A radiant, holy light of purification pierced the darkness, flooding the cave with brilliance.


    Fierce yin spirits and vengeful ghosts shrieked as they charged, brimming with malice. Yet, as the light washed over them, their rage melted away, replaced by a serene calm. One by one, Han purified and released them, their essences dissolving into the heavens and returning to the netherworld.


    They came with fury, they left in peace.


    Each left behind a bead of pure soul energy—a token of gratitude for Han’s deliverance.


    Han didn’t lift a finger. Standing still, he chanted divine incantations and subtly wielded his artifact, effortlessly dispelling the relentless tide of ghosts.


    For someone wielding the Three Radiance Blessed Mirror and versed in the Purify Heaven and Earth Incantation, these low-tier spectral threats were child’s play. Other cultivators might fear being overwhelmed—ants toppling an elephant through sheer numbers, draining them to death. But for Han? No chance.


    The soul energy they left behind was a perfect snack for his spirit.


    No matter how many came, it was futile.


    Of course, that hinged on these ghosts being far weaker than him. If countless spirits matched his strength, that’d be a nightmare. But in the Sun-Moon Stone Forest? Not a ghost here came close. Most were Visualization or Out-of-Body tier—Night Roamers were rare, and a whiff of Day Roamer yang energy would undo them.


    This horde storming from every cave might look impressive, but they were just delivering themselves on a platter.


    Yun Yuannan had picked the right guy for the job.


    Yun Duo focused on refining the Mountain-Bearing Stone, trusting Han completely.


    Yun Yun had already collected all the Mountain Force Liquid. She’d planned to pitch in against the ghost swarm, but watching Han at work, she stayed silent.


    This treasure hunt… was almost too easy.


    The caves teemed with ghosts—enough to give Yun Yun a decent workout if she’d handled them. Dual cultivator or not, her Night Roamer soul would’ve needed time and effort to clear them out, nowhere near Han’s efficiency.


    Han made it look effortless.


    Good thing we brought him, Yun Yun thought.


    Outside, the ghosts’ uproar sent wisps of yin energy spiraling from every cave mouth, sharp wails echoing faintly.


    The commotion drew eyes.


    “What’s going on?”


    “Are the cave ghosts rioting?”


    “Is a treasure awakening?!”


    “Could a ghost king be rising?”


    “Should we check it out?”


    “If it’s a ghost king, we’re all dead—better ditch the Stone Forest!”


    The sudden chaos spooked the cautious, who fled, fearing disaster or death. But it also lured the curious, the bold, and the greedy into the caves, chasing the unknown.


    Following the ghosts’ trail, they edged closer to the Mountain-Bearing Stone’s nook.


    Among them were the four from earlier, tasked with gathering stone-eater stomachs.


    The scarred man spoke as they ventured deeper. “What’s this? Never heard of the Stone Forest acting up like this.”


    “Nothing in the sect’s records mentions ghost riots,” Brother Xuan replied, his mental energy probing the surroundings. “Let’s see what’s up—might be something worth grabbing.”


    Anything out of the ordinary had a reason. For cultivators, that meant opportunity—profit lurking in the strange.


    As more intruders poured in, Han sensed them near the puddle.


    “People are coming,” he said. “Three at Viscera Realm.”


    “Why would Viscera martial artists be here?” Yun Yun tensed, glancing at Yun Duo—still refining, needing more time.


    “We need to stall them.”


    “Ignore the Flesh and Sinew scrubs…”


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Han’s mental energy surged, roaring through the tunnels and slamming into the encroaching cultivators. An overwhelming pressure—an unstoppable force—sent them flying.


    “Leave this place.”


    A voice, flat and commanding, boomed through the caves.


    The repelled cultivators reeled in terror. Attacked without seeing a soul or ghost?


    Seasoned ones caught on fast: a master cultivator lurked within, freakishly strong. To hit them unseen, unhindered by their vitality, it had to be at least Day Roamer!


    “Forgive us, Senior! We’re leaving now!” one stammered, drenched in cold sweat, bowing before bolting.


    Less savvy ones, clueless to the implications, tried again—only to be flung back. Now they got it: a powerhouse they couldn’t cross dwelled inside. Not a ghost king, but a high cultivator.


    The Flesh Realm small fry scattered, no longer daring to poke around.


    For the four with purple flame emblems, Han held off attacking, issuing a warning instead. “Get out. Don’t come closer.”


    They froze, hearts pounding, turning to their lone cultivator.


    “Day Roamer,” Brother Xuan muttered, face grim, recognizing the power instantly.


    That flood of soul energy, laced with unmistakable yang, screamed it.


    The three Viscera martial artists paled.


    A Day Roamer was elder-tier in their sect. Sure, they’d lose a straight brawl with a Bone Refinement fighter, but in a sect, their status rivaled or even topped them. Cultivators weren’t just fighters—they crafted artifacts, pills, talismans. Their utility set them apart. A single cultivation-boosting pill or strength-enhancing talisman? Priceless. Most martial artists only punched; cultivators did more.


    “Brother Xuan, what now?” the squinting man asked via mind-link.


    Brother Xuan’s expression flickered. “Looks like no ghost king. If a treasure’s here, that Day Roamer’s probably got it already.”


