The four disciples from the Golden Dragon Martial Hall lay stacked in a corner, their low groans echoing faintly through the cavern.


    Senior Brother Zhang clung to the last thread of life, teetering on the brink of death. No one bothered to finish him off—he wouldn’t last much longer anyway. That fragile glimmer of survival came from his perfectly refined organs, a testament to his mastery of the Visceral Realm. Yet, even that wasn’t enough to make him immortal.


    The tall young man, his legs shattered and abdomen pierced, leaned against the earthen wall, eyes closed in silent resignation.


    Senior Sister Li, pale as a ghost, clutched her neck where Bai Ruoyue’s strike had nearly taken her head clean off moments earlier.


    Jin Shui pressed a hand to his chest, coughing up blood nonstop. Han’s attack had ravaged his internal organs, leaving him in agony.


    “Han, spare us,” Jin Shui pleaded, blood frothing at his lips. “We’re disciples of the Golden Dragon Martial Hall. My master is the hall’s leader. If you kill us, they won’t let it slide.”


    “Let us go this time, and I swear we won’t come after you once we’re out of here.”


    Han looked at Jin Shui and let out a soft, mocking chuckle.


    “I thought your arrogance was carved into your bones—something genuine, a real disdain for me deep in your soul,” Han said. “If that were the case, I might’ve actually respected you a little.”


    If Jin Shui had held onto his pride even now, spitting defiance in Han’s face despite his dire straits, Han might’ve spared him a shred of admiration. But no—beneath the bluster, he was just a coward, a fool coasting on the prestige of his background, nothing more.


    Jin Shui’s face twisted as he begged harder. “I was blind before, Han. Please, let me go. I swear I won’t retaliate. If I see you again, I’ll steer clear—I promise!”


    Han ignored the groveling and picked up the stone he’d pried from the giant serpent’s skull. Holding it up, he asked, “Do you know what this is?”


    He hadn’t missed the glint of greed in Jin Shui’s eyes when they’d first crossed paths. The man had clearly been after this moonlight-hued stone.


    Jin Shui hesitated. Without a second thought, Han swung his sword, driving it through the man’s palm.


    “Ahh!” Jin Shui screamed, but Han’s expression didn’t flicker. No amount of wailing could sway him. Pity now would only invite betrayal later—Han knew that all too well.


    “I don’t know!” Jin Shui blurted out instantly. “But I’ve got one just like it!”


    “Where’d you get it?” Han pressed.


    “If I tell you everything, will you let me live?”


    Whoosh! Another sword strike, this time skewering Jin Shui’s other hand.


    “You think you’re in a position to bargain with me?” Han’s voice was ice.


    Bai Ruoyue stood silently to the side, keeping watch over the other two survivors. She let Han handle Jin Shui without interference. In her eyes, his ruthlessness was flawless—hesitation here would’ve disappointed her. If Han had shown mercy, she’d have dragged him back for a stern lesson.


    “No more! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” Jin Shui caved, a far cry from his usual swagger. “I found it the first time I came down into these caverns. I don’t know what it is, but it drives the wild beasts crazy. They go berserk when they see it—it’s gotta be some kind of treasure. That’s all I know, I swear!”


    The beasts go mad for it… Han mulled that over.


    “What else have you found down here?” he asked.


    “Nothing! Once the mist cleared, we ventured deeper. All we saw were beasts and their dens.”


    Han nodded, lost in thought. This cavern was massive—what could lie at its deepest point?


    Seeing Han fall silent, Jin Shui seized the chance to beg again. “Han, I was wrong. I know I messed up—please!”


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    Han shook his head. “No, you just know you’re about to die.”


    With a single thrust, his sword pierced Jin Shui’s heart. The man’s robust vitality kept him twitching for a few moments, but it was futile. “Han, the Golden Dragon Martial Hall won’t let you off! My master will avenge me!” Jin Shui spat with his dying breath, eyes blazing with resentment as he slumped lifelessly.


    “You won’t be around to see that day,” Han replied coolly, turning to the remaining two.


    “Do it,” he said.


    The tall youth, eyes still shut, trembled but didn’t beg. Compared to Jin Shui, his quiet resolve was leagues ahead. Han sighed inwardly—if Jin Shui had listened to this guy’s warnings from the start, none of this would’ve happened. Fate was a cruel thing.


    Han ended him quickly, granting the most dignified death he could. Letting him go wasn’t an option—sure, he’d tried to rein Jin Shui in at first, but he’d still fought Han later. Once you raised a hand against him, you were an enemy. Mercy didn’t factor in.


    Senior Sister Li, though, was a different story. Terror consumed her as she shrieked, “Don’t kill me! I’ll do anything you say—my body’s yours if you want it!”


