted into a snarl. "Silver Jiao Emperor... you treacherous worm. Your clan deserves extinction!"
The Green Wolf King froze. The gears in his head began to turn, grinding against a memory long buried.
"Three hundred years... Silver Jiao Island..." The Wolf King mumbled. Then, his eyes went wide. "Wait. I remember!"
He looked at the zombie with horror. "Three hundred years ago, a cultivator appeared from the neighboring Qingyang Island. He claimed to possess a Supreme Demon Heritage. He came here and bathed the island in blood."
The Wolf King stepped back, trembling. "He was unstoppable. The Silver Jiao Clan had to unite every expert on the island just to hold him back. The battle lasted five days and nights. They said he vanished... some said dead, some said sealed."
The Wolf King swallowed hard. "You... You are True Man Qingyang."
"Correct," the zombie man—Qingyang—said, puffing out his withered chest. "I am the one who slaughtered armies. But you are wrong about one thing."
He pointed a jagged finger at the ceiling. "I did not lose to you, island savages. I lost because the cowardly Silver Jiao Emperor imported experts from the Manzhou Continent to ambush me. Even then, they couldn't kill me. My Demon Art is eternal. They could only lock me away."
He laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "But my art never sleeps. For three centuries, I have been corroding their seals from the inside. The tremors you felt? That was me shattering the final lock."
Qingyang looked around his garden, his eyes burning with madness. "I have turned their prison into my farm. The snakes, the centipedes—they were the jailers, living beasts meant to guard me. I corrupted them. I turned them into monsters and made this cave a land of the dead."
Luo Zhen felt a pang of bitter regret. The Spirit Stones he had pried loose... they were the last vestiges of the seal. By taking them, he hadn't just looted a treasure; he had arguably helped kick the door open for this monster.
Qingyang dusted the dirt from his hands. The history lesson was over.
"You have heard my name. You have witnessed my glory," Qingyang said, a cruel smile stretching his papery skin. "Now, you may serve your final purpose."
He crouched, muscles tightening like steel cables.
"Consider yourselves the first course of my return banquet."
Before the echo of his voice died, Qingyang launched himself forward, a blur of grey death. Simultaneously, behind them, the Blood-Red Mantises screeched and brought their scythes down.
The trap had snapped shut.