Chương 35: Chapter 36: Breaking the Restriction

"A demonic art!" Reyn's expression shifted instantly. The technique Wu Shengli was manifesting was clearly the 'Demonic Transformation' used by fiendish cultivators, a forbidden method that allowed one's strength to skyrocket in a terrifyingly short window of time. At that exact moment, the Earth-Shaking Finger shrieked through the air, tearing through the atmosphere with a low, guttural whistle.

Having transformed into a half-human, half-beast monstrosity, Wu Shengli had surrendered most of his higher cognitive functions to primal rage. However, a deep-seated survival instinct flared within him. He let out a jagged, animalistic roar as a sudden eruption of pitch-black mist billowed from his pores, swirling around him to form a dense, obsidian barrier that looked like a solid shield of shadow. Without a sound, the Earth-Shaking Finger collided with the black mist.

To the creature's horror, the mist didn't repel the attack; instead, it began to tremble violently before being devoured by the finger itself. After consuming the demonic haze, the crystal-clear finger transformed into a terrifying shade of midnight black. It pulsed with a vast, chaotic demonic energy, its destructive power surging even higher than before. BOOM! A thunderous explosion rocked the passage. A thick cloud of pulverized stone and dust billowed upward, obscuring Reyn's vision.

However, a quick sweep of his Divine Sense allowed him to see the carnage clearly. The once-smooth floor of the tunnel was now marred by a massive crater, half a meter deep and several yards wide. Wu Shengli lay at the center, his demonic form forcibly dispelled. His body was a map of jagged lacerations, and he had long since spiraled into a deep unconsciousness. It was only thanks to that final, desperate transformation that he had survived the Earth-Shaking Finger at all.

Once the dust settled, Reyn walked calmly toward the edge of the pit. With a casual flick of his wrist, he used his internal energy to pull the broken man into his grasp. Closing his eyes, Reyn forced his Divine Sense into the other man's mind, ruthlessly executing the Soul-Searching Art. Moments later, Reyn's eyes snapped open, a strange, calculating light flickering within them. Wu Shengli, who had been hanging on by a mere thread of life, could not withstand the trauma of a forced soul-search.

His breath hitched one last time before his life force extinguished completely. Reyn unfastened the storage bag from the corpse's waist and tossed the lifeless husk back into the crater like common refuse. He stood in silence for a moment, lost in thought, before a cold, mocking smile touched his lips. Without looking back, he continued his journey deeper into the mountain.

Far beneath the earth, in a place distant from the tunnel, a muffled groan of pain echoed through the darkness. A moment later, a voice—seductive enough to stir the soul—rippled through the air in a melodic giggle.

"Oh? It seems an interesting little fellow has arrived this time. To think he actually managed to kill one of my Demon Guards... Well then, you shall simply have to pay for that loss with your own life. Hehehehe..." The laughter was gentle and moving, yet it carried a bone-chilling intent that promised nothing but a cold grave. Back in the garden, Chu Dian's face darkened perceptibly. Just moments ago, the subtle connection he held over Wu Shengli's aura had snapped.

There was only one explanation: the man had been eradicated.

"How is this possible?" Chu Dian muttered, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Even if those two puppets managed to kill Shu Yun, Wu Shengli's strength should have been more than enough to ensure a safe retreat. How could he have fallen?" An ill omen took root in his heart, and a frigid, murderous aura began to radiate from his body.

"Brother Chu Dian, did something happen?" The Di brothers exchanged a quick, knowing glance, both spotting the flicker of unease in the other's eyes. Chu Dian gave a cold, internal sneer, but his face remained a mask of indifference.

"It is nothing. Let us increase our pace and continue breaking the restrictions."

"What a magnificent specimen of a primordial breed! Over twenty yards in length... it is easily double the size of a recorded adult Thousand-Legged Demon Beast. It must have undergone some form of mutation." In a different part of the mountain, the beast that Reyn and the others had encountered earlier—the one with a thousand sickle-like legs and a terrifying visage—was currently coiled like a massive serpent, letting out low, rumbling growls. Three figures hovered in the air around it.

One was a man as gaunt as a skeleton, his eyes glowing with a sickly green light like a walking corpse. He stared at the beast with a feverish intensity, as if looking at a priceless treasure. The second was a middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion and a portly build, resembling a wealthy merchant from the secular world. He wore a kind, harmonious smile, but his eyes remained as cold and unfeeling as ice. The final figure was an old woman with hair as white as frost.

Her expression was one of perpetual gloom, looking as though the entire world had deeply offended her. Judging by the overwhelming spiritual pressure radiating from them, all three were powerful Golden Core Realm cultivators!

"We haven't even reached the heart of the Hundred Thousand Desolate Mountains yet, and already we've encountered such a primordial beast. Not to mention the constant stream of monsters we've faced along the way. Could there be some hidden secret buried here?" the portly man asked, his voice warm despite the lack of heat in his gaze. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"We can investigate that shortly. For now, help me subdue this Thousand-Legged beast. I thought I'd have to venture into the deep interior to find anything worth my time, but this is a stroke of luck," the skeletal, corpse-like old man said, licking his lips. Green light flared in his eyes as a frigid, deathly aura erupted from his frame. The old woman frowned, her face twitching with impatience.

"Spirit Corpse, suppress that stench of rot and finish this creature quickly." The skeletal man, known as the Spirit Corpse Venerable, was a being born from a corpse that had gained sentience through cultivation. He took no offense at her words. Instead, he unleashed a torrent of pure, concentrated corpse-qi that descended upon the beast like a suffocating shroud. Roars shook the heavens as the corpse-qi clashed with the beast's primal fury.

