The third morning inside the Demon Sealing Ruins arrived without sunlight.
There was no true sky beneath the broken valley, no dawn spreading across clouds, and no warmth to tell the living that another day had begun. There was only black mist drifting through cracked halls, old formations flickering beneath layers of dust, and the faint groan of ancient stone, as if the ruins themselves were slowly turning in their sleep.
Inside a hidden chamber, Fang Lin opened his eyes.
His breathing was calm, and his aura had steadied completely at Peak Qi Conjunction Realm. The Nine Nether Phantom Body's Nether skin Stage had reached Greater Mastery, the first layer of the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture had taken root, and his life force now flowed beneath his skin with quiet stability. His death force was still faint, but sharper than before. Alongside Frost Trace Sword Art, Flowing Wind Steps, Wind Break Palm, Phantom Transformation, the Soul Metamorphosis Technique, Frost Wind, and the small fragment of authority he held over the ruins, every method he possessed now sat within him like a blade hidden beneath cloth.
The injuries left behind by Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen had mostly healed. Some deeper damage still lingered in his meridians and soul, but it no longer affected ordinary movement.
That was enough.
Fang Lin slowly stood.
The chamber wall responded faintly to his presence and shifted open. Black mist slipped inside, cold and silent, brushing against his robes.
He stepped out.
The third day had begun.
By tonight, the Demon Sealing Ruins would eject the remaining cultivators. That meant time was running out, not only for the recruited cultivators, but for him as well.
Outside the ruins, the Core Formation elders of the three sects were still waiting. They did not yet know anything. They did not know Huo Lan, Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen were dead. They did not know Fang Lin had obtained the Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture. They did not know the ruins had recognized him.
But soon, they would realize their hidden hunters had not returned.
That alone would be enough to make the situation dangerous.
Before the ejection, Fang Lin had to prepare an escape path, a false identity, a way to hide his strength, and, if possible, enough confusion to stop the three sects from immediately locking onto him.
As he walked through the lower eastern tunnel, his presence thinned beneath Shadow Breath. His robes had changed into plain dark-grey clothing, and his face had become ordinary again, slightly tired, with dull eyes and a weak jawline.
Lin Mo.
But not exactly the same Lin Mo as before.
That identity might already carry suspicion. The three sect disciples had seen a weak Early Qi Conjunction cultivator disappear. Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi might still be alive, and if they escaped the ruins, they might mention him.
Fang Lin would not rely on that identity when leaving.
He needed another face.
Another aura.
Another story.
As he moved, his perception spread quietly through the ruins. The fragment of authority inside him gave him unclear images: scattered survivors, corpse beasts, sealed chambers, broken gates, black vines, and the underground hall where the altar had cracked.
Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi were no longer there.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed slightly.
They had left the underground hall alive.
That was not surprising. He had not killed them.
But their survival now mattered.
Qin Yuesheng knew Fang Lin had fought them. Meng Shi knew the vines had opened for him. They did not know his true identity, but they knew enough to create danger.
Fang Lin paused.
Should he kill them before the deadline?
The thought appeared naturally, cold and practical. If Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi died, fewer people would be able to speak about the underground hall. But killing them now might not be easy to hide. They were important disciples. If their corpses vanished as well, the three sects would become even more suspicious.
Besides, the surviving recruited cultivators had already seen enough to muddy the truth. Some had seen a cold sword cultivator. Some had seen a hidden expert. Some had seen the three sects massacring outsiders. Others might blame corpse beasts, dark remnants, or the dangers of the ruins themselves.
The truth would scatter.
That was useful.
Fang Lin continued forward.
He would not chase Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi unless they crossed his path. His priority was preparation.
Half an hour later, he reached a collapsed storage hall. The hall had once belonged to the ruins, but most of its shelves had rotted away, many jade boxes had cracked open long ago, and black dust covered the ground like ash. Several corpse beasts wandered inside, their hollow eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
Fang Lin stood at the entrance and raised one hand.
A faint shadow needle formed between his fingers. It was still unstable, but sharper than before.
He flicked it.
The needle vanished into the darkness.
One corpse beast stiffened. The black core inside its chest cracked silently, and it fell without a sound.
The other corpse beasts turned.
Fang Lin moved.
Frost Wind flashed three times.
Three pale icy lines cut across the hall, and the remaining corpse beasts collapsed one after another.
There was no wasted movement.
No unnecessary sound.
After confirming the hall was safe, Fang Lin searched it. Most of what remained was useless: rotten herbs, broken talismans, and cracked jade slips whose information had long since faded. But behind a fallen shelf, he found a small stone compartment.
