The Blade-Wielding Legend

The only way to survive seems to be to continue venturing deeper into these unknown ruins.

"Fatty Lin, where are we?" Li Yan asked gravely.

Fatty Lin pointed deeper into the cluster of stone towers, where the fog was thicker: "Still inside! Not too far away."

The group exchanged glances, having no other choice but to cautiously move forward, threading through the gaps between the stone towers toward the depths of the fog.

The ground beneath their feet was no longer a sandy beach but hard black rocks, covered in cracked patterns, with ghostly blue ice crystals forming in the crevices.

The air became increasingly cold and humid, as the smell of rust and dust was gradually infused with a faint and elusive scent... of medicine.

After walking for about half a stick of incense’s time, the fog ahead suddenly thinned, revealing a relatively open area.

It was a sizable pond, the pool water ominously dark black, its surface calm yet exuding a bone-chilling evil qi.

Around the pond were strewn some remnants of grass huts that had long since collapsed and decayed, covered in thick layers of dust and frost.

Some broken pill furnaces, toppled medicine racks, and shattered pieces of jade bottles and porcelain jars lay half-buried in the ruins, their styles still faintly discernable.

The group hurriedly stepped in for a closer inspection.

Wang Daoxuan picked up a jade bottle filled with cracks, with a bit of long-dried, blackened residue at the bottom. He sniffed it and rubbed it between his fingers, shaking his head: "The medicinal properties are completely lost, spiritual charm dissipated, this is at least several hundred years old."

Kong Shangzhao kicked open the lid of a toppled pill furnace. Inside was empty, its walls lined with thick layers of ash.

"It seems we weren’t the only ones who have been here," Kong Shangzhao surveyed the ruins, "These pill furnaces and medicine bottles, styles vary between ancient and recent, as if left by cultivators from different eras. They, too, sought refuge here and even attempted alchemy and cultivation."

"But they all failed, or... met with misfortune."

Li Yan said gravely, pointing to the collapsed grass huts and scattered items, "Look at these traces; when they left, they were rushed, leaving many things behind or uncollected. Who knows what happened here."

This inference added an extra chill to the already eerie environment.

What was the fate of those cultivators seeking fortune or shelter here? Did they end up like them, surrounded by beasts, eventually buried here?

Or did they encounter something more terrifying than beast hordes?

With heavy hearts, the group found a relatively dry and sheltered spot by the pond, leaning against the half-collapsed remnants of a stone tower to rest.

Wu Ba and Sha Lifei took advantage of the time to check their dwindling supplies of weapons and ammunition. Wang Daoxuan handed out a few elixirs for nurturing qi and blood, especially to the weakened Night Crying Man.

However, the rest did not bring hope.

Looking through the gaps between the stone towers, the group despairingly realized that not only had the beast horde not dispersed but was gathering more densely, becoming increasingly varied.

Ice Giant Bears, Multi-eyed Giant Lizards, Bone-spine Ice Wolves, Birds with stunning wingspan... densely packed, encircling the stone tower area like an iron barrel.

Low growls and piercing screeches arose one after another.

Time passed by bit by bit, the elixirs could only offer temporary relief, and the weapons were bound to run out eventually, with the key problem being that food was scarce after the ship sank.

Waiting for death was the only path.

Li Yan’s gaze finally turned toward the black pool emitting the chilling evil qi.

The source of the "treasure aura" indicated by Fatty Lin was beneath this abyss!

"There’s no other way."

Li Yan’s voice broke the dead silence. He stood up, walked to the pond’s edge, and stared at the ink-like pool water.

"Wait here, I’m going down to investigate!"

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