The male protagonist of the book is poisonous

Within the sect's serene and mysterious chamber, the elders were absorbed in the in-depth study of the dark spiritual energy crystal brought by Senior Brother Chu Feng. The chamber was spacious, covering dozens of square meters. The walls were constructed of massive bluestone slabs, each bearing the marks of time. Their surface was slightly rough, yet they exuded a sense of ancient heaviness. Ancient paintings and calligraphy hung on the stone walls. The paper they covered was yellowed, the edges slightly curled, as if telling stories from ages past. Though the ink had faded somewhat with the erosion of time, the landscapes, figures, and strange runic patterns could still be clearly discerned. The table was covered with a variety of simple yet exquisite instruments, each of varying shapes. Some resembled small cauldrons, their surfaces engraved with intricate patterns. These patterns, like living things, twisted and turned, each emanating faint fluctuations of spiritual energy, as if engaging in a mysterious dialogue with the surrounding space. Others resembled delicate compasses, their needles trembling slightly, as if drawn by some invisible force, surrounded by a ring of tiny crystals. These crystals shimmered with a mystical light, as if sensing the shifting spiritual energy around them. Others resembled strange funnels, their inner walls gleaming with a mysterious light, like a flowing galaxy, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, each flicker accompanied by a subtle surge of spiritual energy. The table was also piled high with ancient tomes on spiritual power. Their yellowed pages exuded an air of antiquity, as if telling of a long history. The cover of each ancient book has a unique logo. Some are sealed with special runes. The runes seem to have life, faintly emitting fluctuations of power. Some are painted with the emblems of ancient sects. The patterns of the emblems are exquisite and complex, and contain the mysterious power inherited by the sect.

The elders, with expressions of intense concentration, carefully placed the crystal in the center of a specially constructed formation. This formation, an ancient one passed down through generations of the sect, consisted of complex threads of spiritual energy connecting the surrounding rune stones. The rune stones were densely engraved with runes, each shimmering with a faint glow, like the twinkling stars in the night sky—faint yet full of hope. The rune stones varied in size. The larger ones, the size of a fist, were intricately etched with profound runes. Each rune was like a miniature world, containing endless spiritual secrets. The smaller rune stones, barely the size of a thumb, were equally intricately engraved with runes. Despite their small size, these rune stones played a crucial role, like the screws in the formation, small yet indispensable. The elders sought to explore the mysterious and complex spiritual structure within the crystal. Their eyes, filled with curiosity and caution, stared intently at the crystal, as if they were trying to see through it. The fingers of an elder trembled slightly. He knew very well the danger of this crystal, but was attracted by the power contained in it, like a moth to a flame, fearful and full of desire.

An elder frowned, beads of sweat beading on his forehead. His brow was covered in wrinkles, like ravines carved by time, each one telling of the vicissitudes of life. He spoke solemnly, "Although this dark spiritual energy crystal contains immense power, it is also extremely unstable. If we are careless, it could trigger a spiritual energy uprising, with disastrous consequences." His voice was low and hoarse, like a warning from the ancient abyss. The other elders nodded in agreement. They understood the dangers. This dark spiritual energy crystal was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it could be the key to restraining the dark forces of the Shadow Pavilion, but on the other, if mishandled, it could bring catastrophic disaster to the sect. However, for the safety of the sect and the peace of the entire cultivation world, they had to find a way to utilize it. The elders began searching ancient texts for relevant records. One elder flipped through a tome rapidly, his fingers rustling across the pages. His eyes quickly scanned the pages, muttering to himself: "Dark spiritual power, ancient books mentioned that similar spiritual power fluctuations had appeared in ancient times, but the way of dealing with it at that time..." His eyes revealed a hint of anxiety, but also determination, hoping to find useful information from the ancient books as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, in a dark corner of the secret room, the subdued leader of the Shadow Pavilion, taking advantage of a brief pause while the guards changed shifts, secretly performed a unique spell of liberation. His eyes revealed a hint of cunning and ferocity, a faint green light flickering in them like a will-o'-the-wisp in the darkness. He clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles bulging slightly. He secretly channeled the faint wisps of spiritual energy remaining within him, flowing slowly through his meridians like a trickle gathering into a river. His meridians were still somewhat damaged from the previous battle, like fragile pipes, and the flow of spiritual energy occasionally stagnated. Each blockage caused his body to tremble slightly, but with his tenacious will, he forced the energy to continue flowing. As his spiritual energy flowed, the ropes binding him began to loosen. Made of a special spiritual material, the ropes were incredibly tough, but under the onslaught of his ever-increasing spiritual power, they gradually lost their original strength. He gradually broke free from his restraints, preparing to find a chance to escape the secret room that trapped him. His eyes were fixed on the door, his ears were carefully listening to the movements outside, and his mind was calculating an escape route. His heartbeat gradually accelerated, like a rapid drumbeat, each beat filled with tension and anticipation.

