I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

The demonic armor transformed into a beam of azure light in his palm and disappeared into the depths of his Qiankun bag. Li Hanshan raised his eyes, gazing at the winding ancient bluestone path, his heart still resonating with the excitement he felt while refining the demonic armor. The Daoist essence contained within the demonic armor was somewhat similar to that of the Xuantian Sect, but it was far more rugged and savage, as if it were a relic from some ancient era, found by the Yaoguang Sect from who-knows-where and placed here.

"Let's go," he said softly.

Xiao An peeked half her head out from his sleeve, her small eyes darting around. As if sensing a deep, stagnant atmosphere ahead, she didn't say anything, but quietly shrank back inside.

The ancient path winds through the mountains and forests, flanked by towering ancient trees whose intertwined branches block out most of the sunlight. Only a few rays of sunlight occasionally pierce through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled spots of light on the ground. The air is filled with an old, almost decaying scent, as if dust that has slumbered for countless years has been awakened by their footsteps and swirls in the dim light.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, the terrain suddenly rose. Li Hanshan paused.

The forest ahead suddenly opened up, as if an invisible hand had ripped a gash in it, revealing a gray-black mountain range. The mountain wasn't high, but it was extremely steep, and from its base to its summit, it was densely packed with layers upon layers of vegetation—

grave.

Li Hanshan's pupils contracted slightly.

The sight was so overwhelming that he was momentarily speechless. The mountain before him was less a mountain and more a colossal burial mound made of graves. Thousands upon thousands of tombstones stretched upwards from the foot of the mountain, arranged neatly like chess pieces on a board, yet exuding a suffocating solemnity and desolation. Each tombstone was made of the same bluish-gray stone, similar in size, and engraved with a name, the handwriting different, yet all conveying a seriousness bordering on piety.

The wind swept through the mountains, passing countless tombstones, emitting a low, mournful sound, like the sighs of countless departed souls.

Li Hanshan stood at the end of the ancient road, gazing at the burial mound, motionless for a long time.

"Disciples of the Yaoguang Sect..." he murmured to himself, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness that even he himself was unaware of.

He walked forward step by step, stopping at the foot of the mountain, his gaze sweeping over the nearest row of tombstones. Most of the names were unfamiliar; occasionally, a few seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't recall where he had seen them before. Besides the names, the tombstones bore nothing else—no dates of birth or death, no inscriptions of achievements, not even a simple eulogy.

It's as if these names themselves are everything.

Li Hanshan raised his head and looked up along the hillside. The higher he went, the wider the gaps between the tombstones became, and the stones seemed to be more refined. The bottom rows of tombstones were almost shoulder to shoulder, so crowded that there was no room for anything else, but as he went up the hillside, they began to thin out, with each tombstone occupying a more open space.

He understood. There were rules governing these burial mounds. The higher one's cultivation and the greater one's status, the higher one was buried.

So...

Li Hanshan's heart suddenly jumped.

Luo Li.

The name struck him like a red-hot iron, slamming into his heart. He instinctively clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Luo Li was a disciple of the Yao Guang Sect, exceptionally talented, her cultivation already at the Refinement of Emptiness stage. If the Yao Guang Sect had truly suffered some catastrophic calamity, would she… would she also be on this mountain?

He was almost about to rush uphill, but stopped abruptly at the first step. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging emotions in his heart, and his gaze became serious as he scanned the entire cemetery.

There was a protective barrier on the mountain. He could sense that the entire mountain was shrouded in a very faint and subtle spiritual energy fluctuation, like a spider web densely covering every inch of land. The barrier was not violent; in fact, it could be described as gentle, yet it was extremely ingenious. If his divine soul had not far surpassed that of others of the same level, he would have almost completely ignored it.

"It's a protective barrier," Li Hanshan said in a low voice, "preventing outsiders from setting foot here."

Fortunately, the restrictions here were no problem for Li Hanshan either. Soon, Li Hanshan broke through a gap and slipped inside.

The moment he stepped into the cemetery, the somber and desolate atmosphere intensified several times over. Li Hanshan could even feel the faint chill emanating from the soil beneath his feet, a chill that penetrated to his very bones, as if every inch of the land was soaked in blood and resentment.

He began to walk up the hillside, his eyes carefully scanning the names on each tombstone.

"Liu Qing... Zhao Wuwang... Zhou Jing..." he murmured to himself as he walked, his steps unwavering, his heart pounding faster and faster. Each tombstone felt like a needle pricking his nerves. He was afraid that if he looked up, he would see that familiar name on one of the tombstones.

The tombstones halfway up the mountain were noticeably more exquisite than those at the foot of the mountain. Some faint traces of spiritual energy even began to appear on the tombstones, indicating that the deceased had at least a Nascent Soul cultivation level during their lifetime. Li Hanshan quickened his pace, his gaze sharp as he scanned the tombstones row by row.

No.

There is no Luo Li.

His breathing eased slightly, but he dared not completely relax. The higher he went, the fewer tombstones there were, each one occupying a large area, and the inscriptions on the tombstones became increasingly vigorous and powerful, faintly revealing a Taoist charm.

"Nascent Soul... Void Refinement..." Li Hanshan looked at the names, silently calculating the corresponding realms in his mind. When he reached the area near the top of the mountain, only a dozen or so tombstones remained, each standing like a small mountain, its imposing aura so heavy that it was impossible to look directly at them.

Luo Li is at the Refinement stage. If she truly perished, she should be in this area.

