Cultivation begins in Qingfeng Market.

That night, the city walls of Zixuan Capital gleamed with a cold white light under the moonlight.

More than a hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators came from all directions, their powerful spiritual light forming a continuous expanse, like a swarm of moths drawn to a flame.

Among them were independent cultivators, elders of small families, and disciples of sects disguised as independent cultivators.

There were also those familiar faces who left Cangyun Mountain—the few from Xuanchen Valley, and more than thirty disciples from the sect.

Zhou Yuanqing took the lead, followed by more than thirty fellow disciples, their faces filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"Old Ghost Zheng is dead, and his Core Formation relics are in the royal palace!"

"A third-tier spiritual item! Grabbing it would be a stroke of luck!"

"Charge in! Kill anyone who tries to stop us!"

The shouts of battle were deafening.

Lin Zhao watched this scene through the recording stone, her eyes as calm as if she were looking at a group of ants.

The recording stone was sent back by those ten Foundation Establishment cultivators before they died.

The screen was shaking violently, and occasionally a few streaks of blood could be seen flashing by, followed by more Foundation Establishment cultivators pouring into the city gate.

The capital city has a protective array, but at this moment the array is not fully activated—or rather, it is deliberately not activated.

The guardian cultivators on the city gate symbolically unleashed a few spells before being overwhelmed by a tidal wave of Foundation Establishment cultivators.

"This is going too smoothly," Yan Chiheng muttered from the side. "It's unbelievably smooth."

Lin Zhao remained silent.

In the scene, Zhou Yuanqing has already led his men to the main gate of the palace.

The palace gate was three zhang high and was made entirely of black iron, with dense defensive runes engraved on its surface.

More than a dozen Foundation Establishment cultivators attacked simultaneously, their magical artifacts slamming into the door and exploding into bursts of fire.

"boom--"

The palace gates remained completely still.

"Again!"

More than a dozen spells were unleashed.

The palace gates began to tremble, runes flickered, and finally—

"boom!"

The door was broken.

Amidst the smoke and dust, Zhou Yuanqing was the first to rush in.

Then, everyone heard a sigh.

The sigh was very soft, as soft as the wind blowing through the leaves.

But every Foundation Establishment cultivator present heard it clearly, as if someone had whispered a sigh in their ear.

Then, things changed.

An invisible force field suddenly unfolded from the depths of the palace, expanding outwards at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Wherever it passed, the air stagnated and spiritual energy stopped. The Foundation Establishment cultivators who were flying were as if they had been struck by an invisible hand, and they fell from mid-air one by one.

jurisdiction.

The domain of a True Immortal who has reached the Core Formation stage.

Moreover, it wasn't just the Law Domain—under the capital city, streaks of spiritual light shone forth, revealing array foundations buried for many years.

The power of the array merged with the domain of magic, forming a huge cage with a radius of fifty miles.

At the edge of the cage, spiritual energy twisted into a tangible wall of light, hanging high in the sky like an inverted giant bowl.

"Old Zheng isn't dead!"

"A trap! It's a trap!"

"Run!"

But it was too late.

Within the Dharma Domain, the Foundation Establishment cultivators were more than ten times slower.

The magical artifacts that could normally travel several miles in an instant were now like being stuck in a swamp, inching forward inch by inch.

Someone gritted their teeth and used a secret technique, burning their life essence to forcibly accelerate—but after flying only three miles, they were cleaved in two by a beam of spiritual light descending from the sky.

The sigh rang out again.

This time, there was a hint of helplessness.

"I have been planning this scheme for thirty-seven years."

An aged voice echoed from the depths of the palace, reverberating throughout the entire realm, "I had hoped to catch a big fish or two. What a pity..."

His tone was tinged with disappointment. "The big fish didn't come; instead, a bunch of clueless little shrimps showed up."

Zhou Yuanqing's face turned pale, but as a disciple of a sect, his temperament was much stronger than that of a rogue cultivator.

He gritted his teeth, took out a jade talisman from his robes, and crushed it—

A hundred-foot-long sword light shot into the sky!

That was a life-saving technique bestowed upon him by his master, equivalent to a strike from a Core Formation cultivator.

The sword light tore through the magic domain, striking straight into the depths of the royal palace!

