Chapter 438: Making Fortune in Silence

Whoosh—

Again, another jade arrow's tearing-through-the-air sound rang out; the jade arrow was crystal clear and limpid, carrying immense power, its Dao patterns blazing brilliantly, able to easily rend the void.

The cultivators in the forest locked onto by the jade arrows felt an unprecedented danger; the lethal force on the arrows was shocking and extraordinary—even if they wanted to abandon the ancient glyphs now, the Tianhong Sect disciples would not spare their lives.

The Tianhong Sect cultivators were incredibly ruthless: if they didn't act, fine, but once they acted they sought to take lives—utterly domineering.

Under the life-or-death crisis, many cultivators flashed a hint of resolve in their eyes.

In the relics, the Stock God always faces such a strong enemy as the Tianhong Sect; any hesitation or delay is a fatal weakness.

A cultivator quickly took out a forbidden treasure from his storage bag—a pitch-black long sword as dark as ink, its blade flowing with a faint gloomy light, as if containing endless dark power.

"Everyone be careful, the Tianhong Sect's archery is not to be trifled with; don't try to block it head-on!"

That cultivator loudly warned his companions nearby, while his figure began to move swiftly through the forest, seeking the best defensive position.

Just then.

The Tianhong Sect disciples had already appeared at the forest's edge; these cultivators wore uniform silver-white battle robes, each holding a peculiarly shaped long bow that glimmered with a faint light—clearly not mundane.

At this moment, the Tianhong Sect cultivators' eyes were firm and cold, as if they had already regarded the cultivators in the forest as prey.

"Brothers, when narrow paths meet, the brave prevail!"

"If the enemy does not die, then we will die!!"

"Let's fight!"

The cultivator gripping the long sword shouted loudly, and his dark black long sword swung, releasing a black sword qi that sliced the air, pointing straight at the Tianhong Sect disciples.

However, the Tianhong Sect disciples were not frightened.

They quickly drew their long bows, and scarlet-flame arrows shot forth like meteors across the sky, aimed at Heifeng and the cultivators in the forest.

The arrows' speed was extreme, almost covering the entire forest in an instant.

The resisting Huanyu cultivators each deployed their own defensive measures, raising protective shields or using magic artifacts to block, but the Tianhong Sect's arrows seemed to contain a special lawful power, making ordinary defenses unable to fully block them.

The battle was about to erupt, and the forest brimmed with a tense and dangerous aura.

The hidden cultivators all clenched their fists; at this moment of life and death, they clearly understood that only by fighting desperately could they see hope of survival.

However, at this very moment, a mysterious force began to surge from deep within the forest; terrifying ripples swept the surroundings, as heaven and earth roared violently, with lightning, thunder, and raging winds howling.

Longling gazed over the entire battlefield.

By this point, the Huanyu cultivators had no hidden reserves left; their eyes held only the slaughter to gain more ancient glyphs.

The cultivators' goal was to exchange for what the statue's mouth spoke of.

Those terrifying ripples were emitted by a dreadful Suanni Dharma Aspect leaping out of the lush forest.

Around that Suanni, purple mist surged across the sky, causing the cultivators enveloped by it to show dazed, intoxicated expressions, then all collapsed unconscious on the ground.

Seeing this, the Suanni Dharma Aspect opened its mouth and inhaled, swallowing the unconscious cultivators whole, leaving none.

Among those devoured powerhouses, Longling discovered many elderly cultivators; from the Dao traces on their bodies, it appeared they were Heavenly Spirit Realm cultivators or higher who had severed their own cultivation after self-cutting, then sneaked into these Ancient God Sect relics.

Because the elderly cultivators' souls emitted the aura of the Five Declines of Heaven and Human, it was evident their lifespans were nearly exhausted.

They had severed their cultivation to stay alive and entered this place seeking a chance at life, never expecting to be discovered by the unparalleled heavenly talents of the major forces; after being slain, not a trace of their corpses remained—utterly a blood loss.

Longling's heart welled with pity—who could have imagined that, after fighting tooth and nail to unite with companions to reach this place, they would become each other's prey to be devoured, all for the immense hidden profit behind the ancient glyphs; even friendships forged through life-and-death trials appeared incredibly fragile.

The battlefield now appearing is excessively cruel—survival of the fittest, the strong devour the weak; under such harsh, vicious competition, only the ruthless strong survive.

Longling took a deep breath, a flash of determination glinting in his eyes.

He had just ordered Heifeng to obtain an ancient glyph in the forest earlier; the runes on the glyph were profoundly mysterious, possessing tremendous lawful power—clearly this competition was not as simple as the statue's surface words suggested.

Now the entire battlefield is suppressed by violent prohibitive force; cultivators seeking to seize an ancient glyph must consume more Spiritual Power, and left with no choice, some have begun to plunder others' Dao foundations for use.