    “Damn it, a treasure worth a Day Roamer’s time? Must be insane!”


    All four seethed with envy and regret. If only they’d found it first!


    Another martial artist chimed in, “If he’s got it, why not leave? Why shoo us away? He could slip out, and no one’d be the wiser.”


    Brother Xuan’s eyes sparked. “Unless he’s in trouble. Maybe he caused this ghost riot?”


    A weakened master, cornered and bluffing to scare off intruders—it wasn’t unheard of.


    The others’ pulses raced. A compromised Day Roamer? Too tempting. His loot could make them rich beyond dreams.


    “No clue what’s up—soul alone or body too?” Brother Xuan shouted, “We’re from Tianyang’s Purple Flame Sect! Which Senior graces us? If you need aid, just say it—we’ll do our utmost!”


    Purple Flame Sect? Han knew of them—on par with Tianyue’s top dog, the Yuan family. Their signature Purple Flame technique was famous nearby, though risky to practice—one slip, and you’re toast.


    “Get out,” Han replied.


    “As you command, Senior.” Brother Xuan shot his crew a look, and they retreated.


    Far off, they huddled, mind-linking.


    “Brother Xuan, what’s the play?”


    “I’ve got a treasure from my master,” he said.


    The others straightened—his master was no small fry.


    “Meant to save my skin, but if that Day Roamer’s really hurting, this could cripple him further.”


    “Then let’s storm in!” the squinting man urged, hyped.


    “Hold up—caution first,” Brother Xuan cautioned. “He’s still a Day Roamer, and him being weak is just our hunch. I’ll test him.”


    He brushed a pouch at his waist. A purple, thumb-thick snake slithered out. After a brief exchange, it hissed, spewing purple mist that morphed into another snake, darting into the cave.


    “That’s your Purple Mist Flame Snake?”


    “Yep, my master’s gift,” Brother Xuan nodded. “Helps me cultivate Purple Flame. Stealthy, fast as lightning, and its mist tricks are tough for most Day Roamers to spot.”


    The others gawked, jealous. In a cultivator-heavy sect like Purple Flame, where the namesake technique reigned supreme, a pet boosting that practice was gold—its other perks just icing on the cake.


    At the puddle, Han frowned, instantly clocking the intruder—not a real creature.


    Ordinary Day Roamers might miss it, but Han wasn’t ordinary.


    He sighed. “Just wanted to grab the treasure and go, but some folks insist on digging their own graves.”


    A fake snake meant a trick—and Han knew who sent it.


    Killing intent flared.


    He’d been lenient, only shooing them off, no harm meant. But if these four wanted to play dirty, they’d brought it on themselves. With moves like that, did they think he’d assume good intentions?


    “Yun Yun…”


    He briefed her, and she slipped out through a tunnel.


    Han let his soul drift free, masking it to seem frail, dialing back the purification light. Ghosts flooded in, swarming him—a staged “devoured by spirits” scene.


    Here’s the answer you want.


    Outside, the real snake hissed frantically. Brother Xuan nodded, glee creeping onto his face.


    A weakened cultivator, endless ghosts, a kid refining treasure—too perfect!


    “He’s in bad shape,” Brother Xuan said gravely. “Two options: go for it or bail?”


    “Go for it, we risk him taking one—or all—of us down.”


    “Bail, we walk away clean.”


    He was lucid. Murder and looting sounded sweet, but he knew the stakes.


    The others locked eyes. The scarred man decided, “We go for it! This might be our one shot!”


    A crippled Bone Refinement fighter could still crush them if he twitched. But a cultivator? Different story. Brother Xuan’s treasure could soften him up, then three Viscera fighters could swarm—good odds.


    “Alright, if we’re in, focus up—bring everything you’ve got.”


    They marched back in, hearts pounding with excitement, greed, and fear. They knew failure’s price, knew the cultivator would fight back, knew the danger.


    Yet they chose the gamble.


    Purple Flame Sect bred risk-takers—danger was in their blood, woven into their nature from day one. This haul was worth it.


    Han shook his head. “Heaven’s door was open, but you picked hell’s gate.”


    Yun Yun returned. Han threw up a barrier, cloaking their spot from the Purple Flame crew’s senses.


    “They’re coming,” he said. “Bad vibes.”


    “Three Viscera, one Night Roamer,” Yun Yun said, fists clenched. “What’s the plan?”


    Han smirked, unbothered. “No sweat—they won’t touch Yun Duo.”


    To him, the four were ants. He kept purifying the rushing ghosts, calm as ever.


    Say what you will, this forest’s caves were crawling with yin spirits.


    The Purple Flame quartet crept close to the puddle, spotting Han’s group. Seeing Yun Yun—an extra—they blanched.


    “Sh—!”


    Han glanced over. Their words died unspoken—forever.


    Whoosh!


    Tricolored yin fire erupted around them, swallowing sound and life. The Viscera martial artists’ robust vitality burned to ash, their bodies freezing solid from the inside out. The Night Roamer’s soul incinerated to dust in an instant.


    No resistance. Just four ice statues remained.


    Adventure? That’s for real possibilities—this was suicide.


    Opportunity? They lost it the second they chose this path.


    “Yun Sect Master, cleanup’s done.”