Inside were several black beads.
Each bead carried a faint concealment aura.
Fang Lin examined them carefully. They were not attack treasures, nor were they defensive treasures. They were closer to aura-masking beads. Their power had weakened after so many years, but they could still be used once or twice.
His eyes moved slightly.
Useful.
If he combined Phantom Transformation, Shadow Breath, and one of these concealment beads, even Spirit Foundation cultivators might not see through him. Against Core Formation cultivators, it would not be enough if they inspected him directly.
But in chaos, perhaps it could help.
He stored the beads.
Continuing his search, Fang Lin found a cracked bone token. It had no spiritual power left, but a faint demonic aura still clung to it. An eye-shaped mark had been engraved into its surface, similar to the mark from the dark altar.
Fang Lin held the token.
The dark flame in his spiritual sea flickered.
The token trembled slightly.
Then a faint stream of black mist entered it.
The dead token regained a trace of activity.
Fang Lin's gaze sharpened.
Perhaps this could be used to mislead others.
He stored it separately.
After leaving the storage hall, Fang Lin began moving upward.
The ruins were changing.
He could feel it.
The closer the three-day deadline came, the more unstable the formation space became. A faint repelling force had already begun spreading through the outer and lower regions. It was still weak now, but by night, it would grow strong enough to eject every living cultivator who did not belong to the ruins.
Fang Lin did not know whether the ruins would eject him the same way.
He carried the legacy now. The vines opened for him. Some formations responded to him. But his control was too shallow, and he could not rely on being exempt.
If the ruins ejected him too, he had to be ready.
As he crossed a broken courtyard, a group of cultivators appeared ahead.
There were four recruited cultivators, all injured.
One of them recognized the ordinary face Fang Lin currently wore.
"Senior?"
Fang Lin glanced at him.
It was one of the cultivators from the herb garden.
The man immediately lowered his head. "I… I saw nothing."
The others looked confused, but after hearing his tone, they also lowered their heads quickly.
Fang Lin stopped. "Where are the sect disciples?"
The man hesitated before answering. "Some are dead. Some gathered near the outer gate region. I heard Qin Yuesheng and Meng Shi are alive, though badly injured. They are with a few remaining sect disciples."
Fang Lin's eyes moved slightly. "Did they mention Huo Lan?"
The man swallowed. "They said she died to demonic Qi contamination."
Fang Lin's expression did not change.
As expected.
A petty reason.
A convenient lie. They knew if they spread his information, he would go looking for them. They were afraid that he would just go and put an end to them.
"What about Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen?" Fang Lin asked.
The cultivator looked blank. "Who?"
Fang Lin understood.
The three hidden Spirit Foundation geniuses had acted in secret. Most recruited cultivators did not know their names. They only knew that terrifying experts had appeared and begun killing people.
"Were there three stronger cultivators killing outsiders?" Fang Lin asked.
The man's face turned pale. "Yes. One used silver sword Qi. One used flames. One used heavy earth power. But after yesterday, they disappeared."
The other cultivators trembled.
One of them whispered, "Are they dead?"
No one answered.
Fang Lin looked at them. "When the ruins eject everyone, do not stand near sect disciples."
The man's expression changed. "Senior means…"
"They will silence people if they can."
The four cultivators turned pale.
Fang Lin continued calmly, "Speak loudly before the crowd separates. Say the three sects sent hidden Spirit Foundation cultivators to kill recruited cultivators. Say you saw flames, silver sword Qi, and black mountain earth force."
The man's lips trembled. "If we say that, they will kill us."
"If you stay silent, they will kill you even quietly."
The words fell like cold water.
The four cultivators froze.
Fang Lin said, "Make noise while many people are present. The more survivors shout at once, the harder it becomes to erase everyone immediately."
The man slowly understood. Fear remained in his eyes, but beneath it, anger began to appear.
His friend had died.
His group had been hunted.
The promised reward had been a trap.
He clenched his fists.
"I understand."
Fang Lin turned away. "Live first. Speak second."
He disappeared into the mist.
The four cultivators watched him leave.
One whispered, "Who is he?"
The man from the herb garden shook his head. "I do not know."
After a moment, he added quietly, "But he is not our enemy."
Fang Lin continued upward.
Along the way, he quietly guided several groups of survivors away from obvious sect gathering points. He did not stay long with any of them. He only left short warnings.
Avoid silver marks.
Avoid flame-burned corridors.
Avoid black mountain footprints.
Gather near the outer gate before ejection.
Do not remain alone.
Shout before being separated.
