Chapter 277

The sky was a dim, dust‑veiled leaden gray, lacking sun, moon, or stars; only some strange glowing clouds drifted, offering limited light.

The ground was dark brown, the soil hard, mixed with many stones of various sizes and strange shapes; some of the stones glittered with metallic luster, others resembled rotting bone.

The air was thick with spiritual energy, but its attributes were extremely mixed—all five elements present yet unbalanced, and further blended with ancient, violent, even slightly bloody spiritual essences that were hard to distinguish. Breathing caused a faint sting, requiring cultivation to filter.

As far as the eye could see lay an uneven, boundless wasteland; in the distance were some low, oddly shaped hills resembling the spines of monsters.

Vegetation was sparse; occasionally one could see dark‑colored, menacing shrubs or lichen‑like plants that gave off an ominous aura.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

Except for the wind—a mournful whisper slipping through rock crevices—there was no insect chirp or birdcall, and no sign of any other living creature.

Only he was there. Luo Qingyang and Qin Xue had indeed not been sent together.

This was as expected.

"Desolate, dead silent, with violently mixed spiritual energy… this seems to be the outermost region of the secret realm, and also the widest, relatively 'safe' 'Abandoned Wasteland' zone."

Wang Ping silently thought, "According to the intel, the Abandoned Wasteland has scarce resources, but it's not completely devoid; occasionally there are remnants of ancient battlefields or naturally formed special terrains that nurture unique spiritual materials or hidden dangers,

Most cultivators randomly sent here would hurry off to head for the inner regions where known resource-rich areas or inheritance sites lie."

He lifted his gaze to the dim sky, trying to discern direction, but those glowing clouds seemed to follow no pattern.

"The secret realm's interior directions are chaotic; conventional means of orientation mostly fail,

Senior Qingyu had once hinted that deep in the secret realm there is some kind of 'gravity' core; the stronger the inheritance or treasure, the more likely its law fluctuations are to resonate with that core… perhaps we can try to sense the flow trend of spiritual energy and the concentration gradients of different attributes."

Wang Ping closed his eyes, focused his divine sense, ceased spreading it outward, and instead finely perceived the subtle changes in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth around him. He discarded the violent, chaotic parts and concentrated on sensing the relatively stable five‑element spiritual energy.

Earth spiritual energy was the thickest, emanating continuously from the ground beneath his feet.

Metal spiritual energy was scattered, mostly coming from those metallic ores.

Water, fire, and wood spiritual energy were relatively thin and unevenly distributed.

But gradually, Wang Ping caught a trace of an extremely weak yet relatively "pure" flow of spiritual energy—not a single attribute, but a near‑primal, gentle, vitalizing breath that drifted faintly from some direction in the wasteland.

"That direction… the spiritual energy seems a bit more 'alive', and its density is slightly higher."

Wang Ping opened his eyes and gazed toward the depths of the wasteland, toward the area with the low‑lying hill contours.

He did not hesitate long. Staying put to recover was safe, but it also meant giving up the initiative.

The secret realm's opening time is limited; every step must be seized.

After choosing a direction, Wang Ping did not opt for conspicuous flight. In this unfamiliar environment, flying not only consumes spiritual power but also makes him an easy target for unknown entities.

He employed a lightness technique, his figure like a wisp of green smoke, skimming the ground as he darted toward his chosen direction, while extending his divine sense to a radius of a hundred zhang around his body, carefully probing every inch of land, every strange rock, every oddly shaped plant.

The abandoned wasteland was not as tranquil as its name suggested; Wang Ping had traveled less than a hundred li when he encountered the first attack.

The attackers came from underground.

As he swept over a seemingly flat stretch of sand, the sand beneath his feet suddenly exploded, and several earth-yellow tentacles covered in slime, tipped with chrysanthemum‑shaped mouthparts and lined inside with fine serrations, lashed out like lightning toward his legs!

"Sand‑evading worm demon?" Wang Ping's mind flashed with a name he had seen in the Dao Academy's beast compendium—a third‑grade demon beast that dwells in dry earth, excels at ambush, whose mouthparts secrete corrosive slime and possess considerable strength, equivalent to early Golden Core stage.

