Nine Transformations of the True Spirit.

More than 23,000 li southeast of the Silver Moon Mountains lies a vast plain.

But on the plains, there stands a solitary peak that rises abruptly from the ground, soaring straight into the clouds.

The mountain is covered with gray-black gravel, which spreads down the gentle slopes on all sides, forming a strange black desert.

At the top of the mountain, there is a lake about an acre in size. The water is slightly murky and ripples in the night breeze.

This is a dead volcano, known as Iron Feather Peak due to its iron-black appearance.

Several cities have been built around it, but few people come here because Iron Feather Peak is too desolate.

But at this moment, on the northern slope of Iron Feather Peak, lay ten enormous silver wolf corpses.

The giant wolf carcasses were arranged in two rows, one above the other. The first row of four carcasses, each about forty or fifty feet long, were lined up in a row, almost filling the entire north slope near the mountaintop, making it appear somewhat crowded.

The six giant wolf corpses in the second row were much smaller, only twenty or thirty feet long, but when lined up, they still took up a considerable amount of space.

Although they varied in size, all ten giant wolf carcasses were intact, with not a single scratch on their bodies.

Their silver fur reflected a brilliant light under the moonlight.

But within this brilliant light, there was not a trace of life, exuding a stiff and lifeless feeling.

Even more bizarrely, all ten giant wolf corpses died with their eyes wide open, their green pupils filled with pain and despair, as if they had suffered unimaginable torment before their deaths.

The long wolf's snout opened to its limit, its scarlet tongue hanging limply on the ground, but the gray-black pebbles formed from lava could not be stained by it at all.

On the shore of the lake atop the mountain, five cultivators stood silently, gazing at the northwest horizon. Their pale faces barely maintained a calm demeanor, yet they could not conceal the panic in their eyes.

The two leaders were clearly more composed, but the other three had faces full of terror, and their bodies were even trembling slightly.

They seemed to be suffering torture at all times, and could escape at any moment, but for some reason, they never took action.

On the ground to the side, the corpse of a middle-aged monk was kneeling.

Like the ten wolf corpses, he had no wounds on his body, and even his robe embroidered with a giant silver wolf was intact.

But his expression was one of extreme pain, his hands tightly clutching his head, his ten fingers digging deep into his skull, leaving ten horrifying bloody holes.

Its wide-open eyes were bloodshot, still showing signs of struggle, clearly indicating that it had only recently died, giving off a chilling feeling.

The five men would occasionally glance down at the corpse, then look down at the ten giant wolf carcasses below, only then could their panicked expressions ease slightly.

The wind at the summit of Iron Feather Peak was much stronger than the wind in the plains below, ruffling the lake at the summit and causing the sleeves of the five people's robes to flutter wildly in the wind.

Suddenly, the wind stopped, the ripples on the lake disappeared, the clothes that had been fluttering freely fell silently, and the dark clouds flying in the sky froze.

Everything fell silent. The world, which should have been untamed and full of wonders, suddenly became cautious and exuded a sense of oppression.

The five cultivators were taken aback when they sensed the changes in this world.

Immediately afterwards, an incomparably powerful pressure came from the northwest horizon they were looking at, carrying a fury that could overturn the heavens and the earth, and pressed down on the five people!

The five cultivators' expressions changed drastically, and their auras surged as they resisted this powerful pressure.

The two leading figures were clearly two great cultivators, while the other three were a mid-Nascent Soul cultivator and two early-Nascent Soul cultivators.

At this moment, they all had a look of panic on their faces, and they all summoned their defensive magic treasures to block in front of them, as if they had planned it beforehand.

At the same time, a dazzling silver light appeared from the northwest horizon and flew towards this place at an astonishing speed.

Like a silver meteor falling from the sky, it ruthlessly pierced the night sky, instantly traversing dozens of miles, and came to a sudden stop a hundred feet away from Iron Feather Peak.

The light faded, revealing Yin Qianjie in a black robe. His silver hair danced without wind, and his emerald eyes were fixed on the ten giant wolf corpses on the north slope of Iron Feather Peak. He exuded a strong aura of malevolence.

The five Nascent Soul cultivators became increasingly flustered and retreated rapidly, but they only retreated a dozen feet before stopping at the edge of the lake on the mountaintop.

