Several rounds of scanning revealed nothing out of the ordinary, aside from a faint trace of death qi lingering around Wuji's sleeping body. The elders then instructed Yun Li to place one of the testing pillars in front of the village chief's house.
Yun Li and his fellow disciples complied. Together, they carried the pillar into position and firmly set it into the ground. Once aligned, the disciples sat around the pillar in a loose formation and began channeling their qi into its core.
The process dragged on for nearly three hours.
Gradually, the pillar responded. The spirit stone mounted at its peak first flickered, and then began to glow steadily. Upon seeing this, the disciples immediately spread out and took their assigned positions before sitting cross-legged around it.
Though exhausted, none dared to relax. They quietly absorbed the little qi the air offered and replenished themselves.
Early the next morning, Wuji was awakened by the sound of villagers gathering.
He slowly rose from bed, washed quickly, and stepped outside. Morning sunlight spilled over him, but he felt none of its warmth. This strangeness registered only faintly, as curiosity had already taken hold of him.
His thoughts returned to the child he had seen days earlier with the strange question mark above his head.
Without alerting Wang Da, who was still sleeping soundly, he made his way toward the village center. He was swallowed by the crowd almost at once. His back slightly hunched, he settled at the edge of the crowd, his presence as unremarkable as always.
From the back of the gathering, his gaze wandered until it found its target; the child.
The child was there, standing near the back of the line. For several minutes, Wuji watched as the children stepped forward one by one. Each pricked a finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the testing pillar, but the pillar remained dull and inert, offering no response.
Growing bored, Wuji let his eyes drift upward. He expected to see the familiar, perhaps a question mark above a few heads here and there. Maybe the cultivators would appear different from the villagers he was accustomed to observing.
Instead, his eyes widened abruptly. His breath caught as he noticed the shift in color from the usual bronze.
"Why are the numbers red?"
His mind raced through the knowledge he had absorbed from the coffin. There was nothing like this. No precedent. No explanation. Then he recalled the brief moment the night before, when Wang Da's numbers had flickered to crimson.
"Is there some danger nearby? Why is it affecting everyone?" The last word made him realize the reality of his situation. His gaze flicked to his own numbers. They were colorless—not bronze like before, nor red like the others.
"What does this mean? Am I safe? Am I in danger? Or is my fate unknown? Is it because I bonded with the Heaven Burial Coffin?"
The thoughts came unbidden, but he forced them aside. This was no time for speculation. At least bronze would have meant normalcy, red clearly signified danger, but colorless was something unknown entirely.
Cold sweat dampened his spine as he swept his gaze across the crowd once more. Every villager bore the same red numbers above their heads.
Even the disciples' numbers were red. Their hue was fainter, diluted and restrained, but still unmistakably red. Wuji focused on a few of them.
[Lifespan: 30/120?]
[Lifespan: 25/125?]
[Lifespan: 45/115?]
[Lifespan: 40/200?]
His gaze finally settled on Yun Li, the disciple with the greatest apparent potential. The number above the young man's head was threaded with red amid its usual bronze, and a question mark hovered beside it, as it did for most of the cultivators present.
Wuji understood at once. Yun Li was a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Two hundred years was the upper limit of that realm.
As for the question mark, his suspicion was confirmed. Only those with spirit bore it. Those marked were those bestowed with the fate of defying the heavens.
Yet the most important question remained unanswered: Why did everyone here have red numbers? Did the red and bronze mixture mean there was a chance to escape the looming danger? What did this ominous crimson truly signify? What kind of danger was he in?
Wuji had no answers. For now, he could only observe and wait for more information before drawing a conclusion.
As his gaze swept over the crowd for clues, his eyes suddenly narrowed and locked onto a patch of empty air ten feet above the gathering. Vivid numbers in shades of bronze and crimson were hovering in the void there, though no one was standing beneath them.
"What is going on?" he wondered. "Are there people hiding in the air?" He sharpened his focus and deciphered the glowing figures.
[Lifespan: 305/500?]
[Lifespan: 420/500?]
[Lifespan: 270/500?]
"High. The numbers were far too high for the event." But these numbers alone told him everything he needed to know about the unseen figures lurking above.
The three elders, who had been watching the spirit testing with bored, half-closed eyes, felt a sudden prickle of awareness, a strange gaze brushing against their perception.
Their heads turned in unison, their eyes locking onto Wuji. "Is he looking at us?" one of them mumbled.
