I am the sacred tree, evergreen for eternity.

Before dawn, a thick fog hung like a curtain.

In the grand square of the western tribe, hundreds of totem walkers stood in formation like iron, their killing intent palpable.

They were elite warriors gathered from the three major tribes, each of whom was at least at the level of perfect physical cultivation and bloodline breakthrough.

There were a total of sixty experts at the Bright Spirit Heavenly Light stage.

This was the most powerful expedition in the nearly 100-year history of the Xia clan.

Xuan stood at the very front of the group, carrying an iron axe on his back, his eyes piercing.

"By the Tree God."

"Let's march!"

Hundreds of totem walkers pounded their chests in unison, producing a dull, thunderous sound.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the tree's branches, as if responding to something, or perhaps simply being shaken by the morning wind.

Xuan, Meng, and Feng each led their respective tribes, transforming into three arrows released from a bow, and charged into the morning mist.

The three armies, separated by dozens of miles, maintained contact using an agreed-upon signal.

As the expeditionary force ventured deeper into the region, the miasma grew increasingly dense.

Suddenly.

Xuan raised his right arm, and the Eastern Tribe's group stopped in unison.

He squatted down and rubbed the soil on the ground with his fingers.

Moist, soft, and with a sweet, fishy smell.

is blood!

Fresh, not yet fully coagulated human blood.

Something's up!

"All alert!"

Xuan shouted, his eyes sparkling with spiritual light as he pierced through the thick fog and surveyed the surrounding dense forest.

The dense forest, which had been rustling just moments before, suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

There were no birdsong, no insect chirping, and even the wind had stopped.

Xuan gripped the iron axe tightly, spiritual light surging around him, emitting waves of scorching heat.

Just then—

"call out!"

A sharp whistling sound came from the south, piercing the deathly silence.

A distress signal arrow?!

Xuan suddenly turned his head and looked south.

The arrow left a crimson trail, which stood out starkly against the gray sky.

He didn't have time to react.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Strange activity was also reported from the north.

The two signal arrows rose into the air almost simultaneously, exploding one after the other in the sky, bursting into two dazzling bursts of light and flame.

Xuan's face darkened completely.

The three expeditionary forces encountered unexpected events simultaneously.

Clearly, their movements have been discovered by the demon race.

This was a premeditated, meticulously planned ambush.

"Shrink the formation!"

"Defend in place!"

Xuan's voice was low and urgent.

Two hundred totem walkers quickly gathered together, forming a circular formation back to back.

Archers nocked their arrows, swordsmen raised their shields to protect their flanks, and spearmen pointed their spears outwards, forming a dense, impenetrable formation.

Deep in the dense forest, amidst the thick fog, came a rustling sound.

The sound grew closer and more intense, surging in from all directions.

Immediately afterwards, dozens of pairs of eerie green vertical pupils emerged from the thick fog.

Like will-o'-the-wisps floating in the darkness, they illuminated the entire dense forest in a sinister and terrifying way.

A fox spirit.

A large group of fox spirits emerged from the mist, their bodies covered in silver-white or reddish-brown fur, with one or two tails trailing behind them.

Their eyes held no trace of the ignorance of wild beasts, but only a cunning and malicious scrutiny.

In the thickest part of the fog, a figure slowly emerged.

With its four legs on the ground, its silvery-white fur gleamed with a cold luster, and its three tails spread out behind it like feather fans.

It was a three-tailed fox spirit far larger than its kind, almost as tall as a person at the shoulder, with long and powerful limbs, its claws hidden in the decaying leaves.

On its raised head, a human-like expression appeared on its long, narrow fox face—

Jest.

That kind of playful teasing, like a cat playing with a mouse.

It looked at Xuan as if he were a prey cornered in a desperate situation.

"I said—"

"We'll meet again, won't we?"

……

The central altar of the western tribes.

Liang stood alone before the branch of the tree god, his light brown pupils reflecting the emerald green leaves.

He dismissed all the clansmen guarding the altar.

The area around the altar was empty, with only the sound of the wind whistling through the stone pillars.

