Simultaneous traversal: All Abyss difficulty.

Chapter 800 Waiting for the Nascent Soul Stage
The Crimson Forbidden Land is a narrow cave shaped like the throat of a giant beast.

The air was thick with the smells of decaying leaves, blood, and the rust of damp stones; it was so sticky you could almost squeeze water out of it.

At this moment, the only passageway was blocked by people.

The disciples from various factions were covered in blood, their breathing was disordered, and their faces bore the weariness and ferocity unique to the forbidden area.

They were forced to form a crooked, resentful long line.

At the front of the group, in a slightly wider section of the passage, a figure hung blatantly in mid-air.

The brand-new blue shirt stood out almost defiantly against the gray and desolate landscape.

Fang Yu stood with his arms crossed and his toes slightly off the ground, in a lazy posture that defied the laws of physics.

His face was expressionless, even carrying a hint of boredom, but the occasional flash of lightning in his slightly narrowed eyes caused all the raised gazes below to quickly retract as if burned.

The atmosphere was as oppressive as the thick fog before a storm.

"Damn it, it's him again!"

In the middle of the line, a burly man from Tianque Fort squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

A female disciple from the Hidden Moon Sect standing nearby turned deathly pale, not from her injuries, but from humiliation and fear.

She bit her lower lip so hard it almost bled, clutching a storage bag still warm to the touch, her knuckles white.

Beside her, several fellow disciples looked away, their bodies trembling almost imperceptibly, as if recalling the terrifying scene of a senior sister being instantly chopped into charcoal.

"Hurry up, those behind, keep up." Fang Yu's voice was not loud, even "gentle," like an ordinary customer urging a stall owner to give change in a market.

But these words, when they reached the ears of the crowd, were more chilling than the most vicious curses.

"Time is of the essence in the Crimson Trial. Fellow Daoists, please don't linger here looking back every few steps. I would feel terrible if I delayed your treasure hunt."

A tall, thin cultivator dressed in Huangque Sect robes stood at the head of the line, his facial muscles twitching. He reluctantly pulled out an ordinary spiritual herb from his robes, its spiritual energy sparse and its leaves somewhat wilted, and held it shakily above his head.

"Senior Brother Fangfang, look at this." The skinny man forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace, trying to get away with it.

This thing, even if you throw it on the roadside, probably no one will pick it up.

Fang Yu, suspended in mid-air, didn't even lift his eyelids, only letting out a short "heh" from his nose.

The "Heh" startled the man.

"Crack—!"

No warning!

A dark, thundercloud, swirling with an aura of destruction, floated above his head.

The ingratiating, humble, and hopeful smile on the skinny man's face hadn't even fully solidified or faded yet.

Realizing what was about to happen, the skinny man hurriedly shouted, "No! You dare kill me?! Do you know who I am?! You're just a mere Qi Refining cultivator! Even if you have a Thunder Treasure, you... You dare! You dare, I'll make your whole family pay with their lives!"

Hearing the threat, Fang Yu maintained his smile. He patted the skinny man on the shoulder and said, "Why are you so agitated? I'm just bluffing, I won't actually do anything. My principle is that if someone attacks first, I attack later. It's all retaliation."

"But you...it seems like you were threatening me just now."

His smile froze.

Then--

"boom--!!!"

The deafening roar was amplified and bounced back infinitely in the narrow cave, causing eardrums to ache and the mind to feel like it was about to break!
The dazzling purple light instantly engulfed the tall, thin figure, erasing him, along with the pitiful withered grass and all his unfulfilled fantasies, from this world.

The light dissipated.

All that remained was a charred, twisted mass, barely recognizable as a human figure. A pungent, nauseating stench, a mixture of burnt flesh and ozone, spread rapidly like a plague, seeping into everyone's nostrils and churning their stomachs.

"vomit"

Someone couldn't help but gag.

silence.

A deathly silence enveloped the passageway.

All that remained were the wailing of swirling miasma, the distant roars of unknown monsters, and the suppressed, heavy breathing and chattering of teeth within the ranks.

All the resentment, anger, and bitterness were completely frozen and crushed at this moment by the pure and violent aura of death.

All that remains is a deep-seated fear and a numbness born of survival.

Fang Yu finally moved.

He casually waved his hand, dispelling the faint wisp of smoke in front of him.

Then, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the pale, terrified faces below, his tone carrying a hint of helpless lament, "You really don't know what's good for you."

"Tsk, am I not gentle enough?"

“To be honest, in a place like this,” he pointed to the forbidden soil beneath his feet, a symbol of blood, death, and plunder, “a ‘strongman’ like me, according to the normal script, you should already be lying in a pit, your storage bags stripped clean, and you can’t even keep your underwear.”

"And what about me?" Fang Yu spread his hands, looking like he was some kind of saint, "I'm still here calmly and gently asking you for things."

His gaze, like a cold probe, precisely pierced several people in the group whose eyes were darting around and who were instinctively clutching their waists or chests.

"We should be content, my friends."

"Come on, next one."

Fang Yu raised his chin, his voice regaining its gentle yet authoritative urging, "Hurry up, don't waste your 'precious opportunity'."

The line moved forward in a deathly silence.

This time, no one dared to hesitate or take any chances.

The cultivators at the back of the line trembled as they pulled out everything they could find that carried spiritual energy, offering it with both hands, afraid that if they were a step too slow, they would become the next soul to perish in the stench of burning flesh.

The intense, suffocating smell of burning blood became the most effective catalyst at that moment.

The cruel laws of the Blood Trial were vividly demonstrated at this moment by the figure in green robes suspended in the air.

In the pursuit of immortality and enlightenment, death is an everyday occurrence.

Ironically, these terrified cultivators have taken far more lives than Fang Yu.

Fang Yu is nothing more than a minor mountain patrol demon, let alone a demon.

The people's anger wasn't just because their opportunity had been stolen.

What angered them was why they weren't the ones robbing or seizing.

Having looted most of it, Fang Yu returned to his "little home" in the Bloodstained Forbidden Land.

He sat cross-legged in front of the stone platform carved from spirit jade, with floating materials shimmering with spiritual light collected from various parts of the Crimson Forbidden Land before him—the starlight of Star Soul Grass, the translucent chill of Ice Crystal Lotus, a few spirit herbs of decent age, and a pile of miscellaneous ores and spirit objects shimmering with different lusters, like a nouveau riche who had just robbed a treasure vault.

"After refining these and consuming the pills, I went from Core Formation to Nascent Soul?"

"Then you'd be invincible!"

(End of this chapter)