Chapter 249

Outside the Jialan Secret Realm, the Golden Core elders of the Four Sects of the Great Ming and over a dozen of their Foundation Establishment disciples sat cross-legged beneath the secret realm's entrance.

Suddenly, the void above Tianchan Laozu's shoulder rippled, and a golden toad phantom appeared, emitting a few soft "gua" calls.

Upon hearing this, Tianchan Laozu's expression changed slightly.

"Tianchan, what's happened?" Li Guang of the Setting Sun Sect asked, puzzled.

"One of my cultivated Tianchan incarnations appears to have perished inside the secret realm," Tianchan Laozu replied, his face darkening.

"That Tianchan was a third-rank spiritual beast—its incarnation should have at least second-rank power. How did it even get into the secret realm?" Li Guang blinked in surprise.

"Hmph, how else? I simply followed the example of some great monk—used a secret technique to suppress part of my cultivation and forcibly lower my realm. Even so, it's not something a mere Qi Condensation cultivator could kill," Tianchan Laozu sneered, glancing at the Guangfa Old Monk on the other side.

"Amitabha," Guangfa Old Monk murmured, his expression unchanged.

"That Tianchan incarnation was hidden on the girl in the palace gown, wasn't it? She's one of Tianchan's descendants. If the incarnation is gone, her condition is likely dire," the old woman added slowly.

"Mei Ya is indeed the most outstanding among my descendants. I hope she escapes misfortune. But since my Tianchan incarnation has fallen, there must be opponents stronger than Qi Condensation inside the secret realm," Tianchan Laozu sighed.

Hearing this, the other three Golden Core elders' expressions darkened.

…

In a sealed chamber on a certain floor of the tall tower, a bronze dantian furnace stood at the center, surrounded by four yellow gourds floating in the air, each spewing forth multicolored, eerie flames that burned fiercely beneath the furnace's base.

The entire furnace radiated waves of heat, making the chamber unbearably stifling.

The kind-faced old monk held a green banana leaf fan and steadily fanned the furnace.

The strange flames surrounding the furnace rose and fell with each swing of the fan—sometimes surging over a zhang high, sometimes collapsing into feeble flickers, appearing deeply unnatural.

After a short while, a strange, muffled cry like an infant's wail echoed from within the furnace, and a rich medicinal fragrance spread through the air.

"Heh, luck seems good. I haven't brewed this pill in how many years—and the first batch succeeded," the old monk murmured, a faint smile appearing on his face, yet he immediately swung the banana leaf fan three more times with a "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."

"Sssss."

The multicolored flames beneath the furnace vanished entirely, extinguished by an unseen force.

The old monk's banana leaf fan vanished in a flash; he then calmly withdrew a crimson box from his sleeve, stood up, silently recited a mantra, and sent a series of hand seals toward the furnace with his other hand.

"Boom!"

The furnace's lid suddenly exploded upward, and a thick black mist erupted from within, mingling with a powerful medicinal aroma.

The mist was chilling beyond measure; as it spread, the chamber's temperature plummeted instantly, as if summer had turned to winter in an instant.

The old monk ignored all of this, instead extending his five fingers toward the black mist and grasping the void.

"Waa," "Waa," "Waa."

Three infantile cries rang out again.

In his palm now rested three pale black pills.

Each pill was semi-translucent, with a faint, shadowy black humanoid figure flickering inside, and each bore a clear, pale yellow medicinal pattern on its surface.

"Pity—all are low-grade. None reached mid-grade," the old monk muttered, glancing at the pills, yet his lips curled slightly, clearly satisfied with his pill-crafting skill.

At that moment, the entire chamber shuddered violently with three "boom" sounds, as if a massive tremor had come from far away.

The smile on the old monk's lips vanished. He placed the three pale black pills into the crimson box, then turned toward the empty air beside him and said calmly:

"Old friend, you're back."

"These outsiders truly have some tricks. Your arrays and descendants alone can't hold them—delay them for me."

"Once we subdue that Fan Body and retrieve the treasure, we can leave this ghostly place."

No sooner had he spoken than the air beside him rippled, and a faint black shadow emerged, wreathed in black mist, its features and form blurred, only a pair of wild, blood-red eyes visible—its hand seemed to clutch something heavy.

"I… go… kill… outsiders… Jia… reincarnation… you… handle…" The black shadow spoke in a stammering child's voice.

"Of course—that was our agreement long ago. The outsiders are yours to deal with; I'll handle the Jialan reincarnation immediately. Don't worry—we're nearly ready to leave," the old monk said, stroking the crimson box's surface, his gaze flickering.

"Then… good… I go… soon… wait… this… bad… taste… for you." The black shadow stammered two more phrases, then raised its arm and hurled something heavy onto the ground. The nearby air blurred, and its form vanished again.

The old monk stared at the giant toad corpse now lying on the floor, a hint of surprise crossing his face.

The giant toad was covered in pale golden spots, but blood streamed from its seven orifices; a large chunk of muscle was missing from one thigh, with clear bite marks visible.

…

Wang Yu held a white formation disc in his hand, surrounded by gentle winds, swiftly moving through the misty sea, the white fog parting before him.

Moments later, he suddenly stopped, staring at a vast expanse of spider spirit corpses ahead, his expression grim.

This was the very place he had passed not long ago—he had circled back, returning to his starting point.

Wang Yu took a deep breath, glanced at the moon above, then fixed his gaze on a direction and without hesitation, summoned the gentle wind again, speeding past the area before him.

After nearly half a quarter-hour.

Wang Yu reappeared from the opposite side of the region. Upon seeing the scene ahead, he halted once more.

He looked at the white formation disc in his hand, his expression shifting uncertainly.

He seemed trapped within a certain restriction of the formation. Though the disc could disperse the mist, it could not guide him out of this area.

Yet since he dared enter this formation, he naturally had some confidence.

Thinking this, Wang Yu slapped his waist pouch. "Swoosh!" A pale blue banner, about a chi long, flew out and he caught it, pouring cultivation energy into it.

This was one of the three Water-Repelling Banners he had taken from the Tenth True Disciple of the Mo Luo Sect.