Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

He pushed through the thick, blood-red fog, a heavy, sluggish feeling pressing down on him, and the jade pendant in his palm suddenly became hot. The Lightning Leopard pressed close to his side, its ear tips taut, its tail drooping, its muscles poised to strike. The surrounding area was eerily silent; even breathing felt like walking on a knife's edge.

Suddenly, a sound drifted from the mist—like a sigh, like a sob, like countless souls chanting an ancient incantation in one's ear. The leopard's mane stood on end, its nostrils flared, and its eyes blazed with alarm. Lin Daochen's brows furrowed, his gaze sharp as nails, piercing into the depths of the mist. He then stepped forward, his boots crunching through the thin ice with a crisp sound.

He had long ago concluded that the evil thoughts of Kuafu's disintegration lurked here, and the only way out was hidden in this fierce heartland.

Not far ahead, a desolate plaza suddenly appeared before them. Several mottled stone pillars stood in a circle, their surfaces covered with heavily etched seal script characters, each one as if carved by a knife and axe. Lin Daochen frowned as he deciphered the characters, while Lightning Leopard slowly circled the plaza, its nostrils twitching as it sniffed the ancient, deathly aura floating in the wind.

In an instant, the air in the center of the square suddenly distorted, and a ghostly light exploded, revealing a human figure that went from ethereal to real—massive as a mountain, wrapped in a robe of surging blood, its face hidden behind the chaotic mist, leaving only a faint smile.

The voice, like a breeze blowing over a cold pool, drifted in leisurely: "Lin Daochen, the Kuafu Domain is heavily fortified. How did you manage to get in?"

Lin Daochen raised his eyes and looked directly at the hazy scene, his tone calm: "Following the footprints of the Lightning Leopard, we walked across the long slope formed by Kuafu's arm bone, and finally arrived here."

The figure in the blood-red robe nodded, a sinister glint in his eyes: "Interesting. To have this beast guide you, you must possess something extraordinary. The domain of Kuafu is not for ordinary people—what do you seek?"

Lin Daochen took a breath, his back straight as a pine tree: "I'm just looking for a way back. This place is hidden, and I know nothing about it; but you standing here are the only people I can ask."

The man's lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes: "Commendable courage. However, to inquire in this realm, you must first pass a test."

Before he finished speaking, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through the center of the square, and dozens of ghostly figures burst out of the ground—their armor was tattered, their weapons were gleaming, and ghostly blue flames flickered in their eye sockets, all locking onto Lin Daochen.

His spine tightened, his palm clenched the white jade, his knuckles turned white, and his heart pounded like a drum, knowing that the real trial had begun.

"Lin Daochen, let's fight side by side!" The mysterious figure suddenly exploded, transforming into a blinding streak of blood light, and plunged straight into the ghost battle formation. Lin Daochen's pupils shrank, and a chill ran down his spine, but then he thought, this path on the edge of a knife might be the only way out.

The battle erupted in an instant. The ghost warriors formed an iron wall formation using unpredictable techniques, their blades flashing and accompanied by a chilling wind. Lin Daochen moved with the speed of a willow branch, his toes barely touching the ground as he shifted his position. At the same time, he let out a clear howl, and the Lightning Leopard pounced, its claws tearing through the air, arcs of electricity exploding like thunder.

The white jade in his palm was warm and radiant, its glow flowing like a living thing, protecting his vital organs.

The Lightning Leopard charged forward with ferocious speed, swift as lightning, causing the ghostly array to shake violently. Lin Daochen's understanding deepened with each attack—these ghostly figures would pause for a split second before striking, leaving a three-inch opening in their footwork. He used his own agile movements to coordinate with the Lightning Leopard's ferocious rhythm, their offense and defense locked in a tight struggle, gradually turning the tide. But the mysterious figure's lips curled into an ever-widening smile, unfathomable, as if awaiting a predetermined ending.

The fighting spirit intensified, and the air itself seemed to tense. Lin Daochen's breathing was steady, and the white jade light, initially gentle, blazed brightly, illuminating the beads of sweat on his forehead. Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure crashed down, and the mysterious voice rang out again: "Lin Daochen, you've gone far enough—the final trial begins now."