His reaction was extremely swift; in the instant before the tentacles reached him, his footwork shifted mysteriously, his figure drifting backward like willow fluff for several zhang, while he pressed his fingers together like a sword and slashed through the air.

Hiss! A strand of sword qi, exquisitely refined and pale‑green in color, shot forth, precisely severing the midsections of several tentacles.

Pfft‑pfft‑pfft!

The seemingly tough tentacles snapped in response, and from the broken ends spurted a foul‑smelling dark‑green juice.

From underground came a low, painful groan; the remaining tentacles hastily retreated into the sand, the ground heaved, and the demon beast, clearly badly wounded, burrowed away and fled.

Wang Ping did not give chase; he glanced at the sand that had quickly returned to calm, at the few segments of tentacle still twitching on the ground and the corrosive‑smelling juice they exuded, and grew more vigilant.

This was merely the "welcoming ceremony" on the outermost fringe of the secret realm.

On the ensuing journey, Wang Ping faced several more attacks: there were "Shadow‑Blade Lizards" that leapt from rocky shadows, lizard‑like but with bone spikes on their backs; there were "Ghost‑Face Vines" lurking in dead shrubs, capable of spraying paralyzing poisonous thorns; and once he spotted from afar what appeared to be an ordinary depression, which in fact was piled with dozens of wind‑dried, variably shaped skeletons—obviously a dreadful trap.

As he pressed deeper, the surrounding environment began to undergo subtle changes.

The surface rubble gradually diminished, the soil grew damper, the concentration of water‑Qi in the air noticeably rose, and a thin mist began to spread, carrying the faint scent of decaying vegetation.

In the distance, the outlines of those hills grew ever clearer; Wang Ping could tell they were not ordinary hills but resembled the accumulated fossilized bones of some colossal creature—fearsome and ancient.

As he crested a gentle slope formed from massive beast bones, the view before him suddenly opened up, causing his steps to halt instantly.

Ahead, it was no longer a wasteland.

An immense, boundless expanse of water, black as ink, lay still upon the earth—a "lake".

The lake surface was smooth as a mirror, reflecting a leaden sky without a ripple, so still it made one's scalp prickle. The water was jet‑black, not murky but a profound darkness that seemed to swallow all light.

Upon and around that black lake hovered and lay countless fragments of various sizes, each emitting a faint glow.

These fragments were irregular in shape—some like shards of stars, some like broken glazed ware, some like a kind of crystal…

They drifted silently, turning slowly; occasional collisions produced an extremely faint, wind‑chime‑like "ding‑dong" sound, which in this absolute silence seemed unusually clear and uncanny.

Farther off, the far shore was shrouded in thick, seemingly impenetrable gray mist, obscuring it from view.

Shattered‑Star Lake.

The name instantly sprang to Wang Ping's mind—a place mentioned by cultivators of the Hundred‑Races Tower, a famous and extremely perilous region within the Spirit Void Secret Realm.

The lake bore no waves, yet beneath its surface could lie deadly spatial rifts and unknown creatures.

The glowing "star‑shards" on the lake's surface might be precious star‑attribute materials, or they might be lures drawing one deeper into a trap.

The lake water itself is said to contain a strange power that can erode spiritual energy and cause the soul to lose its way.

Wang Ping stood on the bone slope, gazing far out at the silent, eerie black lake, his brow slightly furrowed.

Shattered‑Star Lake does hold treasures, but its danger level is extremely high.

As he weighed the pros and cons, his gaze inadvertently swept over a spot on the lakeshore.

There, on the damp ground near the water's edge, amid the shadow of a patch of dark‑red, claw‑like strange shrubs, there appeared an extremely faint azure glow—different from the surroundings and from those "star‑shards"—that flashed and vanished.

Though the glow was faint, it gave Wang Ping a sense of purity and nourishment, quite similar to the gentle vital‑spirit Qi he had sensed earlier.

"That is……" Wang Ping's heart stirred, "Soul-Condensing Grass?"

According to ancient records, Soul-Condensing Grass usually grows in a special environment with relatively heavy Yin energy but also nourished by pure soul power; it greatly nourishes and benefits cultivators' souls, and is one of the main ingredients in many high-grade pills used to nourish the soul, resist heart demons, and even assist in breaking through bottlenecks, being extremely rare in the outside world.

