Mountain Venerable and Sea Immortal

The fog was so thick that one could not see their own hand in front of their face. The ancient plains, which had been clear and open just moments before, were instantly swallowed up by the surging gray-white fog.

The fog was no ordinary mountain morning mist; it rose continuously from the cracks in the underground pillars and from the fractured earth veins, thick and heavy, lingering between heaven and earth, shrouding the entire ancient site in a dark and desolate cage.

Lin Yan spread his divine sense and stepped into the mist, immediately noticing the anomaly.

A cool mist brushed against the skin, carrying none of the warmth of the spiritual spring. Instead, it clung to a wisp of obscure, chilling turbidity, seeping into the nose, mouth, and meridians. The spiritual energy flowing through the body subtly stagnated, and the divine sense spreading across the sea of ​​consciousness was blocked by layers of barriers, only able to probe the area a few feet in front of the body. The suppressive power, far exceeding that of ordinary miasma in secret realms, rushed towards them.

The thick, grayish-white fog flowed on its own without wind, refusing to dissipate in the light. It surged from the cracks in the earth and the depths of ancient pillars, instantly engulfing the entire ancient plain. While ordinary poisonous miasma and malevolent fog can leave traces, this fog was silent, colorless, and odorless, specifically targeting the soul and sea of ​​consciousness. It could render cultivators' spirit-detecting techniques ineffective and their qi-gazing methods obscured. Even the collections of noble families and the ancient books of sects had never recorded such an ancient anomaly.

In an instant, a strong sense of unfamiliarity and unease rose in the hearts of all the cultivators. Everyone was on edge, and no one knew what kind of ancient danger was hidden in the mist of the Imperial Ruins.

Everyone else was affected by the miasma, but Lin Yan alone remained completely clear and untouched by any dust in the mist.

The Dingyuan Pearl, with its clear, restrained shimmering light, steadily locked down his sea of ​​consciousness, undisturbed by any evil. The inkstone, hidden within spiritual power, emanated a pure and righteous aura that flowed throughout his body, cleansing away all illusions. The miasma that filled the sky surged towards him was silently dispersed and purified, unable to get even a fraction closer.

As the miasma invaded their spirits, the group from Laoshan were the first to be affected, falling into a deep illusion.

The first to be affected was Chen Dagang, who was the most resolute and had the deepest obsession.

The thick fog invaded his mind, instantly tearing apart his mental defenses and weaving together scenes of the past etched into his very bones.

The scene shifts back to his impoverished yet warm childhood. In a dilapidated thatched hut, under the dim light, his elderly mother is mending his winter clothes stitch by stitch. She scrimped and saved to raise him from a lonely child to adulthood. All the tenderness and warmth in the world originates from this simple old woman.

In an instant, the scene changed drastically, becoming violent and ferocious.

Su Chen and Hai Lan from Laoshan bullied the weak, provoking trouble over trivial matters. Their elderly mother was captured and subjected to all sorts of abuse and humiliation while protecting them. Young Chen Dagang, consumed by rage, rushed forward to fight, but in his desperation, he lost control of his strength and killed the ringleader of the Laoshan scoundrels with his own hands.

Blood stained his homeland; a tragedy forged a lifelong, indelible demon in his heart.

In the final moments of the illusion, the image remained fixed on the dying, venomous pupils of that scoundrel. His mangled body lay on the ground, his resentment lingering, his vengeful spirit howling incessantly, vowing to seek revenge for him life after life, until death do them part.

Scene after scene repeated themselves, guilt, anger, regret, and fear piling up layer upon layer, completely trapping Chen Dagang's soul. He stood frozen in the thick fog, his body tense and trembling, his fists clenched so tightly that his palms tore open, his eyes bloodshot, completely lost in his old dreams, oblivious to the approaching killing intent from the outside world.

Following closely behind, Yunxi, who was always aloof and had a steadfast Dao heart, could not escape the impact either.

She cultivated the Pure Heart Sword Dao, guarding her mind and maintaining self-discipline year after year. However, the Bewitching Miasma of the Ancient Imperial Ruins specifically targets and destroys people's obsessions, making no distinction between those with high and low Dao hearts. The moment the dense fog entered her consciousness, it wove a gentle yet unsolvable illusion for her.

The illusion begins on the vast mudflats of the eastern sea.

Orphaned and destitute as a child, she drifted to the coast, homeless and alone, until she was fortunate enough to be found and adopted by kind-hearted ordinary foster parents. The couple treated her better than their own daughter, raising her with care and tenderness, giving her the only stable home in her turbulent life.

