Chapter 162

Do you know this thing? Tell us quickly.

Duan De urged, using his toe to gently play with the worm that had been cut in half; the wound's break was very neat, clearly killed by a single strike.

"I've only seen this in an ancient scroll; these are called soul‑eating insects, they devour other beings' souls to grow stronger, extremely yin and terrifying, and at their height they even bred saint‑level insect kings…"

According to Da Heigou, the soul‑eating insects are vast in number and terrifyingly strong; before the primordial era they were infamous, striking fear at the mere mention.

Even their insect kings have slain ancient saints; later a major sect from Zhongzhou acted, exterminating them all to prevent harm to the world.

"Logically such creatures should have been extinct long ago—how could they appear here?" Da Heigou wondered.

"Even ancient saints could be slain, this also…"

Duan De's arms broke out in gooseflesh, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

"Let's go, pay it no heed."

Yang Zhu merely glanced at it, then pressed deeper; though the soul‑eating insects were extremely venomous, they posed no threat to him.

He also knew this creature; even the strongest insect king that had ever appeared was only at the saint level, far inferior to primordial beings.

After advancing several hundred meters, a massive stone gate dozens of zhang high loomed before him; the gate was pitch‑black all over, as if forged from poured iron, immovable.

The gate's surface was carved with intricate patterns; perhaps due to the passage of ages many have blurred, yet one can still faintly see the extraordinary skill of the artist.

"Strange, the content here should be Buddhist, used to suppress and purify evil spirits—could something bad have happened before that person entered meditation?"

Although the runes are fragmented, in Yang Zhu's eyes they can self‑complete, presenting before him a perfect Buddhist sutra.

Carving such a sutra at one's own burial site undoubtedly leaves two possibilities.

The first is as Yang Zhu said; the other possibility is that something evil originally lay inside, and the sutra was meant to suppress it.

"This looks like the Diamond Sutra… could the one inside be a bald monk?"

Duan De, well‑traveled and knowledgeable, also recognized the content, and his expression immediately turned grim.

"You dead fatty, could there be something wrong with that Diamond… whatever scripture?"

Hei Huang instantly became alert; on such matters, the unscrupulous Daoist is certainly an authority.

Most importantly, he didn't want to make the trip for nothing.

Upon hearing this, the Yaochi Saintess also looked over; few people know much about the Western Desert, which is extremely mysterious.

Duan De frowned, stroking his chin with one hand as if pondering; after a long while he said, "The scripture itself is fine… but if the tomb really belongs to a bald monk, we'll be ruined!"

"Priest Duan, this…"

The Yaochi Saintess helplessly withdrew her gaze, having hoped to find something odd, yet all they ever think about is whether there's treasure.

"Woof! How could I forget this, Your Majesty? Last time the two of us opened a bald monk's tomb and came out penniless, not a scrap of gain."

Upon reacting, Da Heigou also blurted out "bald monk" repeatedly, the phrase rolling off his tongue easily.

"Or, as last time, if there's no treasure again, we'll twist off that bald head and kick it like a ball."

Da Heigou hooked his claws onto Duan De's shoulder, bared a mouthful of sharp teeth, glanced askance, and gave a lewd grin.

"Exactly! If we're sent on another futile trip, we'll twist his head off."

The unscrupulous Daoist slapped his thigh, shouted approval, and instantly thought of a place.

"Stealing graves isn't enough, they even lop off the corpses' heads—these two are nothing short of utterly depraved, smoking with wickedness! 'What are you saying?'"

Both wore wicked grins, but as soon as they turned their heads and met Yang Zhu's gaze, their smiles vanished.

"Well… we were just joking, just joking… I and Hei Huang will go scout ahead first!"

The two instantly lost their confidence, feeling guilty; they found any excuse and slipped away to the front.

"Hei Huang and the Daoist are special—they fear neither heaven nor earth, but only in your presence do they behave."

The Yaochi Saintess chuckled; describing them this way is already quite polite—who in the Eastern Wasteland speaks of these two treasures without changing expression?

"The Daoist has his own unspoken difficulties, Xiao Hei is just a bit mischievous, actually their nature…" He paused, then said, "All right, their nature does have a hint of badness."

Duan De's talent is not top‑tier; if he wishes to transcend the world, he must seek another way.

The Heavenly Tribulation Technique he cultivates requires constantly burying himself to achieve reincarnation; speaking frankly, his origins are terrifyingly vast.

Even one of the oldest and most mysterious forces—the Netherworld—was founded by him.

Now he is living his fourth life; with no sect to back him, he can only dig up graves and tombs to obtain treasures that elevate him.

"Brother Yang, we've found something!"

At that moment, a shout came from ahead—the unscrupulous Daoist calling out, as if he'd discovered something.

Yang Zhu and the other arrived in an instant, and a Dao‑fetus loomed into view.

The Dao platform is only a dozen zhang high—not especially grand—but it is exceedingly ancient; even before approaching, a bleak, primordial aura rushes over.

Moreover, the platform is surrounded by people, none weak in aura, all standing at its edge, eyes narrowed as they stare at the stone coffin atop the platform.

"I suspect the coffin holds a supreme treasure, but the area is sealed with restrictions—no one can approach at all."

"Just now the people of the Guhua Dynasty tried, but ultimately failed."

Everyone frowned; the coffin undoubtedly contains a supreme treasure, yet once one steps onto the platform an unknown force pins them down, making advance impossible.

Before, others tried and all failed; worse, some were gravely injured by that force, vomiting blood and nearly dying on the spot.

"Let this old man give it a try!"

One of the elders stepped forward—he was gaunt, his skin withered, his hair already white; he had surely lived several hundred years.

Although the elder is aged, beneath his bronzed skin lie coiled dragons dormant; his inner aura shocks many present.

"This is Qingshan Laoyao; it's said he entered closed‑door death seclusion a hundred years ago, and many thought he had passed away—yet here he appears."

"Who would have thought he broke through to the fourth level of the Dragon Transformation…"

Someone recognized the elder; his current cultivation is enough to be mentioned in the same breath as the supreme elders of many great sects.

"Whoosh!"

The Green Mountain Old Demon opened his mouth and spat out; in a stretch of azure clouds, seven bronze divine lamps emerged, neatly arranged into a rune, hovering above his head.

This is a Seven-Star Copper Lamp from the hands of a Sage; it disappeared over two hundred years ago, and I never expected it to be in his hands!

Someone exclaimed, the Seven-Star Copper Lamp has a significant origin; it is said that a Sage forged it to suppress an ancient savage beast, its power is tremendously terrifying.

(End of chapter)