Back in the valley, after returning to shore, Brother Lingxiao, Lengshuang, and the woman in white eagerly set to work on a tranquil meadow studying the ancient tome they had retrieved from the lakebed. Lush trees surrounded the meadow, each towering and majestic, like loyal guardians. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating specks of golden light that resembled blossoming flowers. These specks danced across the grass like spirits. The ancient book's paper was delicate, as if crumbling to dust at the slightest touch. Its texture was as thin as a cicada's wing, and the words within read like ancient spells, mysterious and profound. They turned the pages with care, each movement gentle as if handling the most precious treasure in the world. Lengshuang's fingers, slender and slender, her nails manicured and smooth, gently traced the pages of the ancient book. She softly recited the words from the ancient tome: "The Shadow Pavilion, originally built in ancient times, was intended to protect the source of dark spiritual energy. However, it was later corrupted by darkness and gradually led astray..." Her voice was soft and soothing, like the sound of a mountain spring, as if she were telling an ancient and mysterious legend. As she recited, she gently stroked the illustrations in the tome. The illustrations depicted the former site of the Shadow Pavilion: a magnificent building, its walls seemingly constructed of dark stone, exuding a sinister aura. A dark cloud of spiritual energy surrounded the building, like a black python, coiling around it, as if threatening to devour it. Brother Ling Xiao stared intently at the jade, his eyes unblinking, as if he could see through it. He noticed tiny lines on the jade, a complex maze-like pattern. Upon closer examination, he discovered that these lines seemed to correspond to certain markings on the map he had seen in the cave. This discovery filled him with both doubt and anticipation. He held the jade up to the sunlight, letting it pass through the jade. The sunlight reflected brilliant light in the jade, hoping to discover more secrets.

"This jade stone could be a crucial clue to a key location in the Shadow Pavilion's headquarters, but how do we get there?" Brother Ling Xiao raised his head, frowning in thought. His brows resembled two small hills, a shallow ravine forming between them. A woman in white stood nearby, her white garment fluttering gently in the breeze, like a fairy descending to earth. Her garment, seemingly made of the purest silk, was flawless, its movement resembling flowing white clouds. She gazed at them, a hint of mystery in her eyes, and said, "I know a place where a hermit lives. He's deeply familiar with the history and geography of the Shadow Pavilion. Perhaps he can help us." The woman in white gazed into the distance, as if catching sight of the hermit's residence. Her eyes shone with anticipation, their brightness gleaming like the brightest star in the night sky.

Just as they were about to depart, a powerful surge of spiritual energy suddenly erupted from the sect's direction. It surged like a surging wave, sweeping across the air, a humming ripple of overwhelming force. The sound was like countless bees buzzing around their ears, deafening. Brother Ling Xiao's heart tightened, his face paling, the color draining from his once rosy complexion. He exclaimed, "Oh no! Something might have happened to the sect." Without hesitation, the three of them rushed towards the sect. Their figures darted through the trees, stirring a gust of wind that rustled the leaves like a stirring symphony. Their steps were so swift, each step felt like stepping on the wind, as they sped towards the sect.