The environment of Shattered Star Lake is strange; amidst the stillness lies shattered spatial power and an unknown soul field, making it possible to nurture this.

If it truly is Soul-Condensing Grass, its value to him would be enormous.

Risk and opportunity once again lay before him.

Wang Ping's gaze was calm and steady as he carefully observed that lakeshore. The shrub thicket was several li from the Bone Slope where he stood, with relatively flat but moist beachland in between.

Within his field of view, aside from the lake surface and the shattered stars, he saw no other living things. But the fearsome reputation of Shattered Star Lake was certainly not baseless.

After a moment's contemplation, Wang Ping made his decision. He did not rush straight toward that point of light; instead, he moved cautiously along the Bone Slope, choosing a spot slightly higher ground with a better view and close to that shrub thicket.

At the same time, he restrained all his aura, lowering his presence to the minimum, like a lifeless stone, slowly approaching the lakeshore.

Each step he took was extremely cautious, his divine sense highly focused; he not only probed the ground and air, but also split off an extremely fine thread of divine thought to try to sense whether the space ahead was stable, with any subtle fluctuations.

The closer he got to the lakeside, the heavier the moisture in the air became, and that faint smell of decay turned into a more obvious odor, like stagnant old water mixed with rotting aquatic plants.

The soft earth beneath his feet became somewhat sticky.

Finally, Wang Ping arrived behind a huge black reef about a hundred zhang from that clump of dark red shrubs.

From here, he could see that point of azure light more clearly.

Indeed, it was Soul-Condensing Grass. There were about three stalks, growing in the yin-shaded rock crevices at the roots of the shrub thicket.

The leaves were slender and semi-transparent azure, with a grain‑sized fruit at the tip that glowed with flowing light, exuding a fresh aura that soothed the soul and spirit.

Judging by its form and the intensity of its glow, its age was at least a thousand years, and its medicinal potency was full.

However, Wang Ping's gaze did not linger on the Soul-Condensing Grass for long; instead, he fixed his eyes firmly on the patch of ground beside it, which appeared ordinary and even bore some dark green moss, yet was damp.

His divine sense caught an extremely faint, icy ripple brimming with greedy hunger emanating from there, subtly entwining with the pure soul‑power aura exuded by the Soul-Condensing Grass.

"Surely there is a guardian… or rather… a hunter." Wang Ping's eyes narrowed.

He did not act rashly, patiently waiting and observing. Time passed bit by bit; all around remained deathly silent, save for the tinkling of shattered stars colliding and a faint, intermittent wind.

Suddenly, that point of azure light seemed to sway slightly with the faint "wind".

At that very instant!

That "ordinary" patch of ground exploded violently!

Several pitch‑black, sucker‑covered vine‑like entities, faintly translucent and almost insubstantial, shot forth like poisonous dragons bursting from their dens with the speed of thunder, straight toward Wang Ping's hiding place!

They seemed able to sense the breath of life and soul, having already detected the lurking Wang Ping!

Before the vines arrived, a chilling, sharp pull that pierced straight at the soul reached him, causing his Sea of Consciousness to quiver slightly.

Soul‑devouring Demon Vine!

That name flashed instantly through Wang Ping's mind.

A strange lifeform between plant and demonic soul, adept at concealment, capable of emitting waves that directly attack the soul and devouring the spiritual power of living beings to strengthen itself.

Its true form fears fire and dreads thunder, especially the utmost yang and rigid force, yet it possesses extremely strong resistance to physical attacks and ordinary five‑element arts.

In the flash of lightning and spark of stone, Wang Ping moved.

He did not retreat, for retreating might lead him into worse terrain or trigger other traps.

Only seen, he flipped his right hand; an ancient, heavy little seal, emanating a faint yellow light, appeared out of nowhere, instantly expanding into a solid earth‑yellow light shield before him.

"Bang!"

Several black Soul‑devouring Demon Vines slammed hard onto the shield, emitting a dull impact sound. The shield shook violently, its yellow light rippling, but did not break.

The Heaven‑Overturning Seal, heavy as a mountain, easily blocked this swift strike.

However, at the instant of impact, a more chilling and sharp soul‑impulse wave seeped silently through the point where the vine met the shield, straight toward Wang Ping's Sea of Consciousness!