The scenes shift, and time flies by.

On the cliffs of the East Sea, she and Lin Yan stood side by side in the wind, watching the tides rise and fall, and the clouds drift and gather; in the deep valleys of Laoshan, the two joined forces to eliminate demons and overcome perilous situations. The young man's sword intent was steady, and he always stood in front of her to protect her; in the sect, they accompanied each other day and night, devoted themselves to cultivation, and walked together year after year, silently guarding each other.

All the unspoken admiration and longing hidden in her heart, all the tender understanding shared day and night, were amplified infinitely by the miasma. The woman, as cool as the moon, let down all her defenses and stood quietly in the thick fog, her eyes gentle and her lips curved into a faint smile, willingly indulging in this perfect illusion, unwilling to awaken.

Qingyao was also deeply tainted by the miasma.

She had lived in a watery, fairyland for a long time, and was used to seeing mist and clouds, but had never encountered such a domineering mist of the soul.

The illusion opened, freezing the moment she first met Lin Yan. The mountains and rivers were vast, a gentle breeze caressed her face, and the young man was composed and upright. At first glance, a faint but indelible feeling of goodwill quietly settled in her heart.

Then the scene shifts to boating on the river and sea, with endless clouds and water.

A lone boat drifted on the vast expanse of blue waves. She and Lin Yan stood side by side at the bow, chatting about interesting things about the mountains and seas, and gazing at the clouds and moonlight together. The river was calm and peaceful, and life was gentle and serene...

At this moment, magnified infinitely by the bewitching miasma, beautiful scenes repeated themselves in a loop. Qingyao's eyes were gentle and lost in thought, completely intoxicated by the illusory scene of their reunion.

All other disciples from Laoshan, Shuiyue Pavilion, and Qingyun Sect were also affected. Some saw their sects flourishing and their own great achievements in the illusion; some dreamed of reuniting with relatives and friends and having their long-cherished wishes fulfilled; some were tormented by the anxiety and fear hidden in their hearts, their expressions were flustered, and their steps were unsteady.

Except for Lin Yan, the entire team lost their composure and chaos ensued.

The disciples of the Wang and Hao families were in no better shape; most of them had unfocused eyes and unsteady steps, each tormented by their own inner demons and obsessions. The entire marching group across the ancient plain was completely paralyzed, everyone lost in delusion, unaware that they were already in grave danger.

Within the entire sea of ​​mist, cultivators from all sides were affected, their souls and spirits ensnared.

Seeing that everyone was trapped in the illusion and exposed to the murderous intent in the fog, Lin Yan no longer hesitated and quickly made hand seals.

As Lin Yan's Foundation Establishment spiritual power surged forth, the Inkstone and the Dingyuan Pearl immediately rose into the air and hung there, their spiritual light intertwining and resonating with each other. Then, he activated the Sea Spirit Crystal Essence within his origin, and the three streams of spiritual energy from the same source merged together, transforming into a thick and stable spiritual light shield that enveloped and protected everyone present.

The pure energy of the barrier enveloped him, and the illusory world dissipated.

As everyone gradually awoke, they vaguely recalled the scenes from the illusion and the various reactions they had made. Some covered their blushing faces, while others took the opportunity to tidy themselves up and subtly alleviate their embarrassment. Lin Yan didn't say a word and waited quietly.

Once everyone had fully regained their senses, he stepped forward and said softly, "Let's go. The road ahead is even more dangerous."

The deeper they ventured into the mist, the more intense and chilling the murderous intent within the ancient plains became.

Cracks and rubble crisscross the earth beneath the broken bricks, revealing the ancient sealing formation buried deep within the earth's veins. Countless array eyes are hidden beneath the thick fog, silent and without warning. Floating in the fog are the lingering whispers of the souls of those who perished in the ancient catastrophe, their fragmented murmurs lingering and constantly disturbing the mind, inducing illusions.

The thick fog obscured vision and blocked divine sense, making it a natural hiding place. Desperate rogue cultivators who failed the competition and were stranded in the secret realm, as well as the elite spies of the Wang and Hao families who deliberately separated themselves from the main force, all hid in the dark fog, specifically targeting cultivators who were distracted, alone, or unprepared to ambush them, steal their treasures, and hunt them down.

Danger lurked in layers, enveloping the entire ancient plain.

hum-

The stone patterns beneath the ground suddenly glowed with a scarlet light.