The more people heard the same story, the harder it would be for the three sects to bury everything cleanly.
This was not kindness alone.
It was strategy.
Panic could become a shield. Truth, if shouted loudly enough by enough mouths, could become a weapon.
Even Core Formation elders had to care about appearances inside Rivercloud City.
At least for a moment.
And Fang Lin only needed a moment.
Near noon, Fang Lin reached a high broken platform overlooking part of the outer ruins.
From there, he saw the dark spire in the distance.
It stood at the center of the ruins, piercing upward into black mist.
The grey seed pulsed faintly.
The dark flame also stirred.
Fang Lin looked at the spire for a long time.
He could feel it.
The true core of the Demon Sealing Ruins was there.
The treasure cage.
The deeper authority.
Perhaps the place from which the entire ruin could be controlled.
But he could not go there now.
His strength was too weak.
Even after killing three Spirit Foundation geniuses, Fang Lin understood this clearly. The ruins had only allowed him to touch the edge of their power.
Only the edge.
If he tried to seize the core now, he would most likely die.
Or worse, become trapped.
Fang Lin slowly withdrew his gaze.
"One day."
His voice was quiet.
"One day, I will return."
The black spire stood silently.
No answer came.
But the dark flame in his spiritual sea burned steadily.
As afternoon passed, the repelling force inside the ruins became clearer. Some weaker cultivators began feeling dizzy, their bodies flickering faintly as if the space around them was loosening.
The deadline was approaching.
Fang Lin found one final hiding place near the outer region. There, he began preparing his exit.
He opened the storage rings again.
From Lu Han, he took a spare white robe and cut away the River Sword Sect markings. From Yan Chi, he took ash powder used to disguise burn injuries. From Guo Zhen, he took a body-tempering paste that carried a heavy earth aura.
Then he combined them with Phantom Transformation.
His face changed.
He became older and rougher. A scar appeared across his cheek. His skin darkened slightly, and his shoulders became broader, but his posture turned tired and worn.
His aura dropped to Middle Qi Conjunction Realm.
Not too weak.
Not too strong.
A wounded wandering cultivator who had survived by luck.
Fang Lin crushed one concealment bead. A faint dull aura wrapped around him, and Shadow Breath sank beneath it. His frost aura vanished. His darkness aura vanished. His life force hid deep beneath the Nine Nether Phantom Body.
Frost Wind was stored away.
At his waist, he placed a damaged ordinary blade taken from a dead cultivator.
He looked nothing like Fang Lin.
Nothing like Lin Mo.
Nothing like the cold sword cultivator from the underground hall.
Fang Lin examined himself through a polished metal fragment, then nodded slightly.
Good enough.
As evening approached, the ruins began to tremble.
A low sound spread through every passage and courtyard. Black mist rose, and formation lines lit up across the ancient ground.
Survivors looked around in fear.
Some shouted.
Some cried.
Some laughed in relief.
The three days were ending.
They were finally going to leave.
Fang Lin stood among a small group of injured wandering cultivators near the outer gate region. No one recognized him. His head was lowered, his aura was ordinary, and his entire body seemed to carry only exhaustion and fear.
But beneath the disguise, his eyes remained calm.
Far ahead, he saw Qin Yuesheng.
This River Sword Sect disciple was pale, and one of his arms hung uselessly at his side while several disciples supported him. Nearby stood Meng Shi, his body wrapped in bandages and his expression heavy.
Huo Lan was absent.
Lu Han, Yan Chi, and Guo Zhen would never re-appear.
Qin Yuesheng suddenly looked around.
His brows furrowed.
Perhaps he sensed something.
Perhaps fear had simply made him suspicious.
His gaze passed over Fang Lin.
It stopped for half a breath.
Then moved away.
Fang Lin remained dull-eyed and tired.
No reaction.
No killing intent.
No aura.
The repelling force grew stronger.
Someone shouted, "It is starting!"
White-black light rose from the ground.
One cultivator vanished.
Then another.
Then dozens.
Fang Lin felt the force wrap around him. The ruins were ejecting him too.
For a moment, the dark flame in his spiritual sea flickered, and the grey seed pulsed. The ruins seemed reluctant.
But Fang Lin did not resist.
Not now.
He allowed the force to take him.
The world blurred.
Just before his vision vanished, Fang Lin looked once more toward the dark spire.
The spire stood silently in the black mist.
Waiting.
Then the ruins disappeared.
Light returned.
Noise exploded around him.
The survivors of the Demon Sealing Ruins were ejected back outside.
And beyond the broken valley, the Core Formation elders of the three sects were already waiting.
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