If this cycle continues, it becomes like raising gu poison—even if a cultivator emerges victorious, only a few will remain.

Yet beneath the mortal danger lies hope: whoever can discern the fundamental nature of the ancient glyph can thereby gain power to recover, turning desperation into survival.

Longling's eyes shone with a bright luster as he began to carefully observe the battlefield, searching for traces of the scattered ancient glyphs.

The ancient glyph is now the source of conflict among the Huanyu cultivators; only by first snatching others' ancient glyphs can one use them to swiftly restore one's strength, handling the forest's restrictive forces with ease.

These ancient glyphs contain tremendous power; for cultivators they are a shortcut to increase strength, yet they are also the sole lifeline in this endless slaughter battlefield.

Boom—

A powerful aura came from not far away.

Longling looked up and saw a cultivator clad in black armor descending from the void, followed by a group of black-clothed people—obviously an expert from some major power.

The black-armored cultivator's gaze swept across the battlefield, finally settling on Longling, and he let out a cold laugh, saying:

"Little ones.

"Hand over the ancient glyphs you've collected, and I will spare your lives."

Heifeng's heart tightened upon hearing this; the opponent was very strong and numerous, and he was no match for them.

Yet handing over the ancient glyphs like that left him extremely unwilling.

After Heifeng took a deep breath, he turned his head and saw Longling wearing a calm, composed expression; his eyes immediately brightened.

He strove to make his voice sound calm and then spoke.

"These ancient glyphs were bought with our lives—how could we simply hand them over to others.

"You idiot!!"

After hearing this, the black-armored cultivator's eyes flashed with a hint of killing intent.

"Junior, you're courting death."

As soon as the black-armored cultivator finished speaking, the black-clothed people behind him surged forward like wolves and tigers toward Heifeng.

Seeing this, Heifeng showed no weakness; in the life-and-death clash, he fought with all his might.

Boom—

He quickly mobilized the spiritual qi within his body, and the runes on his palm emitted a dazzling light.

Heifeng faced the black-clad attackers lunging at him, showing no hesitation; instead, he rose to the challenge. The runes beneath his feet flickered, and the mysterious pattern etched into the ground emitted a sound like the earth splitting.

The mysterious ghostly footwork seemed simple, yet it was extraordinarily eerie; strands of eerie mist appeared in the air, and from all directions, wandering souls and wild ghosts swiftly gathered toward them.

At first, the black-clad fighters didn't take it seriously, but gradually they grew uneasy.

Bang bang bang.

Just then, another violent roar echoed from the sky.

Within the black mist, eerie figures drifted, moving as fast as lightning; specks of light struck one after another at the chests of the black-armored cultivators.

Instantly, a crystal-clear blood arrow burst from their chests, causing the black-clad cultivators to collapse one by one.

Seeing this, the people in the black-armored cultivators' ranks flashed with surprise, never expecting Longling's strength to be so great.

Their armor was forged from extraterritorial mystic metal, extremely hard; even ordinary cultivators of the Myriad Laws Realm would find it difficult to pierce, and the young man who had not yet acted was terrifyingly strong—piercing the black armor required only a single finger.

Such terrifying action already instilled a sense of crisis in them.

Heifeng finally exhaled slowly; indeed, Longling, as he had guessed, had kept a trump card.

Longling's earlier move was overly graceful, killing invisibly with a flick of the sleeve, making the five or six black-armored cultivators present wary and unwilling to act rashly.

"Quickly resolve it.

Then enter the forest to obtain the ancient sigils.

The number of Huanyu cultivators entering keeps increasing; even this position is no longer safe." Longling said.

Now is not the time to be careless; we must quickly resolve the current battle, otherwise, once more cultivators surround us, they will surely prevent us two from entering the forest to obtain the ancient sigils.

Rumble—

Under the cover of Heifeng's ghost dance, Longling's figure shifted like a ghostly wraith, exuding an unstoppable aura.

The black-armored cultivators fell like leaves swept by autumn wind under Longling's sword‑like finger gesture.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh"

After clearing the enemies around them, Longling and Heifeng rushed quickly into the deep part of the forest.

Along the way, the two turned into fleeting shadows, disappearing at the forest's edge; Longling's footwork was mysterious and ghost‑like, and each time his toes touched the ground, a mysterious rune was left behind.

Moreover, he discovered a crucial secret: Heifeng's ghost dance possesses a tremendous attraction for the dead; even if someone destroys the dead, the dead can absorb the ghost dance's gathered netherworld killing energy and quickly restore themselves to a complete corpse.

She, too, had tried it just earlier.

When she struck down those black-armored cultivators in the black mist, as the mist rolled, her attacks seemed divinely aided—both speed and power increased, and even her consumption of Spiritual Power was greatly reduced.

This discovery really surprised Longling.

She took a deep breath, letting her inner self gradually calm down.