Liang's face appeared exceptionally pale in the wind, and the scar on his face, corroded by the venom of the demon spider, gleamed with a dark bluish-purple light under the illumination of the spiritual light.

His breathing was somewhat rapid, and he felt a dull pain in his chest.

The stagnant energy that had accumulated in my body for decades began to surge again.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the metallic taste, and glanced into the dark corner.

"Come out."

The shadows swallowed the already low voice, and a figure emerged from the darkness.

The same silvery-white fur, the same eerie three tails...

It's another three-tailed fox demon.

But its pupils were purplish-black, as deep and dark as two dry wells.

"You've arrived."

Liang's voice was low and cold, as if he was suppressing something.

The fox tilted its head, its purplish-black vertical pupils narrowed slightly, and its gleaming white fangs protruded from the corners of its mouth.

"It's time to keep our promise."

Its voice sounded much like the one from the dense forest, and while it was androgynous, it had an added chilling, sticky quality.

Liang did not respond.

He stared at the fox demon, his gaze sharp as a knife, and his voice suddenly rose.

"Those seven scouts—did you kill them?!"

The purplish-black vertical pupil flickered.

The fox demon neither dodged nor denied it.

It just tilted its head, its fox face contorted with an almost innocent expression.

"Sacrifice is necessary to accomplish great things."

"Otherwise, why would the three major tribes be so angry as to send troops?"

"How did you manage to... stay here alone?"

Bright eyes were bloodshot, the tip of the knife pointed directly at the fox demon's throat, and a spiritual light flickered on the blade.

"As agreed—you cannot harm the people of the western border!"

"They are your people, not ours."

The fox spirit looked at Liang calmly, its purplish-black pupils devoid of any emotion.

Liang stared intently at it, forcing out three words through clenched teeth:

"Where are the things?"

The fox spirit laughed.

The smile that appeared on that fox-like face was chilling.

It opened its mouth, and a purplish-black heart, still beating slightly, slowly emerged from deep within its throat.

The heart was the size of a fist, its surface covered with a spiderweb of veins, and with each beat it sent out a ripple of turbid air.

The Heart of the Demon King—the source of turbid energy formed from the life essence of a great demon in the Seeking Dharma stage after its death.

The fox spirit used turbid air to support the heart and slowly presented it to Liang.

"As long as it is buried in the root system of the tree spirit's branch, the turbid energy will seep into the earth's veins."

"At that time, the spiritual light of the branches will be assimilated by the turbid air."

"And every member of the tribe in the western border can transform the turbid air into their own use by worshipping the branch."

"Miasma will no longer erode you, and toxins will no longer torment you."

"Your lifespan will return to normal, and your strength may even improve further."

The fox spirit's voice was as sweet as honey, yet as deadly as poison.

Liang remained silent and struggled.

He looked at the demon king's heart floating in front of him, and at the filthy patterns on it.

Countless images flashed through my mind—

Those mornings when they knelt at the feet of the tree god, listening to their father Yan impart the knowledge of writing.

The faces of those tribesmen who fell in the miasma of the western frontier.

Those figures huddled together for warmth in the guard camp...

Bright's jaw clenched, and he trembled as he reached out a finger to touch the heart.

A cold, slippery sensation came from his palm, and a chilling, turbid air instantly seeped into his body.

But he did not let go.

The fox demon's grin widened even further.

"As expected, you humans always make the right choices."

Liang turned around and walked towards the branch of the tree spirit.

The emerald green leaves swayed gently in the breeze, their radiance as warm and gentle as jade, flowing quietly.

Compared to the corrupt heart of the demon king, that light was as pure as that of a newborn baby.

Liang looked up at the totem he had believed in all his life.

Tree God.

Since their father's generation, the western tribes have been rooted in this branch.

It sheltered them, nourished them, and created a haven for them amidst miasma and poison.

And now, he actually has to...

"By the Tree God."

"All sins have been committed against me."

Liang took a deep breath and raised his iron sword high—

The next moment, a hoarse, weathered voice suddenly rang out:

"Stop, child."

Don't make the same mistake again.