    Han’s face remained a mask of indifference as he lopped off her head, finishing what Bai Ruoyue had started. Your body? he thought disdainfully. What use do I have for some cheap seductress? Women only slow down my sword arm.


    As for Senior Brother Zhang, he’d already breathed his last—no need for Han to lift a finger.


    Han dealt with their souls next, erasing every trace of their existence. With a burst of yang fire, he incinerated the four bodies, their ashes melding into the cavern floor, forever entombed.


    “Man, shitty teammates really get you killed,” Han muttered with a shake of his head. If Jin Shui hadn’t stirred up trouble, these four might’ve survived a bit longer elsewhere in the cavern. Now, they were just ghosts in the abyss.


    Since he’d already acted, leaving them alive wasn’t an option. Letting them go would only invite revenge later—a rookie mistake Han wouldn’t make.


    With four spatial pouches in tow, Han and Bai Ruoyue moved on. Rifling through Jin Shui’s belongings, Han found the stone he’d mentioned. Aside from a slight difference in shape, it was identical to the one from the serpent’s skull. Still, even with two, he couldn’t figure out their purpose.


    The pouches held some decent loot—spiritual herbs, pills, and martial weapons—but nothing groundbreaking. Coming from a dominant faction in the county capital, these four hadn’t scored any earth-shattering treasures. Han and Bai Ruoyue had seen far better; this haul was useful but hardly exciting.


    After sorting through it, Han ditched the pouches. Spatial gear couldn’t be nested, and strolling out with these in plain sight wasn’t an option.


    They pressed deeper, encountering more beasts—some at the Bone Refining Realm. Together, they cut them down without much trouble. Every Bone Refining beast, regardless of type, had a moon-white stone lodged in its skull. Beyond that, the cavern seemed unremarkable—just endless, dizzying tunnels.


    They crossed paths with others—disciples from the Wind Howl Temple and Thunder Rain Monastery—but no fights broke out. Both sides eyed each other warily and parted ways. People like Jin Shui were, thankfully, rare.


    “Little Brother, something’s off,” Bai Ruoyue said suddenly. “It feels like we’ve walked far enough to reach Wangfeng County. Could this cavern stretch all the way there? That’s insane!”


    Han shrugged. “Beats me—I’m new here too. But we’ve come this far, so we might as well keep going.”


    Their cultivation kept them steady, and with the mist gone, getting lost wasn’t a concern. They took a few detours, but overall, they were heading deeper.


    After another grueling half-hour—long enough to numb even Han’s legs—the endless maze finally shifted. The countless passages dwindled until only one remained, leading to the cavern’s heart.


    They followed it to the end, where shadows of others flickered into view. Some had arrived ahead of them. Han scanned the crowd—decent numbers, but far more were missing. Some might still be wandering the labyrinth, though he suspected most had perished. Roaming beasts and cutthroat cultivators made this place a death trap.


    Their arrival drew stares, but no one spoke up.


    At the passage’s end lay a vast open space. In one corner stood twelve figures in ancient garb, eerily still. Han’s senses sharpened as he studied them. No trace of life—no breathing, no energy—yet their faces and exposed limbs looked like real flesh, not stone. Were they corpses? Statues? Something else?


    Beyond them, at the far end, loomed a bronze gate—ten feet tall and over sixteen feet wide. Whatever secrets this cavern held, they were likely behind that door.


    “Looks like we’ve got a decent crowd now,” a voice rang out. “Let’s give it another shot, everyone.”


    It was a cultivator from the Shenhua Sect—Min Xing, a striking figure with a commanding presence. “I’m Min Xing of the Shenhua Sect. You’ve all seen it: if we want answers about this place, we’ve got to open that gate. We’ve tried before, but our strength alone wasn’t enough. We need to work together—pool our power and see if we can crack it!”


    Han nodded slightly. Made sense. They were stuck—brute force was their only play. This wasn’t some trial ground like the Ascension Hall, designed for outsiders. The cavern screamed Tianming Sect—a relic of their inner workings, not meant for easy access. But with the sect long gone, raw power might just do the trick.


    “Brother Min’s right,” Fang Cheng from the Tianlong Gate chimed in. “We need to team up.” A Dong family member echoed the sentiment. With the three strongest factions on board, no one objected. Who wouldn’t want in after making it this far?


    Han kept quiet, no interest in stealing the spotlight.


    The group gathered before the towering bronze gate, its grandeur undeniable. Under Min Xing’s direction, they launched a unified assault. Most here were Visceral Realm cultivators—tough enough to survive the journey.


    Boom! The combined force slammed into the gate, unleashing a sonic blast that left ears ringing. The impact reverberated back, a textbook case of Newton’s third law: every action has an equal reaction.


    The gate stood firm. Disappointment flickered, but no one gave up. They hit it again.


    This time, something shifted.


    The twelve lifeless figures in the corner stirred.