Chapter 10: Regret

"Yin soldiers?"

Yang Zhu quickly thought of that mysterious force; could it be that the Demon Saint and the Underworld have some unknown connection? Yellow Spring Water and Yin soldiers have already appeared—could it really be as guessed? Yang Zhu retreated to Jiang Yi Fei's side, and after confirming he was not in mortal danger, he secretly let out a breath.

"What's wrong with me?"

Not long after, Jiang Yi Fei woke up, sat up from the ground, gently rubbed the brow, trying to recall what had just happened.

Originally they were still immersed in the shock of the Nine Secrets, but who expected the scene to suddenly go dark, after which they lost consciousness.

Thanks to their cultivation level and their status as an heir of the Ancient Aristocratic Clan, they possessed a life-saving treasure; logically, they shouldn't have been so easily subdued.

But which mysterious force the enemy belongs to, just hearing its name makes people tremble with fear, and this place seems to be their main battlefield.

All these reasons combined explain how Jiang Yi Fei could be silently snatched away.

"Encountered a mishap, but I'm fine now."

"Thank you."

Jiang Yi Fei's cheeks were as white as jade, undoubtedly handsome; they gave a gentle smile, lightly tapping their chin.

Given their intelligence, how could they not know that Yang Zhu had just saved them? They silently remembered this favor, and will surely seek to repay it when the chance arises.

Hum—At this moment the bronze coffin trembled slightly, the iron chains binding it shaking violently, emitting a clear sound.

"What should we do—should we retreat?"

Things happened too suddenly; nobody knew what was going on.

After a moment's thought, Yang Zhu shook his head and said, "No rush—I want to see what's inside."

The trembling grew more violent, eventually causing the whole cave to shake.

Bang! Bang! The iron chains binding the bronze coffin couldn't withstand the strain, pulled tight by immense force, then one after another snapped! The chains all broke completely; freed from its bonds, the bronze coffin gave a muffled thud and crashed down.

Immediately they discovered that, at the moment the coffin hit the ground, all the surrounding formations vanished completely.

With the restrictions gone, the two stepped forward together to examine.

"There's a restriction above, but no danger—it's like a seal."

Jiang Yi Fei leaned in to inspect; drawing on their rich experience, they reached a conclusion.

"Just open it and see."

Having said that, Yang Zhu reached out and pushed forward, releasing an invisible force in an attempt to open the coffin lid.

Boom boom boom! The coffin lid was extremely heavy; every slight movement produced a dull thud.

The huge sound reverberated in the enclosed space, growing deeper, like endless heavenly music, deafening.

At one moment, their hearts seemed to skip a beat, feeling an indescribable palpitation.

When the coffin lid was fully opened and laid flat on the ground to one side, that feeling completely disappeared.

Yang Zhu leaned in to look; the expected remains did not appear, and inside the coffin lay only a piece of clothing.

"What's going on?"

Seeing this, Jiang Yi Fei couldn't help but frown; given their knowledge and experience, they had never heard of such a thing before.

That garment wasn't special at all; in fact, it was quite ordinary.

It was neither glazed silk nor specially processed fabric, simply a coarse hemp garment.

Perhaps it had been worn for too long, causing some areas to fade, making it look utterly plain.

The only striking feature was a pool of bright red blood on the chest of the upper garment; despite the passage of time, it remained vivid, as if it had just been shed.

The coffin held no corpse, but a blood‑stained outfit, everywhere exuding an uncanny aura.

After confirming there was no danger, Yang Zhu gently reached out, intending to pick up the outfit to check whether anything was hidden underneath.

Who would have thought that, the instant their fingers touched the garment, the blood soaked into the chest seemed to come alive, growing more vivid and emanating a powerful mysterious aura. The blood flashed with iridescent light, a faint halo enveloping the surroundings, shining brightly.

"What's happening?"

The sudden change startled both of them.

Under their gaze, several patterns peeled away from the blood, slowly rising and condensing into a line of text.

Yang Zhu held his breath, focused, quickly read through the content, and instantly felt a sigh.

According to the brief description above, the master of the Yin Tomb is indeed a Demon Saint, known as the Azure Feather Demon Saint.

"The Azure Feather Demon Saint was astonishingly talented in their youth, already renowned far and wide by the age of twenty."

"Later they even shook the Eastern Wasteland; a stomp of their feet sent clouds surging in all directions, commanding wind and cloud—who would have thought…"

Jiang Yi Fei had heard of this person's deeds; recalling them filled them with sighs.

Back then everyone thought they had entered seclusion to aim for a higher realm, but little did they know their time was up.

According to the text, the Demon Saint in those days had vigorous blood and energy, with a lifespan of at least a thousand years, yet they somehow came into contact with something terrible.

From then on strange occurrences became frequent; they encountered many uncanny events, gradually their consciousness grew hazy, and at times they would act uncontrollably.

Even after attaining sainthood, they could not find the cause, let alone resist it.

One can imagine how helpless they felt back then.

Nowadays saints are rare to appear; great abilities are practically the foremost combat power on the surface.

Becoming a saint is like being reborn—a qualitative leap; the difference in realm is as vast as heaven and earth.

Below a saint, everyone is but ants—not just an empty saying.

In life they endured endless torment; to avoid being entangled after death, and even to prevent harming living beings, the Demon Saint devised a countermeasure.

They took their personal clothing, without hesitation sacrificing their cultivation, soaked it with their heart's blood, and then buried it in the bronze coffin.

This was to achieve the aim of "stealing the beam and replacing the pillar," tricking that thing into thinking the person in the coffin was them.

At the same time they chose an extremely yin‑laden site, building the tomb beneath the Yellow Spring Water, relying on the yin terrain to conceal their qi and avoid detection.

As the saying goes, the darkest place is under the lamp; the more dangerous the spot, the safer it is.

"A generation's powerhouse, just to avoid harming the world—truly painstaking."

After understanding the antecedents and consequences, both couldn't help but feel regret; a generation's powerhouse, in high spirits, actually encountered such a thing.

They looked around, carefully examining the altar below; according to what they learned, inside was sealed something related to the Demon Saint.

The Demon Saint's Natal Magic Treasure, a complete Holy Artifact, was likewise affected by that thing, becoming extraordinarily perilous.

"The thing is down below; what do you think?"

Yang Zhu asked for the other's opinion; his inner thought was to help the Demon Saint refine the Holy Weapon, fulfilling his wish.

"This is too perilous; how confident are you?"

Jiang Yi Fei deeply knew the might of the Holy Weapon; only a trace of Holy Might could make a mountain range before it seem as fragile as paper, easily shattered.

Before the ancient era, Sages, to avoid laying waste to the Northern Dipper, all chose to go to extraterritorial realms for battle.

The might of the Holy Weapon makes people tremble with fear! Even in Holy Lands, such transcendent beings possess few complete Holy Weapons; most are damaged.

"How can we know without trying?"

Yang Zhu spoke lightly, his resolve firm; he swore to refine it.

(End of Chapter)