A cultivator from a collateral branch, whose mind was not stable and who was completely delirious, ran wildly and accidentally stepped directly into the hidden array eye.

A sudden burst of blade-like winds erupted from the void, the fine and sharp energy sweeping in all directions. The man didn't even have time to scream before his body was instantly torn into fine blood and foam, vanishing into the thick fog in an instant.

The blinding flash of blood disappeared in an instant, and the gruesome death still could not awaken the few cultivators who still harbored illusions and whose minds were trapped.

Lin Yan's gaze darkened slightly. The entire Laoshan group was deeply mired in their inner demons, and the morale of all the major forces was low and their vigilance was completely gone. This ancient fog trap, which no one could see through and no one could defend against, had become a veritable burial ground.

"This bewitching miasma is extremely dangerous." Lin Yan walked forward slowly, his eyes calm, having already discerned the source of the mist.

"It is the miasma of divine souls left over from the ancient imperial ruins, not the poisonous fog of the mortal world."

This mist originates from the lingering resentments and shattered Dao essence of countless beings who perished in the ancient cataclysm. After countless ages of sedimentation, it lies deep within the earth's veins of Shaohao. It does not harm the physical body or damage the meridians, but it specifically targets the soul and the sea of ​​consciousness, and is most adept at disturbing the mind and confusing the five senses. Once the mind is lost, one will fall into an endless illusion, completely lost in the ancient misty sea, and never be able to escape.

The cultivators from various factions who followed into the mist had already fallen victim to the trap and lost their composure.

The once loosely organized group descended into complete chaos. Many were dazed, their steps unsteady, their ears filled with fragmented auditory hallucinations, and their visions flashing with illusory lights and shadows. Some ran frantically, but had already lost their bearings, spinning in circles in the thick fog, unable to distinguish east from west.

In an instant, the entire ancient green plain was transformed into a natural dreamlike labyrinth.

Only Lin Yan remained unaffected by the miasma, her mind always clear.

His soul sea was imprinted with the original memories of the Eternal Imperial Ruins, so this kind of bewitching miasma was like smoke to him, unable to shake him in the slightest. The fragment of the Imperial Heart Jade Disc in his sleeve was slightly warm, emitting a faint imperial aura, which, together with the three treasures' protective shield, steadily isolated him from all the miasma and the lingering thoughts of his remnant soul.

The deeper one goes, the more sinister and chilling the atmosphere becomes.

The stone bricks beneath my feet are broken and cracked, scattered with fragments of ancient sacrificial artifacts weathered and decayed, remnants of rusted divine weapons, and countless yellowed, withered bones buried for millennia. These are all martyrs of the ancient imperial ruins calamity, still lying here silently through the ages, recounting the tragic and devastating destruction of the secret realm and the loss of countless lives.

hum-

The unremarkable mottled stone patterns on the ground gleamed slightly again. Lin Yan's steps suddenly paused, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

He clearly sensed that deep within the earth's veins beneath his feet lay countless interlocking array patterns. This mist-shrouded land was a remnant of the ancient Heaven-Sealing Array, a final, deadly formation.

Countless killing array nodes are hidden beneath broken steles, pillars, and underground stone foundations, perfectly concealed by the thick fog, showing no outward signs. Once one accidentally steps into the wrong array node, the killing power that has been dormant for millennia will instantly erupt, killing Qi Refining cultivators instantly and severely injuring Foundation Establishment cultivators as well.

Not far ahead, an impatient disciple of the Hao clan, unable to bear the slow pace, rushed ahead, breaking away from the group and attempting to get closer to the altar in the depths.

The next instant, the gray-white mist where he landed suddenly surged, and the stone patterns underground suddenly glowed crimson!

laugh--

An invisible and intangible wind of void blades suddenly erupted, densely packed like flying needles, sweeping in all directions. The Hao clan disciple was caught off guard; the spiritual energy barrier around his body shattered instantly, his clothes torn inch by inch, his flesh turned inside out, and blood instantly soaked through his robes.

He staggered backward, screaming in terror, "There's a formation! There's a hidden killing formation here!"

This exclamation instantly stunned the entire crowd. The previously restless and chaotic group fell into a deathly silence, everyone's face filled with apprehension, and no one dared to take another step forward.

The disciples of the Wang clan all composed themselves and proceeded with extreme caution. They were shrewd strategists, valued their lives, and were well aware that the ancient secret realm was fraught with danger, and that no carelessness was permissible.