Almost simultaneously, eight other auras erupted from various parts of the crowd—talismans, magical artifacts, and phantoms summoned by secret techniques.

Nine Core Formation techniques were simultaneously unleashed in one direction, their power so great that even a fifty-mile-long domain trembled!

"There's a chance!" someone shouted. "Let's attack together and break out!"

The image on the photographic stone shook violently, making it almost impossible to see anything.

But Lin Zhao still managed to capture that scene—

Deep within the royal palace, a massive, dark purple cauldron slowly rose.

The cauldron was a hundred feet long, dark purple in color, with gilded demonic patterns on its surface swirling with an eerie red light.

The handles of the cauldron are two ferocious demon heads, and orange-red flames burn inside the cauldron's belly. As the flames surge, countless runes can be vaguely seen dancing.

Purple Xuanding.

The Zheng family's inherited magic weapon, a low-grade third-tier magic weapon.

The cauldron slowly rotated, and a vast spiritual force pressed down like a mountain.

The first sword light struck the cauldron, blasting out a shower of light.

The cauldron wobbled, and a shallow mark appeared on its surface—but that was all.

The second, the third, the fourth...

Nine Core Formation techniques were unleashed in succession upon the Purple Profound Cauldron.

Each impact felt like a meteorite crashing down.

The shockwave swept across the area, leveling buildings within a ten-mile radius.

Those Foundation Establishment cultivators who couldn't dodge in time were torn apart by the shockwave, their screams echoing throughout the room.

However, thanks to the formation of the capital, the Purple Mystic Cauldron ultimately did not collapse.

It hangs in mid-air, slowly rotating, like an unshakeable mountain.

After the ninth attack was completed, the cauldron finally swayed, and the inscriptions on its surface dimmed slightly.

But it was only dim.

"Impossible..." Zhou Yuanqing murmured, "Nine Core Formation techniques... how is this possible..."

Deep within the palace, that aged voice rang out again, this time tinged with weariness.

"If I hadn't been prepared, those nine Core Formation techniques would have certainly given me a run for my money."

The Zheng family patriarch said, "But this is my territory. I have guarded this place for thirty-seven years."

Thirty-seven years of preparation—even a Core Formation cultivator would die here. It's a pity those old devils, so cunning, pushed you out here to test me and send you to your deaths.

Zhou Yuanqing's legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground.

"Senior! I am a disciple of the Yunhai Cangming Sect! My master is True Person Fuyao! I beg you, senior, for the sake of our sect..."

Several more Foundation Establishment stage cultivators knelt down beside them, vying to announce their sects: "Junior disciple of Xuan Chen Valley!" "Junior disciple of the Zhu family of the Heavenly Fire Dynasty!" "Junior disciple of a rogue cultivator, but my master is..."

The Zheng family patriarch remained silent.

The silence that followed made Yan Chiheng on the other end of the recording stone hold his breath.

"What's he thinking?" Yan Chiheng asked in a low voice. "Is he really planning to release them?"

Lin Zhao did not answer.

After a long while, the sigh sounded for the third time.

"The Prince Xin's Mansion and the Prince Ning's Mansion together have twenty-three Foundation Establishment cultivators and a total of three thousand seven hundred and forty-two people."

The Zheng family patriarch said, "When you killed them, did you ever consider that they were also descendants of Core Formation royal families?"

Zhou Yuanqing's face turned deathly pale: "That was...that was done by the Loose Cultivator Alliance! It has nothing to do with us!"

"The Loose Cultivator Alliance?" The old patriarch laughed, his voice hoarse. "Aren't you the Loose Cultivator Alliance?"

Zhou Yuanqing was speechless.

"And..." the patriarch's voice faded into the distance, "Do you really think those Core Formation stage old ghosts care about ordinary disciples like you?"

The Purple Mystic Cauldron slowly descended from a height of several hundred feet.

Countless flames poured down from the mouth of the cauldron, like a burning waterfall.

"No--"

Zhou Yuanqing roared, using all his magic power to erect a shield.

The shield held out for a moment in the flames before shattering.

The flames engulfed him, as well as the thirty-odd disciples of the sect.

The image on the photo stone abruptly ended.