Lin Daochen stepped into the depths of the Blood Palace. Crimson light surged on the walls, and a chilling aura pierced to the bone, as if the entire palace was breathing slowly. Fu Yunzi's whispered words still echoed in his ears. The Blood Sword hummed, guiding his way. He gritted his teeth, staring intently at the crimson light, following the aura of Kuafu's primordial spirit, plunging headlong into the deeper darkness. The escape route had already collapsed; only the direction the sword pointed was the only path to survival.

The Blood Sword moved like a living snake in his hand, its tip leaving a trail of scorching blood, hissing as it cut through the air; Guang An Ancestor's ancient sword also rose from the void, its blade trembling, two streaks of blood light reflecting each other, like two dragons leading the way, cleaving a clear path through the blood mist.

Outside the Blood Palace, the mountain peaks trembled. The expressions of the various patriarchs changed drastically, most turning and retreating hastily, knowing that this calamity was beyond human control; only three or five remained, gritting their teeth and standing firm, unleashing their natal magic weapons to withstand the overwhelming pressure like a landslide and a tsunami. Dark clouds rolled in the sky above the divine city, roof tiles shattered, and the streets were filled with people fleeing and crying out—if no sages intervened, the entire city would likely have been crushed to dust.

But the moment the sage moved, the world changed color. Golden divine chains descended from the heavens, and holy power surged like a bursting river, causing the entire earth to shake violently. Even Lin Daochen, far away in the Blood Palace, felt the stone slabs beneath his feet cracking inch by inch. His heart sank: outside, the world must have been turned upside down.

At the same moment, the boy was completely bound by golden light, his limbs stiff and his eyes unfocused. A hoarse, icy voice escaped his throat, each word like an ice pick: "You've miscalculated... utterly and completely wrong." Before he finished speaking, his eyes suddenly glowed a ghastly green, his pupils twisted and deformed, clearly indicating that his soul had been seized by some indescribable being. The cultivators outside only heard his agonizing screams tearing through the air, unaware that this body had already been taken over by a different master.

Lin Daochen didn't stop. The further he went, the thicker the space became, the denser the blood mist was, and the stone steps beneath his feet seemed to slowly writhe. The blood sword trembled more intensely, its cry like a lament, its direction becoming increasingly resolute—Kua Fu's primordial spirit was ahead, and the exit was also ahead.

Suddenly, the void ahead shattered with a "crack," and a crimson vortex spun and expanded, its portal wide open. The blood sword trembled violently in his hand, its tip pointing directly at the center of the vortex. Without the slightest hesitation, Lin Daochen leaped into it. In an instant, the world spun, his body was pulled like a kite with a broken string by a tremendous force, and his consciousness drifted in the chaos.

When he opened his eyes again, the bloody light had vanished. Before him lay a vast expanse of heaven and earth, the dome a deep, clear blue, the land stretching endlessly. In the distance, a colossal mountain rose abruptly from the ground, its summit shrouded in an indescribable, mysterious light. He lowered his gaze; the blood-stained sword lay quietly in his palm, its faint light shimmering like the undying beat of a heart.

Behind the boy, eight figures silently appeared—hunched over, twisted, with flesh rolled up, their limbs twisted at impossible angles, their appearances vaguely discernible, exactly like the sage's rope shadow hanging in the sky, only stretched, crumpled, and soaked in despair.

A blinding black light burst forth from the child's body, and a mournful cry tore through the sky, causing the winds and clouds to churn and the mountains to groan. The ancient sages' millennia-long game of chess had finally been overturned—the heavens and earth were out of balance, and all things grieved.

Mo Wuyan stood before a plain, unmarked stele, its surface blank, yet like a bronze mirror reflecting the past. His gaze was heavy, memories flooding back, and his throat tightened slightly. Eight hunched, deformed black shadows lurked behind the stele—his former brothers-in-arms, and his former self. Now, their bones misaligned, their flesh distorted, they were creatures he dared not even look at in his nightmares.