For a brief moment, the forest was transformed into a grisly, spectral domain. A short while later, the Spirit Corpse Venerable placed his hand upon the head of the defeated beast with a look of pure joy. A dark, obsidian light pulsed from his palm, and the massive body of the Thousand-Legged Demon Beast began to wither at a visible rate. Droplet by droplet, emerald-green essence blood was drawn out and collected into a jade vial held in his other hand. Snap! The beast's physical remains crumbled into fine ash.

The Spirit Corpse Venerable looked at the vial, now brimming with essence blood, and let out a series of harsh, grating cackles that set the ears on edge.

"Let's move. I can sense something peculiar about this place. If we scout ahead, we might find some unexpected gains." The three cultivators transformed into streaks of light and flew toward the horizon. Reyn stepped out of the tunnel and found himself standing before a small, single-log bridge. The bridge spanned exactly three yards, three feet, and three inches. It was pitch black, crafted from a material that felt neither like wood nor metal.

Beneath it, a river flowed sluggishly, the water swirling into miniature whirlpools as it broke against the jagged rocks of the riverbed.

"It is exactly as Wu Shengli's memories described. Anyone exiting the tunnel is randomly transported into a specific hidden realm. Everything before me is a manifestation of a restriction. To reach the next level, I must break this illusion," Reyn muttered, his brow furrowing as a trace of hesitation crossed his face. His primary goal for this journey was to find a method for Foundation Establishment.

Having found nothing so far, he could not afford to turn back, even knowing the path ahead was fraught with lethal danger. His gaze swept over the bridge and the flowing water. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly; the restriction techniques of ancient cultivators were truly extraordinary. To the naked eye, there wasn't a single flaw in the scenery. Had he not been forewarned by the stolen memories, he likely would have been deceived as well.

Closing his eyes, he allowed his Divine Sense to drift outward, meticulously scanning every inch of the space. After a long silence, Reyn's eyes snapped open. He moved with sudden precision: forward, left, right, forward. Four steps in total. Everything remained calm. The bridge was still black, and the water remained clear. His tense muscles slowly relaxed, though a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead.

"It seems I gambled correctly. This is indeed the starting point for breaking the array," Reyn whispered. Even though the power of this restriction had faded to less than a tenth of its original strength over the millennia, his Divine Sense—which was comparable to a Mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator—could only discern the faintest of clues. Those four steps had been a literal gamble with his life; a single misstep would have triggered the restriction and likely reduced him to ash in an instant.

Reyn looked up, his expression becoming increasingly solemn. He had survived the start, but there were still nine steps between him and the end of the bridge. In his eyes, those nine steps were a minefield of lethal traps. He lifted his left foot and stepped forward. Instantly, the world shifted. He was no longer on a bridge but standing in the heart of a volcanic abyss. Fire raged everywhere, and waves of heat distorted the very air. Walls of flame surged toward him, threatening to consume him whole.

The terrifying heat slammed into him, shattering his spiritual energy shield instantly. Sweat soaked his robes in a heartbeat. Yet, Reyn's eyes remained resolute. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward two more steps, diving directly into the heart of the inferno. The moment the flames touched his skin, they vanished. The fiery abyss disappeared as if it had never existed. Reyn looked up to find himself in a world of endless ice and snow.

A bone-chilling cold rose from the depths of his soul, freezing the sweat on his body into jagged ice and making the circulation of his True Essence sluggish and difficult. BOOM! The world let out a roar as a massive avalanche thundered toward him. Reyn's eyes flashed with a strange light. Watching the wall of white death roll closer, he gritted his teeth and took another step forward. It felt like stepping into a pool of still water, sending ripples through the fabric of reality.

As the ripples vibrated, the frozen wasteland dissolved, replaced by a grey, misty void. A phantom figure dressed in black, wielding a dark blade, stood before him. Though it was only an image, the sharp, terrifying Sword Intent radiating from it felt as though it could cleave the heavens. The hair on the back of Reyn's neck stood on end. Whoosh! The man in black raised his head. Two beams of sword-light flashed from his eyes—eyes so dark they seemed capable of swallowing the universe.

He raised his sword and struck downward. The movement was agonizingly slow, yet Reyn felt a wave of absolute lethality wash over him. A crisis of life and death completely enveloped his being. The image is a phantom, but the Sword Intent is real! Reyn's pupils constricted. His feet moved with practiced, frantic precision: one step left, one step back, left again, left again, and finally three rapid steps forward before twisting his body sideways.

The Sword Intent hissed past the tip of Reyn's nose, missing him by a hair's breadth. Having unleashed its strike, the phantom of the black-clothed man began to fade. It might have been an illusion, but Reyn thought he saw a flicker of relief in the man's eyes. Could a mere construct of an array possess its own consciousness? The thought flashed through his mind just as the grey space shattered like a mirror into a million shards. He was back at the bridge.

Nothing seemed to have changed, except he was now only two steps away from the far end. Reyn looked back at the spot where the phantom's sword had struck, his pupils shrinking as he watched the reality of the bridge begin to warp. The black bridge began to vibrate violently, and the water below surged upward in silent, ghostly waves. There was no sound, making the scene feel like a haunting painting brought to life. A smile finally touched Reyn's lips. The illusion was breaking.

Sure enough, the bridge and the river grew increasingly transparent until they vanished entirely. A wave of dizziness washed over Reyn, and when his feet finally touched solid ground again, he found himself standing on the other side of the barrier.