Zhou Hairui stood with his hands clasped behind his back, that faint, unchanging smile still resting on his face.
Then, from within his storage pouch, he withdrew a strange object a pulsating, fleshy sack of enormous size. Its surface was a nauseating dark red, covered in twisted veins and grotesque folds, resembling nothing so much as the stomach of some great living beast.
Zhou Hairui flicked his wrist lightly, tossing the sack into the air. Its mouth suddenly gaped wide, transforming into a vast, blood-red maw that seemed to open into an endless void. A terrible suction force exploded outward from within!
Qin Yi barely had time to blink before the world around him blurred. The scenery rushed past like a receding tide, and before he could react, his entire body was swallowed by that devouring force.
Moments later, the “meat sack” drifted up into the sky and began flying slowly eastward.
All across the sect, people seemed to sense its passing. Heads turned upward in unison.
At the Three Talents Pavilion, Steward Zhu suddenly burst to the doorway, trembling as he looked toward the heavens then rushed back inside in panic.
“Too late! Too late!” he shouted hoarsely. “Why has Blood Banquet Valley set out so soon? Damn it, weren’t we supposed to leave at noon!?”
“Quick finish refining the Thunderstruck Talismans! If you don’t, you’ll die with me!”
Sweat poured down his face in heavy drops, but his shouting did nothing to change the situation.
Liu Jiu, however, continued calmly drawing lines of spiritual ink across the talisman paper, unhurried and precise. It was a delicate craft one that couldn’t be rushed. Besides, most of his focus was already elsewhere.
…
The weightlessness and dizziness lasted only an instant.
When Qin Yi’s feet found solid ground again, the world before his eyes had completely changed.
He had expected to find himself inside that disgusting, slimy stomach lining but instead, what appeared before him was a refined, elegant room, decorated in an antique style.
Tables and chairs of fine spiritual wood were arranged neatly throughout, and on one table sat a steaming teapot, the fragrant aroma of spirit-tea curling gracefully through the air.
Had he not personally experienced the process, Qin Yi would never have believed that such a refined space existed inside that hideous “belly pouch.”
Only now did he finally understand: that grotesque “stomach” was actually Zhou Hairui’s flying treasure.
Just knowing that made his skin crawl he didn’t even want to imagine what materials had been used to forge it.
Looking around, he noticed eight or nine other people already in the room.
Each radiated a distinct aura, each with a unique presence, but they shared one thing in common silence.
When Qin Yi entered, they merely lifted their eyelids, glanced at him briefly, and said nothing.
The room was so quiet that a pin drop could have been heard.
Qin Yi also swept his gaze across them quietly, committing a few of the more striking faces to memory.
One man was built like an iron tower, muscles coiled and bulging; even seated, he radiated suffocating pressure.Another was a pale, androgynous youth who calmly polished a blade so thin it gleamed like cicada wings his eyes utterly devoid of emotion.And a third, a frail woman with a sickly pallor, sat biting her own hair with nervous intensity…
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
These people, Qin Yi thought, must be the chosen disciples from Blood Banquet Valley those selected to join this expedition into the secret realm.
Though Zhou Hairui seemed unimpressed with them, Qin Yi had no such illusion every single one of them looked dangerous.
“Sit. Rest a while,” Zhou Hairui’s hoarse voice broke the silence.
He had already taken a seat by the table, pouring himself a cup of tea. He gestured for Qin Yi to sit as well.
“The Six-Cross Mountain secret realm isn’t far from here,” he continued, “but we’ll need a little time to get there. While we travel, let me tell you about it.”
Qin Yi obeyed, sitting quietly and lifting the teacup.
The tea was hot and fragrant, and as it slid down his throat, a refreshing warmth spread through his entire body, driving away fatigue and sharpening his mind.
Even without much knowledge, he could tell this was no ordinary brew.
Zhou Hairui sipped his own tea, then said slowly, “You already know that the Six-Cross Mountain secret realm is a Decline-Phase Secret Realm. But do you know… which Dao Path it once belonged to?”
No one answered.
Qin Yi didn’t know either.
He had tried to investigate during the past few days. Even Liu Meng, who had many contacts, could find nothing.
Everyone only knew that the secret realm existed. Beyond that, it was a mystery.
The only rumor was: it’s terrifying.
But when asked what made it so terrifying, no one could say.
So all Qin Yi really knew was this it was a decayed, ancient secret realm.
The rest, he would have to discover for himself.
The others in the room were clearly just as ignorant.
Zhou Hairui didn’t seem surprised. He set down his cup and said calmly,
“This secret realm has existed for an unimaginably long time so long that the world has forgotten its origin. It was once a ‘Hai Suan (亥算)’ realm.”
Hai Suan…?
Qin Yi mouthed the unfamiliar name, recalling the other Dao Paths he had heard of:
The Yin Learning of the Li Shi Pavilion;The Wu Commerce of the Three Talents Pavilion;The Wei Construction of Luo Shan City;And the Xu Consumption of Blood Banquet Valley.
Now, a fifth appeared Hai Suan.
Before anyone could ask, Zhou Hairui continued explaining:
“Do you know what power this Dao Path possessed?”
Without waiting for a response, he answered himself:
“It could divine the heavens, measure the will of the sky, and know destiny itself. Everything you can imagine it could calculate. It was, without question, the mightiest of the Twelve Dao Paths.”
“And precisely because it was the mightiest… it was destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” Qin Yi’s eyes flickered with disbelief.
If it was the strongest of all paths, how could it have fallen?
Zhou Hairui lowered his cup, his tone even and grave.
“Its power made all other Paths fear and hate it. But that was not the true cause of its fall. The real culprit the one that doomed it remains a mystery even today.”
“In short, the Six-Cross Mountain secret realm is the final remnant of the Hai Suan Path.”
“It is, in truth, a tomb. Since ancient times, none who entered have ever returned. Not one.”
“Be they of our demonic sect or the so-called righteous sects, countless geniuses have perished within its depths. Eventually, everyone learned fear.”
“And so, the realm was sealed off declared forbidden. None dared to step inside again.”
He paused, eyes glinting faintly.
“But time erases all things.”
“We waited hundreds, perhaps thousands of years allowing the river of ages to grind away its divine might. We waited for its spiritual power to wane, for its world-laws to crumble into dust.”
“And now, finally, it has become a Decline-Phase Secret Realm. Its fangs have been pulled, its claws broken. Only now can we dare to enter again to see what treasures the strongest Dao Path left behind.”
“This time, four of our demonic sect’s branches will enter together. But the righteous path’s five sects will also join the exploration.”
“An agreement has been reached: we will not interfere with one another. Still be prepared. If those hypocrites make the first move, do not be fools who meekly accept slaughter. Do not disgrace the name of demonic cultivators!”
“Yes, Senior Brother Zhou!”
The reply came like thunder loud, proud, and sudden, breaking the tense silence.
The voice was full of vigor, immediately drawing every gaze in the room.
Qin Yi turned toward the source and froze.
The man who had spoken was a stranger to him.
But what shocked Qin Yi most was not his face…
It was the three eyes staring back at him.
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