Refuse to trample on the pride of heaven

There was eternal darkness and silence all around them. Only the sound of bones breaking under their feet and each other's slightly rapid breathing reminded them that they were still moving.

The evil spirit enveloped everyone like thick ink. Even though there was a barrier of willpower to isolate them, the oppression and coldness coming from the depths of their souls still penetrated everywhere.

After who knows how many guiding skylarks, whose spiritual light gradually dimmed and could no longer withstand the pervasive evil spirits, they shattered with a slight "crackling" sound. Suddenly, everyone's eyes opened up, and there was no longer the narrow rock wall and endless bones.

An extremely hidden cave entrance quietly appeared behind the rugged rocks and thick demonic energy.

The entrance to the cave was not naturally formed. There were traces of violent impact and tearing by sharp claws on the edge, as if some huge monster had tried to break through here, but was forcibly blocked.

The entrance to the cave is deep, like the silent throat of a giant beast, and the surrounding scene is even more shocking.

Although they had stepped on piles of bones along the way and were already accustomed to the color of death, the dense accumulation of bones and the strange situation here still made everyone feel nervous.

Compared with the chaotic piles of bones outside that were a mixture of humans, demons, monsters and beasts, most of the corpses here showed clear human features. Mixed among them were some non-human remains of huge size and strange skeletons, which obviously had experienced extremely brutal fights.

The ravages of time and the erosion of evil spirits have long since stripped away their former luster, leaving only a dark gray, like the exposed scars on the earth.

They are stacked and nestled against each other, and many even support each other with their backs against the rock wall, maintaining the posture of their last moments of life, as if they are still holding on to something until death.

Some bones still have fragments of armor that have long been dull and damaged, and on them you can vaguely see the emblems of ancient sects or rune patterns, silently telling the identities of their owners a hundred years ago - they were the ancestral monks who bravely died and fought hard in the great war between immortals and demons.

However, what makes people feel heavy is that, unlike the skeletons outside that still have a trace of unyielding fighting spirit or resentment, the piles of bones here do not show any trace of spiritual fluctuations.

According to common sense, after a cultivator with profound cultivation dies, his bones will have gone through the years. Even if his spiritual power has dissipated, there should still be a trace of unyielding Taoist rhyme or residual divine consciousness lingering around. Especially in a place where so many high-level cultivators have died collectively, the aura should be even more powerful and difficult to dissipate.

However, here, there is only absolute silence, as if all spirituality and all traces have been completely drained and smoothed out by some force, leaving it so clean that it is heart-pounding.

This could not be explained by natural dissipation. It was as if some force had completely wiped out the soul aura that was supposed to linger here, or rather... absorbed and suppressed it.

Just as everyone was concentrating on investigating, the newly arrived guiding skylark puppet suddenly made a series of rapid "clicking" sounds. As its beak opened and closed, a thin piece of paper rolled into a thin tube was spit out, floating slowly and landing on the pile of bones in front of Lu Wensheng's feet.

Lu Wensheng's eyes narrowed slightly, and he bent down to pick it up.

In an instant, all the companions around him gathered around involuntarily, and their furry heads came closer and formed a circle, their eyes focused on the small piece of paper with curiosity and solemnity.

But the paper was covered in ink, and the handwriting was crooked and twisted, like a worm crawling in the sand or a child's graffiti. It was so wild and unrestrained that it was difficult to tell what was being written.

Everyone looked at each other, and after reading it over and over again, they were still confused.

Qu Yanhui, silently watching them through his puppet, took in the serious yet bewildered expressions on everyone's faces. A flicker of barely concealed pride and mischief crossed his eyes. Unexpectedly, right? He was the first to discover this earth-shattering secret that mattered to the survival of this world!

However, before the smile on his lips could fully unfold, he heard Lu Wensheng in the video staring at it for a long while, finally raising his clear yet puzzled brown eyes and slowly speaking, "What does this say...?"

The handwriting was so "unique" that even someone with great knowledge and memory would be puzzled at this moment - but it was in Qu Yanhui's usual style.

"..."

Qu Yanhui's expression froze in an instant, as if an invisible hand was strangling his throat. A surge of hot blood rushed to his head, and his handsome face turned red in an instant.

The young man's embarrassment was fully revealed at this moment, and the blush even spread to his ears, which was better than thousands of carefully woven love words.

Before anyone could continue pondering the heavenly book-like pattern, a skylark puppet that was significantly larger and more finely crafted swiftly and silently slid out from the shadows beside the cave entrance and landed steadily next to the little skylark.

This time, it no longer made a simple "click" sound. The delicate resonance structure in its body vibrated the air, and Qu Yanhui's voice, which was a bit exasperated but forced to be calm, came out:

"Hmph! You're a gifted son of heaven, renowned across all sects, yet you can't even read and write?" The sarcasm in his tone tried to hide the embarrassment of having his weakness seen through.

"Hey! Who can recognize this thing that looks like a ghost painting?" Yan Zhaoming was outspoken and immediately murmured in rebuttal.

Qu Yanhui seemed to take a deep breath, not wanting to argue with them about this "knowledge" anymore. His voice returned to its previous coldness, but with an unquestionable certainty: "Don't bother to identify it. There are traces of an extremely sophisticated and ancient formation here. You can just go in directly."

Formation!

A word awakens the dreamer! These words are like thunder that breaks through the fog, and everyone suddenly sees the light!

Yes, if not, how can we explain the concentration of corpses of high-level monks here, yet the complete lack of spirituality?

They did not simply die in battle here, but at the last moment of their lives, they used all their remaining spiritual energy, perhaps even a wisp of immortal soul, to jointly construct, or in other words, integrate into a huge and secret formation, becoming the cornerstone that maintains the operation of the formation's core!

Why is it that the remains of these ancestors, who obviously had great cultivation in their lifetime, have no spirituality left and are so completely extinguished!

It turns out the answer is here!

In this decisive way, they concealed the real secret of this place to prevent it from being discovered by the demons!

What a resolute and tragic protection this is? We must know how important spirituality and even the soul are to cultivators. Even in death, there is always a chance of reincarnation or the thought of inheritance.

However, the ancestors here were willing to burn everything just to keep this secret forever!

So what kind of important thing could it be that is worth them sacrificing themselves to protect it, even at the cost of their lives, and even continuing their mission in such a tragic way after death?

An almost unique answer, like a flash of lightning in the dark night, suddenly illuminated everyone's heart.

The legend says that there is a supreme being who can truly destroy the root of the demons and end the eternal demonic calamity... that divine sword that came from the ancient legend is Huang Ji.

Could it be that it is hidden right here, behind this formation that is being guarded by countless loyal souls with their spirits and minds?!

An indescribable shock and almost trembling expectation surged into my heart like a tide.

Everyone's eyes involuntarily turned to the deep cave entrance again, as if they wanted to penetrate the invisible barrier of the formation and glimpse what was hidden inside.