Chapter 347

"The Lord of Wu Quxing speaks too highly of himself."

The Taiyin Star Lord shook her head slightly, her crisp voice carrying a hint of solemnity.

"An opportunity to lend a hand was already promised beforehand; no extra reward is needed."

She paused briefly, then continued, "The ancient Xuehuang Sect is mentioned only sporadically in the Star Palace's Juan Sect records; its ways are devious, famed for blood-refining arts. That 'Shixue Tian Dao' is indeed its relic—a most evil and bloodthirsty weapon."

"Such a weapon carries heavy murderous aura; it easily backfires upon its master and stirs the wielder's inner demons, inciting indiscriminate slaughter. In my view, the best course is to seal it in an absolute dead zone—or find a way to destroy it utterly."

"The Star Lord speaks wisely." Chen Mu nodded in agreement.

He had no interest in the demonic blade requiring blood sacrifice; had it not been to draw the Taiyin Star Lord's aid, he would never have mentioned it as payment.

"Let's go see the ruins first." The Taiyin Star Lord said no more, proposing the move herself.

"Agreed." Chen Mu replied.

The two wasted no more time and swiftly departed the Star Hall.

At the edge of the floating island outside the hall, Chen Mu took out the Star Token once more, pouring pure true energy from within him to form a pale golden aura that enveloped the Taiyin Star Lord as well.

Hum!

Starlight flickered; space folded.

The next instant, their figures vanished from the Star Palace.

…

Ghost Wail Island, edge of the pit.

An invisible ripple spread through the air, like a stone cast into still water.

Immediately, the void twisted slightly, and Chen Mu and the Taiyin Star Lord emerged as if stepping from a ink painting—materializing out of thin air amid a sea of corpses and blood.

The Taiyin Star Lord's gaze swept calmly over the scattered corpses of Tong family guards and itinerant cultivators, Tong Zhenjiang's torn remains, and Tong Shoutian's body lying face-down with a bloodied hole in his brow—beneath her mask, a faint, almost inaudible laugh seemed to sound.

"This Tong family heir, scheming so meticulously against Wu Quxing, has brought upon himself utter ruin."

Chen Mu's tone was flat, as if describing a trivial matter, "His heart is malicious; he sought to pave his path of greed with others' lives. Such an end was inevitable."

The Taiyin Star Lord gave a slight nod and no longer paid attention to the corpses.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if piercing through over ten meters of earth and rock, carefully sensing the fluctuating energy emanating from the pit's depths.

After a moment, her crisp voice spoke: "Two anomalous energies lie below. One is sharp and steeped in heavy bloodthirsty malice, dense and unyielding—it must be the 'Shixue Tian Dao.' The other is obscure, cold, brimming with malice, and subtly linked to the entire ruin's aura—likely the ancient evil left behind."

As she finished speaking, she did not wait. Her form shifted lightly, drifting down like a feather, descending directly into the dark pit.

Her movement was ethereal, utterly free of worldly dust, yet so swift it left only a faint pale moon-white afterimage in the air.

Seeing this, Chen Mu immediately activated his own movement technique and leapt after her into the pit.

The pit's bottom was dim, lit only by faint beams of daylight seeping through cracks above and faintly glowing mosses or minerals deep within the ruins.

The air reeked of thick blood, dust, and an indescribable cold, rotting stench.

Before them lay a chaotic ruin of ancient architecture.

Massive Shi Zhu lay toppled and broken; walls carved with strange patterns half-collapsed; shattered stone platforms and bases scattered everywhere.

More horrifying still, dozens of recently dead cultivators' corpses lay sprawled among the ruins.

Without exception, all had turned into desiccated corpses—skin tightly clinging to bones, grotesque and terrifying, clearly drained of all blood and essence in an instant by some force.

Judging by their attire, they were the members of the earlier "expedition team" who had jumped down without hesitation.

A sharp, sinister aura—seeming forged from countless vengeful spirits and blood—filled the air, like a cold venomous serpent, lying in wait, ready to invade the minds of intruders.

Both Chen Mu and the Taiyin Star Lord were no ordinary beings; each activated their cultivation methods and easily repelled the unowned demonic blade aura.

Following the strongest source of that sinister energy, they moved through the broken walls and rubble for roughly dozens of meters.

Ahead, the space suddenly opened into a relatively intact area.

At its center stood a stone platform, carved from a single block of black stone, now half-collapsed.

The platform's surface and surrounding ground were etched with incredibly complex, dizzying dark red patterns—as if drawn with blood mixed with some special material, still vivid after countless ages, radiating an ominous aura.

Above the half-collapsed platform, about three feet in the air, a long blade floated silently.

Its blade was slender and elegantly curved, yet exuded an uncanny aura; its entire body glowed a dark red, like congealed blood.

Around the blade, thick blood aura swirled, nearly solid, flowing slowly as if alive.

At its edge, invisible sharpness flickered, slicing the surrounding air with faint hissing sounds.

It hung there in stillness—as if asleep, yet quietly absorbing the blood and resentment permeating the air.

"It is indeed the 'Shixue Tian Dao.'"

The Taiyin Star Lord's gaze fixed on the blade, her crisp voice carrying a note of confirmation: "And judging by the density of the surrounding blood aura and the lingering fresh blood scent, Tong Shoutian's blood sacrifice has brought it to a 'half-satiated' state—its malevolence has been temporarily suppressed."

She turned to Chen Mu: "Now that the demonic blade is dormant, this is the perfect moment to attempt a preliminary imprinting using your own essence and soul. If Wu Quxing wishes, you may try."

But she added immediately, "Yet this blade remains a demonic weapon. Even if temporarily suppressed, its nature cannot change. Without the Xuehuang Sect's specialized blade-control techniques, every future use will still require blood sacrifice to unleash its power."

"Prolonged use will more easily corrupt your spirit with its demonic malefic aura, twisting your nature, gradually driving you toward bloodlust, until you become nothing but a slave to the blade."

Hearing this, Chen Mu's mind stirred.

This description was strikingly similar to the "Chi Jiao Zhu" he had previously obtained!

Both were immensely powerful yet carried severe side effects—and even backfired upon their masters—"cursed weapons."

For such forces requiring uncontrollable costs to wield, Chen Mu had always kept his distance.

His martial path sought absolute mastery over his own strength—not enslavement by external objects.

Thus, he shook his head and declined: "Thank you for the warning, Star Lord. This demonic weapon does not align with Wu Qu's way. It is better left to your disposal."

The Taiyin Star Lord showed no surprise at his choice; she softly "hmm"ed and said no more, her gaze returning to the floating Shixue Tian Dao as if contemplating how to handle it.

Yet just then—

Hu!

An extremely cold, evil, hellish stench—like wind rising from the deepest Nine Heavens—swept forth without warning from a collapsed corner deep within the ruins.

"Watch out!"