Faint whispers drifted intermittently through the mist, ethereal and lingering in the ear and heart.

These are the fragmented souls and thoughts left behind by ancient fallen sacrificial guardians and ancestors. Countless broken souls are trapped in the ruins of the imperial capital, unable to escape for eternity, wandering endlessly among the killing formations and misty seas. They lack complete intelligence and cannot actively attack, but they can use the miasma to invade people's consciousness, amplifying the greed, anxiety, and fear in people's hearts, confusing their minds, and luring them into their own death.

Before long, a rogue cultivator with a weak mind was completely bewitched by the lingering thoughts of the remnant soul.

His eyes were glazed over, his pupils dilated, and his body stiff and wooden as he walked step by step toward the deepest part of the mist—the most densely packed and deadly place.

The surrounding cultivators whispered warnings, but they couldn't rouse the person from their despair.

The moment his feet stepped into the center of the formation, the underground killing array erupted once more, its chilling energy sweeping in all directions. A short, agonizing scream vanished into the mist, the wind subsided, and the sound ceased, leaving only a gruesome sight of scattered blood foam on the ground.

A deathly silence enveloped the entire venue.

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines and a cold shiver run down their spines, finally realizing the terrifying nature of this fog: a bewitching miasma that disturbs the mind, a deadly formation that threatens lives, and a soul that disturbs the heart—three layers of danger intertwined, a deadly trap at every step, and a hidden edge at every inch.

Lin Yan walked with composure, unmoved by the chaos around him.

Relying on the original memories of the Emperor's Ruins in the Soul Sea, he saw through all the hidden array eyes, and every step he took precisely avoided the vital points of the killing array. The warmth of the remnant jade of the Emperor's Heart in his sleeve flowed continuously, silently protecting everyone in Laoshan through the spiritual light shield, isolating them from the whispers of the remnant souls and the lingering power of the miasma.

His gaze pierced through the thick fog, scanning the surrounding dark void, and he understood.

The dense fog obscures vision, conceals the mind, and hides formations, making it an excellent place to conceal one's actions.

From the moment they stepped into the deep fog, he repeatedly sensed several obscure and cold divine senses, following them from a distance, appearing and disappearing intermittently, carrying with them a strong sense of probing and killing intent.

The disqualified and stranded rogue cultivators lurk in the shadows, targeting lone and distracted individuals to ambush and steal treasures; the elite disciples of the Wang and Hao families use the fog to conceal themselves and weave around the perilous path ahead, attempting to be the first to reach the ancient altar and monopolize the core opportunities of the secret realm.

Although everyone appears to be traveling together, in reality, within the foggy sea, each harbors their own ulterior motives and danger lurks everywhere.

"Do not stray from the group in the fog; stay focused and keep moving forward steadily."

Lin Yan's voice was calm and even, yet it carried a steady and resolute strength, calming the team's panicked minds.

Yunxi nodded slightly, suppressing the lingering illusion in her mind. The Water Cloud Sword shone brightly again, its cool sword intent surrounding her, clearing away the surrounding miasma and lingering thoughts, working in perfect harmony with Lin Yan to steadily guard the team's path.

Behind them, the core disciples of the Wang clan exchanged inscrutable glances, their minds heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Even though the fog sea was deadly at every turn, the strange phenomena of the jade disc in the ancient Lingquan Plain and the endless, boundless Daoist charm deep within the altar had already convinced them that a top-tier opportunity lay hidden there, and they were unwilling to back down.

The Hao clan members, having been severely injured by the killing formation, had largely calmed down their impetuousness, but their ambition remained burning brightly as they stared intently at the imperial light deep within the misty sea.

Lin Yan raised his eyes and pierced through the layers of mist, seeing the vast imperial light floating and undulating in the depths—the ancient altar was already within reach.

The fragment of the Imperial Heart Jade Disc in his sleeve trembled more and more frequently, and wisps of the Emperor's pure energy pierced through the vast sea of ​​mist, echoing and resonating with the source of the altar deep in the secret realm.

"Keep going."

As soon as he finished speaking, he stepped into the thicker fog, his back straight and composed, traversing the ancient plains fraught with hidden dangers, steadily making his way towards the ancient altar. The disciples of Laoshan followed closely behind, and the teams from various other forces also moved forward once more.

A thick, gray-white fog churned endlessly, with figures appearing and disappearing in the mist, concealing both danger and unpredictable opportunities ahead. A secret realm conflict that would engulf major sects and clans was quietly brewing beneath the fog.