At the foot of the withered mountain, the wind cut like a blade.
Supporting Cang Yaochen, Jiang Li came to a halt on the shattered stone tiles. The old man wrapped in black cloth sat at the temple entrance, cradling a rusted iron rod. He had no eyeballs; two black hollows were fixed on the Mirror of Profound Inquiry in Jiang Li's hand, and his lips twitched.
"Hold it steady. That thing is heavy," the old man rasped, his voice like sandpaper grinding against iron.
Jiang Li did not loosen her grip, the Heart-Piercing Crossbow held across her chest. "You recognize this mirror?"
"More than recognize it." The old man pushed himself up with the iron rod, his skeletal frame creaking. "Three thousand years ago, that madwoman from the Black Hero Sect brought it here, hoping to trade for a 'Heart of Longevity.' In the end, she got no heart, and her life remained here to fill a pit."
Cang Yaochen coughed twice, his dark blood dripping onto the black stone and emitting a wisp of white smoke. The War God's spine in his back was still writhing restlessly, the pain causing cold sweat to pour down his face.
"Cut the talk," Cang Yaochen stared at the old man. "How do we survive?"
The old man gave a dry, wheezing chuckle and pointed toward the peak at a bronze lamp. "That is the 'Soul-Stabilizing Lamp.' Once you enter this place, your vitality leaks out every moment. If you want to live, go sit beneath that light. But the oil for that lamp... must be lit with divine souls."
Jiang Li cocked an eyebrow. "Whose soul?"
"Whosever wants to live, pays the price," the old man spread his withered palms. "However, that mirror in your hand can take a shortcut. It can suck the souls of others and refine them into the purest lamp oil."
Jiang Li looked at the Mirror of Profound Inquiry. The red light on the glass was faint, yet it pulsed with a greedy hunger. She remembered the lapdogs of the Sacred Ground they had slaughtered along the way; after their souls were sucked in, they indeed had not dissipated.
"To the summit." Ignoring the old man's provocation, Jiang Li hoisted Cang Yaochen up and began the climb.
The stone steps were steep and high, flanked by the severed limbs and broken torsos of divine statues. With every step, the power of "Oblivion" seeped into the marrow of their bones. Cang Yaochen's breathing grew heavier, his double pupils beginning to lose focus.
"Li'er... leave me here. Take the mirror and go," Cang Yaochen gritted his teeth, his voice barely audible.
"Shut up." Jiang Li didn't look back, sweat dripping from her chin onto the stone steps. "I told you—until the debt is paid, you aren't dying."
Half an hour later, they finally dragged themselves to the summit.
The ancient bronze lamp sat upon a stone dais, its flame a ghostly green and no larger than a bean. The surrounding darkness surged like a tide, trying to swallow the lamp's shadow, only to be held back by a thin halo of light.
Jiang Li set Cang Yaochen down, leaning him against the dais. She raised the mirror toward the lamp, her palms slick with cold sweat.
"How do I light it?" she roared toward the bottom of the mountain.
The old man's voice floated up eerily: "Press the mirror against the lamp base. Think of someone in your heart, and burn their soul. The greater the Karma, the brighter the flame."
Jiang Li froze for a second.
The person in her heart was Cang Yaochen—the foolish monk who had gouged out half a heart for her. But to turn his soul into lamp oil?
"Use mine." With a fierce glint in her eyes, Jiang Li sliced her palm open, smearing her blood across the mirror's surface.
The mirror shuddered violently, letting out a shrill shriek. The remnant souls of the Sacred Ground cultivators trapped inside began to struggle frantically.
BOOM!
The flame of the bronze lamp erupted, the green light turning a ghastly crimson. This light enveloped Cang Yaochen; the War God's spine finally stilled, and his jagged wounds began to heal slowly.
But Jiang Li's face turned as white as a corpse. She felt her own soul being bitten by the mirror, a pain of being forcibly uprooted that was more agonizing than having a heart carved out.
"Is this... the price?"
Jiang Li knelt on the ground, clutching the lamp base with a death-grip.
At that moment, a vision flickered within the crimson flame: the Cloud-Ascension Throne was standing in the void outside the Forbidden Zone, holding a golden compass. The needle was spinning wildly, locked onto the black well.
He couldn't enter, but he was using an array to refine the very void itself, intending to bake the entire Forbidden Zone to death.
"Old dog..." Jiang Li gritted her teeth, the red light in her eyes growing more ferocious.
Cang Yaochen snapped his eyes open, a dark-gold glint flashing in his double pupils. He reached out to grasp Jiang Li's blood-stained hand, the Nirvana power flowing through his palm to stabilize her wavering soul.
"Since he wants to refine this place, let's send him a grand gift."
Cang Yaochen looked at the ghastly red lamp, a ruthless smile touching his lips.