"Don't be ridiculous," another countered. "How could a mere mortal see through our Light Veiling Art?"
The first elder hesitated, then nodded slowly. Only a superior-realm cultivator, perhaps a Golden Core refining cultivator, or someone with a rare ocular art could pierce their stealth. Someone like Wudi, whose cruel gaze now watched the spirit testing from above.
Floating beside him, Mei Xu grew impatient.
"We need to act," she said quietly as she slipped another pill between her lips. Her qi had been draining for hours to sustain the illusion array. Even the slightest fluctuation could expose them, and she had been careful not to allow one.
Wuji noticed the three hidden figures but did not dwell on them. He guessed they were most likely protectors. That much was to be expected, given his limited knowledge of the sects' inner workings.
What unsettled him was something else.
The three figures bore red numbers just as vivid as Yun Li's, though slightly fainter than those of the young man.
That alone sent a chill through him. He looked around slowly, his movements calm, but his mind frantic. He wondered if there were others hiding nearby.
He swept his gaze again. For a moment, he saw nothing amiss. Then, by sheer coincidence, his gaze landed on two figures—their numbers to be exact—hovering above the village: Wudi and Mei Xu.
His body stiffened. For a brief moment, his mind refused to cooperate.
"What...?"
[Lifespan: 200/500?]
[Lifespan: 250/700?]
His breath faltered at the last number. His gaze locked onto it, especially the seven hundred.
His thoughts erupted all at once. "Are they one group or separate from the other three? Why aren't their numbers red? What makes this round of selection so special? Why is a Golden Core refining cultivator here?"
Paranoia surged through him, twisting his insides. Through the numbers alone, Wuji saw what even Wudi's masters might not have discerned. Wudi was a Golden Core refining cultivator, only those in that realm could have a lifespan approaching seven hundred years.
Illusions, concealment arts, and precious treasures could hide many things.
But before the Eye of the End, born of the Heaven Burial Coffin, matters of fate and endings were trivial. Nothing could hide from eyes that saw destined death.
Wudi, who had also felt the gaze, looked back at him.
"Interesting. A mortal carrying some death qi… and he seems able to see us," he said, his glowing eye focusing on Wuji, lingering on the death qi unconsciously leaking from him. The air around Wuji grew faintly colder, though not enough to make anyone draw their robes tighter.
"Hmph. Just say you don't trust my capabilities," Mei Xu snorted.
"What?" Wudi replied, then immediately understood where she was coming from. "Of course I trust you, Illusion Vixen. Even if those three old crooks couldn't see through it, how would some frail old man with one foot in the grave pierce your powerful array?" he said.
"Hmph. At least you know," she replied, wearing the demeanor of a young girl whom she could birth three times over.
"Alright," Wudi said. "Then we should begin."
He crushed a colorless poisonous pill between his fingers.
At the same time, Wuji had already turned away, as his body began to tremble unconsciously, his back drenched in sweat. His fingers quivered uncontrollably as he searched for courage that refused to appear, clenching and unclenching his frail fists without realizing it.
He looked back at the villagers; some chatting, some laughing, others boasting that their children would surely be chosen.
Then his eyes widened as the horror began. The numbers above their heads darkened and thickened into a heavy crimson, as though they were about to bleed.
Slowly, Wuji took a few hurried steps backward. A handful of villagers glanced at him briefly, then turned back to watch the selection continue, uninterested in his quiet retreat.
At the same beat, Wudi extended his hand and drew two items from his spatial pouch: a banner nearly two meters long, and a pillar etched with three glyphs and carved mouths. The first was a soul banner, meant to absorb souls. The second was a blood-qi devouring pillar.
With a casual wave of his hand, the pillar expanded, stretching into a massive structure nearly ten meters tall.
Then he brought it down.
Thuck!
It collapsed onto several villagers, smashing them into paste.
Though Wuji could not see the true horror, his body shook as he watched the numbers above the villagers' heads vanish from several meters away. To everyone else, the villagers still appeared alive—standing, talking, moving—but in truth, they were already dead.
The sight of these illusory figures continuing the exact actions of the slain made his scalp prickle and his heart thunder violently in his chest. Each step backward felt as though it might be his last.
For a fleeting moment, he felt the urge to scream a warning. But fear and logic stopped him.
What could screaming accomplish against people who could alter reality itself? If they could deceive the crowd's eyes, an old man's cry would mean nothing. Worse still, the so-called protectors had yet to perceive the slaughter.