Returning to the sect, they were met with a scene of chaos. The leader of the Phantom Pavilion had already escaped the secret chamber and reunited with the remaining Phantom Pavilion forces who had arrived to support them. Like ghosts, they traversed the sect, wreaking havoc, unleashing a wave of dark energy wherever they went. This dark energy, like a black smoke, permeated every corner of the sect. The smoke seemed to have a life of its own, constantly spreading and expanding. Numerous disciples were struck by this dark energy, falling wounded. The injured groaned in pain, their faces etched with anguish. Some clutched their wounds, which emanated a black aura, as if corroded by darkness. Others struggled to stand and continue fighting, but their legs felt heavy as lead, unable to move. The sect's buildings also sustained varying degrees of damage. The dark energy ripped the roofs of some buildings apart, sending tiles flying everywhere. The tiles fluttered in the air like broken butterflies before falling heavily to the ground. Black marks appeared on the wall, as if it had been swallowed by darkness. Those marks were like black vines, spreading and growing on the wall.

Senior Brother Chu Feng was agile, brandishing his sword as he led his disciples in a valiant resistance. His sword gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight, and each swing unleashed a surge of powerful spiritual energy, which materialized like ripples, spreading outward toward the members of the Shadow Pavilion. His posture was like that of a cheetah, moving effortlessly between the enemies. But the leader of the Shadow Pavilion seemed well prepared, possessing a new magical weapon. The weapon was peculiarly shaped, resembling a black sphere, engraved with strange runes. These runes glowed with a faint green light, like will-o'-the-wisp fire from hell, imbued with an evil aura. The dark power emanating from this weapon was even more powerful than before. Each dark spiritual attack unleashed was like a bolt of black lightning, swiftly shooting towards the disciples. The black lightning was like the tentacles of a demon, leaving devastation wherever it passed.

"You think you can trap me? Today is the day your sect will be destroyed!" The leader of the Shadow Pavilion stood in the center of the sect's square, laughing wildly. His laughter echoed throughout the air above the sect, filled with arrogance and evil, like the cry of a night owl, chilling to the bone. As he laughed, he directed his men to attack a vital area of ​​the sect, seemingly targeting the source of the sect's spiritual power. His eyes revealed a madness, like a madman who had lost his mind.

Just as the sect was in crisis, Brother Ling Xiao, Leng Shuang, and the woman in white arrived. The woman in white looked at the chaotic situation, a look of determination flashing in her eyes. Her eyes were like sharp swords, revealing a firm determination. She said, "We must join forces and subdue him first."

Brother Ling Xiao and Leng Shuang nodded in agreement without hesitation. Brother Ling Xiao took a deep breath, his chest like a bellows, sucking in a vast expanse of air. He gripped his sword tightly and charged directly towards the Shadow Pavilion leader. His speed was immense, like a flash of lightning piercing the darkness, his figure leaving a blurry trail in the air. His sword gleamed with light, a radiance like the flames of justice. It collided with the Shadow Pavilion leader's magical weapon, emitting a shower of dazzling sparks. Sparks flew like glittering stars, scattering across the ground. Like ethereal spirits, they danced through the air for a moment before vanishing. Leng Shuang, on the side, swiftly cast a spell. Her hands formed seals rapidly, her fingers moving with the swiftness and precision of a dancer. She chanted an ice spell, her voice clear and resonant, like the sound of crackling ice. As the spell rang out, the temperature of the surrounding air plummeted, and cones of ice appeared from thin air. Like sharp arrows, they shot towards the Shadow Pavilion leader's men. The icicles whistled as they flew, like the roar of an ice spirit, the sound like the whistling of a biting cold wind. She constantly altered her seals, and the shape and direction of the icicles changed accordingly. Some icicles shot towards the enemy's legs, attempting to restrict their movement, like icy shackles, wrapping around the enemy's legs; others shot towards the enemy's head, attempting to deliver a fatal blow, like a deadly hidden weapon, swiftly shooting towards the enemy's head.