Just as Fang Xiu was violently shaken by the unexpected opening of the inheritance entrance and attempted to shake off Ling Qingyu's bone-chilling sword intent that clung to him like maggots on rotting bone—
Hum—!
A soul-shivering pressure descended from the sky without the slightest warning!
A palm imprint as black as ink seemed to reach out from the depths of the Netherworld, carrying terrifying might capable of tearing down citadels and annihilating all things as it pressed silently downward toward the center of the battle!
Wherever it passed, the air let out an overwhelmed wail, and the spiritual energy was instantly drained and crushed, leaving behind a trail of void.
Its target was none other than Ling Qingyu, who was locked in fierce combat with Fang Xiu!
This palm strike came too suddenly, too terrifically! It far exceeded the scope of Early Foundation Establishment, filling even Shi Yan and Shang Shuyi—newly established in their foundations and brimming with confidence—with a sense of mortal peril!
“Watch out!”
“Junior Sister Qingyu!”
Shi Yan and Shang Shuyi roared almost purely on instinct. The blazing flames surrounding Shi Yan seemed suppressed by an invisible force at that moment, yet he still bellowed, pouring all his strength into both fists as he transformed into a crimson meteor surging upward, brazenly colliding against that black palm imprint!
Shang Shuyi waved her jade hand swiftly, pouring out her verdant spiritual power without reservation to instantly erect layered azure wood ramparts overflowing with rich vitality before Ling Qingyu, each vine shimmering with runic light, harder than refined steel.
Yet before such an absolute disparity in power, all these defenses appeared utterly futile.
Boom—!!!
The black palm imprint violently collided with the crimson meteor and the azure wood ramparts!
There was no stalemate, no contest.
The instant they made contact, the flames upon Shi Yan's fists were snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Struck as if by lightning, his protective spiritual light shattered immediately, and a tooth-grinding crack sounded from his sternum. Blood sprayed madly from his mouth and nose, trailing behind him as he flew backward and smashed heavily into the distant ground. A deep crater blasted open amidst rising dust, his fate unknown.
The sturdy azure wood ramparts were torn apart like paper, snapping and disintegrating inch by inch beneath the destructive aura radiating from the palm's edge. Shang Shuyi let out a muffled groan, the color draining from her lovely face in an instant. Her body convulsed violently before being flung backward like a kite with a snapped string, spilling a trail of gruesome blood droplets in midair as her aura rapidly withered.
As for Ling Qingyu, desperately shielded behind the two, though she had not borne the full brunt of the palm strike, the terrifying blast of stray force still sent her plunging into an icy abyss.
She raised her sword horizontally to parry, but her ice-blue sword astral held for merely half a breath before violently exploding, the longsword letting out an agonized wail as it flew from her grasp.
Blown back by that irresistible force, she sprayed fresh blood mid-flight, her ice-blue dress stained with broad swaths of glaring crimson. She finally crashed down several dozen zhang away. After struggling a few times, she lacked even the strength to stand; she could only brace herself against the ground with one hand, coughing violently, each heave bringing up more bloody foam.
Silence!
A dead, stifling silence!
The battlefield, which had been deafened by battle cries just moments before, was now left with only heavy panting and suppressed gasps of sheer terror.
All the surviving righteous disciples froze in place, staring dumbfounded at the scene that had unfolded in the blink of an eye.
A dreadful thought surfaced in everyone's minds, chilling them to the bone with despair.
“T-This has to be a joke, right...?” A disciple's lips quivered, his voice shaking uncontrollably.
As if to confirm his terror, three figures enveloped in dense demonic qi appeared silently in the sky above the battlefield, treading the air like fiendgods.
The leader was an elder clad in a dark purple robe embroidered with demonic patterns. His face was withered and gaunt, but his eyes were as deep as an abyss; as they opened and closed, mountains of corpses and seas of blood seemed to drift within.
Paying no heed to the ant-like righteous disciples below, those eyes—which seemed capable of devouring all light—looked straight toward the spatial rift that was slowly rotating in the sky and giving off ancient, obscure fluctuations.
“To think...” the black-robed elder spoke slowly. His voice was hoarse, yet it held a strange piercing power, ringing clearly in everyone's ears. “Even the inheritance entrance that we could not pinpoint despite all our efforts would be drawn out by this inexplicable aura, revealing itself ahead of time...”
His tone carried a faint trace of surprise, but even more so, an undeniable sense of absolute control.
Immediately after, his gaze shifted slightly to fall upon Fang Xiu and Tu Lingqie, who stood bowed below with pale faces. That gaze was as cold as ice, completely devoid of warmth.
“Fang Xiu, Tu Lingqie.”
The elder's voice was flat, yet it made their bodies shudder violently. “On this expedition into the secret realm, so many elite disciples of our clan were lost, and two core disciples have even perished. The two of you cannot escape the blame.”
He paused, every word striking like a heavy hammer against Fang Xiu and Tu Lingqie's hearts.
“Upon returning, report to the Punishment Hall of your own accord to receive the punishment of ‘Demonic Fire Heart Devouring.’”
The moment the four words “Demonic Fire Heart Devouring” were spoken, not only did Fang Xiu and Tu Lingqie's faces turn as white as paper, but even the surviving demonic disciples behind them revealed expressions of terror, clearly fearing this punishment to the utmost extreme.
Fang Xiu and Tu Lingqie lowered their heads deeply, concealing the churning dread and resentment in their eyes. Their voices shook with suppressed trembling: “Yes... Elder! Your disciples accept the punishment!”
Meanwhile, this scene struck the remaining righteous disciples like a bolt out of the blue!
An... an Elder?
An Elder of the demon clan?!
“An Elder... isn't that... the Nascent Soul realm?!” a disciple blurted out in horror, his voice brimming with boundless dread and despair.
“N-Nascent Soul... How... how could we possibly...”
“It's over... It's all over...”
Panic spread like a plague, and what little fighting will they had left was completely crushed in this moment.
Perhaps they could have barely managed to hold on with their numbers and the newly established trio of Shi Yan, but against a legendary Nascent Soul powerhouse... it was akin to a mantis trying to stop a chariot—a total, utterly despairing crushing!
Having lost their wits, they did not pause to consider that the entry condition for this secret realm was Qi Condensation, and at most, one could only reach the Late Foundation Establishment stage within.
With the arrival of these three figures and the single address of “Elder,” the entire battlefield plunged completely into an abyss of silence and despair.
The air seemed to freeze, leaving only the suffocating, terrifying pressure radiating from the demon clan Elders silently proclaiming their absolute dominion.
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