An invisible barrier seemed to be blocking them, preventing them from retreating even a step. One of the early-stage Nascent Soul cultivators glanced back, a pleading look flashing in his eyes.

The lake was as smooth as a mirror, without a ripple, and the summit of Iron Feather Peak was completely silent.

He turned around, and the fear on his face suddenly vanished. He looked at Yin Qianjie with a look of grim determination.

Yin Qianjie raised his head, glanced at the kneeling corpse with its hands covering its head, and then slowly swept his gaze over the five cultivators, saying each word clearly, "How did they die? Why were you able to survive?"

Just as a powerful cultivator was about to answer, an aged voice rang out: "Your cultivation is so profound that it can change the very fabric of the world. You must be the 'Howling Moon Wolf King' Yin Qianjie. We have been waiting here for quite some time."

As soon as the words fell, an invisible protective shield slowly dissipated from the lake behind the five cultivators, as if a transparent veil had been lifted to reveal a boulder only a few feet in size.

At the top of the boulder, five figures soared into the air and arrived in front of the five cultivators.

Yin Qianjie recognized one of them as Shen Jibai, whom he had personally captured and planted with the Blood Silk Gu.

He stood behind the other four, his eyes darting away, not daring to look directly at Yin Qianjie.

However, Yin Qianjie had never seen the other four people.

He spread his divine sense and swept it over the four people, but it was like a stone sinking into the sea; he couldn't discern anything about their true nature.

The only thing that can be confirmed is that these four people do not have a trace of demonic aura and are all human cultivators.

Yin Qianjie felt a chill run down his spine, and his overwhelming aura subtly weakened.

He had long suspected that there was someone behind it all, so he wouldn't be surprised if he saw She Zhelin and Kun Chenglie appear together, or if Ao Cang and Xiong Tunhai made a move together.

But these four unfathomable human cultivators were something he hadn't expected.

The person whose cultivation level he couldn't see through was definitely not an ordinary Nascent Soul cultivator.

But how could the weak human race suddenly produce four Nascent Soul cultivators?

A hint of surprise and doubt flashed in Yin Qianjie's eyes as he swept his gaze over the four people and slowly asked, "Who are you? Why are you attacking our demon general?"

The old man in black who had spoken earlier smiled slightly: "The Wolf King is in seclusion and rarely seen. In order to invite the Wolf King here, we had no choice but to resort to this tactic. Please forgive us, Wolf King."

Yin Qianjie said, "The Wolf King was just a joke among the clansmen. I dare not accept such praise. May I ask the four of you... what are your esteemed names?"

"If you four fellow Daoists have something to ask me, I will come out of seclusion to meet you. Why make such a fuss?"

Upon hearing this, the five Wolf God Cult cultivators were stunned.

They had seen Yin Qianjie once during a grand ceremony to worship the Heavenly Dog.

Even in front of the five elders of the Howling Moon Silver Wolf clan, he remained unyielding and exuded authority.

Yin Qianjie did not display any supernatural powers at the ceremony, but a trace of his aura was released, which was like a mountain pressing down, almost causing the Nascent Soul cultivators of the Wolf God Sect to be unable to withstand it.

Moreover, Yin Qianjie made no attempt to conceal his contempt for the Wolf God Cult cultivators, but the more he did so, the more awe they felt towards him.

The demon race is revered, and the human race is lowly; this is only natural.

Although they may not sincerely worship the Wolf God, their ability to form a Nascent Soul and ride on the heads of other low-level cultivators is entirely due to the elixirs and miraculous medicines bestowed upon them by the Howling Moon Silver Wolf clan.

They had never seen the wolf god they worshipped regularly. Yin Qianjie was their wolf god, and the wolf god was supposed to be high above, regarding all things as ants.

But the "Howling Moon Wolf King," who was like a demon god in their eyes, addressed the lowly human slave as a fellow Daoist, and his tone even revealed a hint of weakness.

A crack quietly appeared in the iron-clad beliefs of the five cultivators.

The old man in black laughed and said, "We wish to borrow the Wolf King's head for a purpose. If we were to visit him in person, the Wolf King would probably refuse to see us."

Yin Qianjie's expression changed slightly, while the other white-haired old Taoist priest showed a hint of impatience and coldly said, "Why waste words with this demon general? Hurry up and send him on his way!" (End of this chapter)