Chapter 483

The Zhai Shou realm, with the internal elixir ninefold transformed, generates change in threes.

Every three levels, there is a qualitative ascent and transformation.

Zhang Fan’s accumulation was so profound, nourished by the Water Mansion, siphoning the Xu family’s destiny, sustained by the incense and spiritual power of the Xijiang region, and now further fortified by the essence of two great demons—everything came together naturally.

The Great Snake of Mingshan was at the fourth transformation of the internal elixir, with deep cultivation, having once absorbed the essence of the Great Jiao of Qinling.

The Black Pool Earthworm Marquis was at the third transformation of the internal elixir, his demonic arts perfected, refined through the black marsh mud.

Only the internal elixirs and spiritual cores of these two great demons granted Zhang Fan such a transformation, finally entering the second tier of the Zhai Shou realm, achieving the fourth transformation of the internal elixir.

The hollow valley sunk underground had long since become ruins, dust swirling, true flames flying.

The terrifying residual ripples of the spiritual platform’s radiance still raged and spread through the air.

Two colossal bodies lay before him, their ferocious aura still lingering.

The black snake’s scales mingled with crimson flesh scattered across the ground; the pink earthworms were shattered into fragments, drenched in thick, foul-smelling fluid, utterly devoid of life.

Far away, Wang Zhaolin gazed at the scene, his eyes fixed on Zhang Fan, filled with deep reverence and wariness.

Two sovereign-level demons had died here in Yin Xu, in this dark, sunless underground world, slain by a man his own age.

Shattering the flesh, refining the internal elixir, swallowing the spiritual core—this seamless sequence of actions must have been forged through countless battles and trials, cultivating such skill and audacity, such bearing and momentum.

“The Divine Demon Holy Embryo… besides the Great Spirit Zong King, there is another in this world who has cultivated this method.”

At this moment, a voice roared within Wang Zhaolin’s heart.

He had not forgotten—the terrifying, overwhelming pressure when Zhang Fan’s spiritual core exited his body.

Before the spiritual core, that power was like heaven and earth, like divine demon.

According to his understanding, among the Nine Supreme Methods, only one person in this world should be able to cultivate it.

“The annihilation of the Southern Zhang clan forged this anomaly,” An Wuyang thought, watching Zhang Fan, his mind a tangle of thoughts.

Hum…

At this moment, Zhang Fan turned around, stepped forward, and landed in the ruined hollow valley, walking to the strange large stone.

The strange life-root, like human meridians clinging to the stone, seemed to breathe.

Zhang Fan sensed faint currents continuously surging from the stone, carrying moisture and warmth, as if hiding the rhythm of life.

“Finally in hand,” Zhang Fan sighed.

With this, he could find the Living Dead Tomb and enter it.

Thinking of this, Zhang Fan extended his right hand and grasped the life-root; an odd sensation traveled up his fingertips.

Suddenly, strange visions floated before Zhang Fan’s eyes, and the hollow valley around him instantly restored to its original state—flowers bloomed and fell in an instant of life and death.

What he held felt like a cluster of fire, yet also a pool of water, yin and yang intertwined, indistinguishable.

“This…”

Zhang Fan instinctively looked down—his right hand, gripping the [life-root], had already turned into a skeleton.

His skin, flesh, sinews… all tangible essence vanished instantly, like the scattered petals on the ground, returning to soil, reborn as flowers.

At this moment, Zhang Fan became part of the boundaryless cycle of life and death, a segment within the cycle of existence and nonexistence.

“The Great Dao has no gate of life or death; the turning of the four seasons is heaven’s grace. Beyond the calamity, idly watching stars shift; in stillness, smiling as the moon sinks.”

Suddenly, an odd voice echoed beside Zhang Fan, like sutra recitation, like sacred chant.

He snapped his head up—the stubborn stone before him radiated boundless light, brilliant as if a human figure hid within the realm where life and death met, where mystery gave birth to Dao’s rhythm, where emptiness gave rise to great law.