Now, having ventured deep into the forest, whether it be the heaven‑proud sons of great powers, the supreme descendants of the ancient emperor, or peerless masters who have cut their own cultivation to come here for opportunity, all are gathered here.

Every step from now on is crucial; a moment's carelessness could lead to downfall.

Longling's gaze was as sharp as an Eagle Falcon's, scanning the surroundings for the ancient sigils scattered across the battlefield.

Each of these ancient sigils contains ancient power; they are treasures that cultivators dream of.

They are hidden deep in the ruined forest, even buried deep in blood‑stained land, and some are even wrapped in the spiritual aura of powerful cultivators after death, making them hard to detect.

Based on their rough memory of where the ancient sigils had fallen in the forest, Longling and Heifeng went to the corresponding locations to collect them.

They first arrived at a seemingly insignificant hill, where a few cultivators had once battled; traces of the fight still lingered on the ground, and in the end none of those cultivators survived—even the ancient sigils they had obtained while alive became ownerless due to the cultivators' mutual demise.

Longling crouched, gently brushed away the soil, and several ancient sigils lay quietly beneath the blood‑soaked earth.

Longling couldn't help but feel a surge of joy; he carefully picked them up, sensing the power flowing within the sigils.

Heifeng hesitated not at all; after Longling gathered the sigils, he swiftly collected the storage rings of the fallen cultivators, and together they cautiously pressed forward into the deeper forest.

Not long after, they arrived at a grove scorched by fire.

The cultivators' bodies and souls, hanging askew on the charred trees, had not yet fully dissolved; several ancient sigils were hung on a half‑scorched branch, faintly visible.

Longling lightly leapt, reached out to push aside those bodies and souls in the process of dissolving, plucked the sigils from beneath them, and the sigils glowed faintly in his hand, appearing quite mysterious.

As time passed, the number of ancient sigils collected by Longling and Heifeng grew.

The two complemented each other: Longling was responsible for gathering the sigils, while Heifeng took the opportunity to collect the storage rings of the fallen cultivators, then used the Myriad Soul Banner to harvest the souls from those cultivators whose bodies and souls had not yet fully dissolved.

These fallen bodies and souls were at least at the Heavenly Spirit Realm in cultivation; the souls hidden within them were the supreme essence for the Myriad Soul Banner, and as the banner consumed more Heavenly Spirit Realm bodies and souls, the eerie, fierce aura upon the black Myriad Soul Banner grew richer and vaster.

It was like a dormant volcano sealed in dust, its interior churning and forging violently, awaiting the moment of eruption that would unleash heaven‑shattering, earth‑destroying power.

"Indeed, just as guessed.

If one wishes to obtain sufficient power within the forest's restrictions, treasure‑seeking cultivators must continually acquire ancient sigils.

The more ancient sigils there are, the greater the power they grant to cultivators.

Longling gazed at the sigils in his hand, and a gleam of wisdom appeared in his eyes.

However, this also has a drawback: the sigils bear interconnected Dao markings.

Each holder of the sigils faintly senses the others, so every cultivator knows the positions of the other sigil‑bearers; weaker cultivators are thus exposed to the strong and then killed, body and spirit destroyed.

Buzz buzz buzz

Just then, several alluring figures landed before Longling and Heifeng; the sudden enemy instantly halted their collection of the sigils.

During this period, they had been going, according to their memories, to places in the forest where cultivators fought over the sigils—battlefields where everyone ended up dead—trying to avoid meeting other cultivators, secretly gathering the sigils to make a fortune in silence.

However, as the number of sigils increased, someone eventually set their sights on them.

Longling gazed at the alluring female cultivator before him; her strength was not to be underestimated.

Her seductive eyes flickered with greed and killing intent; their gazes met briefly in mid‑air, and the air was thick with a tense, sword‑drawn atmosphere.

"These ancient sigils, you cannot digest.

The leading female cultivator held a jade flute, speaking coldly; the flute was covered in mysterious runes, obviously a treasure for sound‑wave attacks.

"Hey there, a few fearless ones have shown up.

If you're wise, scram now; otherwise, don't blame us for being ruthless.

Heifeng's eyes flashed with a stern cold gleam.

During this time they secretly collected ancient talismans together; he had already witnessed Longling's strange methods, and the Ten Thousand Souls Banner in his hand had already devoured many Heavenly Spirit Realm cultivators, greatly increasing the banner's power, so Heifeng's confidence grew even more.

Even if he couldn't defeat the enemy, Longling was still behind him!

Purple‑red runes on the Ten Thousand Souls Banner above Heifeng's head flowed, looking extremely sinister and strange.

"Boastful and shameless, you dare to vie with the Fragrant Blossom Pavilion for treasures

"Seek death."

The woman holding a jade flute in the Fragrant Blossom Pavilion replied coldly.

Her figure swiftly moved toward Heifeng, the jade flute intertwining with the ghost dance killing aura, each clash bearing a life‑and‑death struggle.