As he retreated, Wuji watched the numbers above the villagers vanish at a maddening pace. In a single moment, more than twenty villagers, and even disciples died without warning.
He glanced toward the three hidden cultivators, desperately hoping they had already acted. They had not. The numbers above them remained unmoving.
That sight drowned his last hope of escape. "I've only just obtained my key to an exciting future. I haven't seen the wider world yet. I haven't flown beneath the starry skies on my own. There is still so much I want to accomplish."
His thoughts scattered and fractured, like final reflections surfacing in the face of death.
"YOU DARE!" One of the elders' voices tore through the illusion, snapping several disciples back to reality. As they looked around, shattered bones and blood-soaked ground greeted them.
Horrified screams followed as their minds struggled to comprehend how close, and how sudden death had been.
The three elders reacted instantly. Their natal weapons flashed into their waiting grasp—three swords—and they hacked forward, slashing at the space before them.
CRACK!
The illusory array shattered like a mirror. But Mei Xu moved at once. Her hands blurred through several seals in a single heartbeat as she reassembled the formation.
"Hurry," she snapped. "Someone has broken an alarm jade!"
Wudi waved his hand, forming three hand seals in quick succession. Above him, a massive fireball condensed, burning with yellow flames like a miniature sun. With a downward motion, he sent it crashing down.
The three elders entered attacking stances and swung their glowing swords. Sword qi surged as they struck toward the blazing sun.
To their horror, their attacks passed straight through it.
The fireball had been augmented by the illusion array.
A heartbeat later, it struck.
They were forced to activate their protective treasure—a fourth-tier spiritual bronze bell—which flared to life around them.
Thoomp!
The impact reverberated through the formation. Even from a distance, Wuji clutched his ears as blood trickled from them, the shockwave rattling his bones.
He looked up, the blinding glow of the fading miniature sun making his eyes ache. Even from hundreds of meters away, the lingering heat was unbearable. He glanced downward, wondering how those closer were faring.
He saw Yun Li and two others standing beneath a flickering barrier. It wavered violently as it struggled to shield the remaining disciples, and the lone child discovered to possess a spirit root.
As for the other villagers, their bodies had been reduced to paste, their blood flowed like shallow rivers, limbs scattered across the ground. The earth was stained red enough to tint the air itself.
Above, only sparks and searing light remained as the clash intensified.
No one spared Wuji a glance, which gave him the chance to run.
He fled toward the forest, abandoning the Heaven Burial Coffin. There was no way he could carry it alone, its three-meter length would make him stand out, and his frail body could barely support itself.
Even running felt as though his heart might give out at any moment. As he ran, his thoughts still wavered between escape and returning for his key.
In the end, fear of death won.
He ran through the forest for several minutes, his frail body screaming in protest. His lungs burned, his legs threatened to give out. Yet no matter how far he ran, something felt wrong.
He wasn't getting away.
The forest twisted subtly around him. Paths he had crossed with effort reappeared, and trees he distinctly remembered returned again.
Only then did he realize the truth. He was inside a sensory-confusing array. In truth, he had been running in circles the entire time.
Realizing escape through the forest was impossible, he turned and ran back toward the village.
Mei Xu, who was monitoring the array even amid battle, sensed the disturbance. She spared it a glance and saw only a mortal attempting to flee. Unbothered, she returned her focus to the fight.
There was no chance a mere mortal could escape her formation, one capable of trapping even early Core Formationcultivators like the three elders.
Wuji veered toward Wang Da's house and flung the door open.
Inside, he found Wang Da wedged beneath the bed, trembling violently, unable even to look up for fear of drawing a stray attack.
Seeing that the young man was still alive, Wuji let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Good," he said softly.
Then he moved at once, heading for the workshop, the only place he could think of where survival might still be possible.
The workshop was in disarray, shaken by tremors and distant shockwaves from the battle. Wuji didn't care. He didn't even spare a glance for the letter he had written to the young woman.
He skidded to a halt before the Heaven Burial Coffin. Without hesitation, he threw open the lid, climbed inside, and pulled it shut over himself.
Only then did a faint sense of relief settle over him, though even the relief was weak and fragile. He didn't know whether it was justified or whether he would survive at all.
Still, he clung to it. After all, this was a powerful artifact of unknown origin. Surely… it could protect its owner. Right?