Li Hanshan held his breath and looked at each piece one by one.

"Situ Kong... Baili Shuang... Liu Ruyan..."

No.

He searched almost inch by inch, even carefully examining the back of the tombstone, but still couldn't find the name.

However, this is not a sure thing, because when Ya Tou met Li Hanshan in the dream, she was at the Refinement stage, but when the Yao Guang Sect was destroyed, she may have already reached the Integration stage.

So Li Hanshan continued upwards.

There aren't many tombstones there, only about a dozen.

"More than a dozen Dao-merging cultivators."

The strength of the Yaoguang Sect is truly terrifying; the sect alone has more than a dozen Dao Integration Realm cultivators. Li Hanshan didn't recognize any of the names listed.

However, the fact that even He Dao died in battle is enough to demonstrate the ferocity of that battle.

"No girl!" He finally breathed a sigh of relief after reading the last tombstone of the Dao Integration level, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

She's not here. She's not dead.

This realization was like a ray of light, shining into his heart, which had almost frozen in place. He stood on the mountainside, looking up at the summit. There stood a solitary tombstone, taller and heavier than all the others, perched atop the highest point of the cemetery, like a silent king, overlooking the countless souls below.

A thought struck Li Hanshan, and he stepped forward to walk up.

The tombstone was entirely black, its stone unlike any other at the foot of the mountain, smooth as a mirror, yet exuding an overwhelming sense of oppression. There were no superfluous decorations on the tombstone, only a single line of text, deeply engraved into the stone, each stroke as if carved with a sword, sharp and resolute.

"The Tomb of Lu Zhantian, the Seventh Generation Leader of the Yaoguang Sect".

Li Hanshan suddenly stopped.

He stared at the words, his mind momentarily blank. Lu Zhantian. Sect Leader of the Yaoguang Sect. He had seen this name in the sect's ancient texts and had also heard Luo Li mention it. He was Luo Li's master, a Mahayana cultivator who was renowned throughout the world eight thousand years ago. His Yaoguang Sword Technique had once overwhelmed his contemporaries and was hailed as a monument to the human race's swordsmanship.

Mahayana practitioners.

He died in battle.

Li Hanshan felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, making the hairs on his body stand on end. What was the concept of a Mahayana cultivator? They were beings on the verge of touching the path of immortality, top-tier experts who could be ranked among the best in the entire human cultivation world. Such a person, actually dead? And judging from the scale of this cemetery, it was clear that the entire Yaoguang Sect, including the sect leader, had been almost wiped out.

"What kind of enemy are they facing?" Li Hanshan murmured, his voice somewhat dry.

He thought of the cultivator's remains he had seen outside, the suppressed demonic armor, and the ruins of the shattered mountain gate. The destruction of the Yao Guang Sect seemed far more devastating than he had imagined. How powerful must the enemy have been to end up like this, a super sect with a Mahayana cultivator at its helm?

He stood silently before Lu Zhantian's grave, motionless for a long time. The mountain wind blew through his robes, making them flutter.

Fortunately, Luo Li wasn't there.

This thought was like a lifeline, barely managing to steady his mind. He glanced at Lu Zhantian's tombstone again, and a guess suddenly popped into his head—this site, with its various arrangements, restrictions, and remaining opportunities, didn't seem like it was left hastily. It seemed more like it was intentionally created, as if waiting for something.

And given that almost everyone in the Yaoguang Sect is dead, it seems that only the person who isn't in the grave could have accomplished all of this.

Luo Li.

"These ruins... could they really be her work?" Li Hanshan frowned, his mind filled with doubts. If they were truly left behind by Luo Li, why would she set up so many tests?

He couldn't figure it out.

That's enough. Since he couldn't figure it out, he stopped thinking about it. He solemnly bowed to Lu Zhantian's tombstone, as a sign of respect for this senior, and then turned to prepare to descend the mountain.

Just as he turned around—

"Be careful!"

Xiao An's voice suddenly exploded in his mind, sharp as a cat whose tail had been stepped on. At the same time, an extremely cold aura erupted from behind him without warning, carrying a chilling killing intent, heading straight for his back!

The speed was unbelievable. Li Hanshan didn't even have time to turn around, he only managed to shift his body slightly—with a tearing sound, the sleeve of his left arm was ripped open, and a black energy grazed his skin, leaving a trail of blood droplets. The blood droplets exploded in the air, instantly turning into black mist and disappearing without a trace.

Li Hanshan's expression changed drastically. Almost simultaneously, his flying sword was drawn, its light flashing backward as it slashed behind him.

But the dark figure, like a ghost, glided past the sword, emitting a sickening hissing laugh.

"Someone... actually managed to get this far..." A hoarse, broken voice came from the shadows, like countless shattered throats speaking simultaneously, "Good... good..."

Li Hanshan quickly retreated, creating distance, and only then could he clearly see the appearance of the dark figure.

It was a humanoid black mist, without a fixed outline, constantly twisting and deforming, its interior shimmering with specks of scarlet light, like countless half-open, half-closed eyes. It hovered above Lu Zhantian's tombstone, slowly writhing, emanating a chilling aura.

Li Hanshan found that aura somewhat familiar.

Back then, deep within the ancient sword ruins, when he faced that evil thought from beyond the heavens, he had a similar feeling—deep, chaotic, and greedy, as if it were malice from another world, wanting to devour all living beings for no reason.

Li Hanshan gripped his flying sword tightly, alarm bells ringing in his mind.

"An extraterrestrial demon?"