Wang Ping had been prepared; the wisp of Innate Sword Qi Seed nurtured in his Sea of Consciousness trembled slightly, emitting an invisible sharp intent that shredded the invading soul‑impulse into fragments.

"Surely troublesome!" Wang Ping's eyes turned fierce.

The probing is over; it's time to counterattack!

He formed a seal with his left hand and unleashed the Summoning Thunder technique.

"Yin Wood Divine Thunder, gather!"

"Crack!"

A deep azure bolt of thunder, carrying a purifying, explosive aura, condensed out of thin air above the Soul‑devouring Demon Vine and came crashing down!

Lightning is innately effective against yin‑type demonic entities.

However, that Soul‑devouring Demon Vine seemed to have prepared a counter.

Several vines violently intertwined to form a vine shield, its surface coated with a sticky black light that seemed able to absorb energy.

Boom! The Yin Wood Divine Thunder struck the black‑light vine shield!

Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

Yin Wood Divine Thunder is the bane of evil demons; even when the demonic vines gather together, they are still slain.

"As expected of Yin Wood Divine Thunder……" Wang Ping gave a faint smile.

Since the effect of Yin Wood Divine Thunder has been weakened, let's use an even more extreme power!

Just as he was about to pluck it, several more demonic vines came shooting forth, entwining.

Wang Ping's expression did not change; his internal spiritual power flowed and shifted again, Golden Yang Blazing Heaven.

"Blaze!"

Wang Ping pointed with his fingers together, and a thread of fire, refined to the extreme and showing a pale gold hue, shot out from his fingertips.

This fire line was as fine as a silk thread, yet it exuded terrifying heat and pure yang energy that dispels evil—nothing less than the compressed True Solar Fire he had harnessed.

The fire line flew with astonishing speed, striking precisely at the point where several vines converged—the most obscure, chilly fluctuation at their root—where a faint, constantly writhing, walnut‑sized black core resided, exactly the soul core of the Soul‑devouring Demon Vine!

The Soul‑devouring Demon Vine seemed to sense the deadly threat, emitting a silent, sharp hiss; all its vines frantically recoiled, trying to shield the soul core, while bursting forth with a stronger soul‑impact and chilling deathly aura.

But it's already too late!

Pfft—!

The pale golden fire line, like a hot knife cutting butter, easily pierced the hastily condensed death-energy shield and accurately struck that cluster of black soul core!

Scree—!!!

A shrill wail piercing enough to shake the soul burst forth, though this sound did not travel through the air but directly resonated on the soul level!

The mist within a hundred zhang around was shaken and scattered.

That cluster of black soul core, struck by the pure yang true fire, instantly like a red-hot iron ball dropped into ice and snow, spewed out large amounts of foul black smoke and visibly melted and shrank at a speed visible to the naked eye!

All the black vines brandishing claws and teeth instantly stiffened, then, as if all strength had been drained, they softly drooped and collapsed limp on the ground, their color quickly turning ashen, ultimately turning into a puddle of foul-smelling black pus that seeped into the soil.

The soul core completely dissipated, leaving only a tiny speck of inconspicuous black ash.

Wang Ping's expression remained unchanged; the recent battle had not been a significant drain for him.

However, he still cautiously waited a moment, repeatedly scanning the area with his divine sense to confirm the soul-devouring demon vine was completely dead and there were no other ambushes, before dispelling the light shield formed by the Heaven-overturning Seal and quickly stepping forward.

Approaching, he carefully dug up the three soul-condensing grasses together with a bit of soil around their roots and placed them into the prepared cold jade box that could preserve their medicinal potency and spiritual energy, storing them properly.

Upon touching it, a cool sensation came, and waves of comfort transmitted to his soul—it was indeed top-grade.

After gathering them, his gaze turned to the lake surface.

The lake surface remained as calm as a mirror, and those glowing fragments drifted slowly.

The recent fierce battle (though brief) seemed not to have attracted the attention of any presence in the lake. But this silence, instead, only made people more uneasy.

"Shattered Star Lake is no place to linger; it's better to leave early!"

Wang Ping thought to himself that he had a clear opportunity; the Myriad Methods Pool spoken of by Qingyu Daaneng was definitely one of the greatest opportunities in the Spirit Void Secret Realm, so there was no need to linger here too long.