At this moment, the stubborn stone was no longer stubborn.

He seemed to have transcended life and death, united with the Dao, truly comprehending that life and death were merely natural transformation—human worldly existence could no longer disturb him in the slightest; even all beings near him were anchored in the eternal, unchanging Dao, becoming part of spring, summer, autumn, winter, dusk and dawn, blooming and falling.

Who recognizes the True Constant Realm? This stubborn stone is the true king.

Boom…

Suddenly, the dim underground hollow valley shook violently; the stubborn stone radiated boundless light, and within the [life-root] clinging to it, star-like radiance emerged.

Within that radiance, Zhang Fan’s form grew hazy, as if he would become the stone, become the flowers, become part of the hollow valley.

“Little aunt? What’s happening?”

Wang Zhaolin, entranced, could not help asking.

“Senior…”

At this moment, even An Wuyang turned to look at Wang Zhaolin, a hint of concern in his brows.

“You youngsters have no idea of the profundity of the Nine Methods.”

“Jia born, Gui dead—that is the method to transcend the constancy of life and death. The life-root is the immortal substance left behind by its cultivator,” Wang Qiluo said solemnly.

“Unless one bears this method, one must not touch it lightly,” Wang Qiluo’s beautiful eyes shifted.

“To touch it lightly is to break the boundary of life and death, to trespass into the forbidden realm.”

“Heaven will not permit it. Earth will not forgive it.”

“Will he die?” Wang Zhaolin could not help asking.

Wang Qiluo remained silent, watching Zhang Fan’s form grow ever more hazy in the hollow valley, her clenched jade hand suddenly loosening.

Then, she stepped forward, entering the hollow valley.

“Little aunt!” Wang Zhaolin’s face paled—he cried out in shock, but it was too late.

Wang Qiluo appeared beside Zhang Fan; her own boundary grew hazy, as if merging into the boundless light.

Within the life-root, she could now perceive its microscopic structure—everything filled with star-like radiance.

Suddenly, Wang Qiluo raised her jade hand and placed it on Zhang Fan’s shoulder.

Hum…

Instantly, Wang Qiluo’s spiritual core stirred; her slender body trembled violently, her mysterious frequency resonating with the life-root.

“Hm!?”

At this moment, An Wuyang’s eyes widened—he observed with his spiritual core and saw within Wang Qiluo’s body, star-like radiance emerging, nearly identical to the life-root, though less pure and intense.

Boom…

From Wang Qiluo’s dantian, her internal elixir spun mysteriously, radiating golden light; the star-like radiance within her surged like an inverted Milky Way, flowing toward Zhang Fan’s body.

Suddenly, tiny specks of star-like radiance appeared within Zhang Fan’s body; his previously hazy form grew sharply clear once more.

At this moment, he seemed to have stepped out of the cycle of life and death.

Boom…

Simultaneously, countless lights and sounds burst forth from the star-like radiance, soaking into Zhang Fan’s spiritual core, appearing before his eyes one by one.

“Even if I die, I will die with you.”

In the dim underground world, a soft yet unyielding voice rang out.

Dark winds howled, demonic energy surged; terrifying phenomena shook the underground world, as if ready to tear open the ceiling.

In a pool of blood, a girl embraced a youth drenched in blood, becoming his final shield, enduring the demonic winds that tore at her snowy skin, never loosening her grip.

At this moment, her gaze was utterly resolute.

“You haven’t escaped the calamity. Staying here will only mean certain death,” the youth gritted his teeth.

His eyes were deep as endless night; even at this brink of life and death, he remained unnaturally calm, save for the faint worry in his gaze toward the girl.

“I will die with you,” the girl said stubbornly.

She held the youth tightly; the demonic winds cut like knives against her body, blood streaming, yet she never released her hold.

“Zhang Lingzong, all of Southern Zhang are dead—how can you possibly survive?”

Suddenly, a chilling voice came from an unknown direction.

Hum…