Their hearts tightened, but they felt no resentment: in that fierce battle that scorched the heavens and boiled the seas, they were the ones who used their own bodies as fuel to burn through the iron curtain laid down by the ancient sages.

Zhang Yang stood silently to the side, his hands at his sides, taking in the entire scene. Watching Mo Wuyan's taut back, like a fully drawn bow, he suddenly understood the meaning of destiny's relentless flow. He exhaled a breath of pent-up emotion, straightened his spine, and his eyes suddenly blazed brightly—he silently clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white, vowing to walk Mo Wuyan's final journey. The road ahead was fraught with peril, but some things, if you don't give your all, you haven't truly lived.

Outside the Blood Palace, Lin Daochen suddenly heard a roar as loud as tearing silk, and his brows furrowed instantly.

The misty veil was torn apart, and a dark afterimage burst forth, carrying an overwhelming pressure, heading straight for Lin Daochen's face! He spun around, his robes fluttering wildly, and was actually forced back half a step by the shockwave.

Looking closer—the dark figure had stretched out its dragon body, transforming into a hundred-foot-long black dragon. Its scales resembled tempered obsidian, shimmering with an eerie light; its pupils were like two clusters of ghostly blue flames, chilling to the bone. With a flap of its wings, the sky darkened instantly, as if it had swallowed the entire firmament whole. Evil energy surged, and a foul wind swept over, making it a veritable calamity crawling out from the deepest depths of the netherworld.

What the hell? Lin Daochen's heart trembled. The Blood Palace was located within a ten-mile radius, yet such a ferocious beast was hidden there! The heavy oppressive feeling made his shoulder blades ache, but his retreat was long gone, and he had no choice but to fight.

The instant he looked up, a long, dark shadow streaked across the sky—a hundred-foot-long python, like a bolt of black lightning tearing through the clouds, its roar deafening. The python lowered its head, its crimson eyes like two blood lamps, coldly sweeping over Lin Daochen and the Lightning Leopard before turning and fleeing at breakneck speed, leaving only a fleeting afterimage.

The overwhelming force of the attack caused the Lightning Leopard's mane to bristle, its limbs to tense, and a low growl to escape its throat. Lin Daochen, however, did not draw his sword. Instead, he slid away, dodging the air currents like ripples on water. The giant python brushed past him, creating a whirlwind that sent sand and gravel flying, but not a speck of dust touched his clothes.

Just as the python's tail was about to disappear, a chilling and bone-piercing pressure suddenly descended! Lin Daochen's back hair stood on end, and he twisted his waist and spun around—a red line was already in front of him! The red light was bewitching, as thin as a spider's thread, yet it seemed capable of tearing through the void, and the buzzing sound made one's teeth ache.

His pupils constricted sharply, and he shouted, "Flash!" The Lightning Leopard retreated in response. He himself twisted to the side, the crimson line grazing his nose, the force of the wind stinging his cheek. In the distance, a cloud of blood mist suddenly exploded in the direction the giant python had fled, accompanied by a mournful howl, as if the entire snake's body had been crushed by an invisible giant hand!

Lin Daochen's brows furrowed, his breath catching in his throat. The red line and the giant python's escape were no accident—there must be a connection! He suddenly looked back and saw billowing smoke and dust, broken branches flying everywhere, and several jagged furrows carved into the ground.

Before the chaos subsided, the red line appeared again! This time, it pierced the sun like a poisonous needle, precisely striking the vital spot of a fleeing giant python. The python's body arched violently, its scales shattering inch by inch, blood raining down, its massive body collapsing with a crash, twitching a few times before stiffening and remaining motionless. Slender as a hair, yet weighing a thousand pounds—Lin Daochen's fingertips were icy cold, his palms sweating, experiencing true chill for the first time.

"What is that?" His voice was extremely low, his eyes like hooks, fixed intently on that smear of crimson. That power was unlike anything from the mortal realm—unpredictable, cold, and irresistible. This place was no longer just a dangerous spot, but a living trap, every step treading on an unknown blade.