From a loser to an immortal sage

Chapter 518 Entering the Secret Realm for the First Time

At 3:45 AM the next day, I stood in the center of the teleportation array, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the old wound on my wrist.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the broken half of the Xuan Tie Hall token was still pressed at the bottom of my storage bag—last night, Wen Chen searched through all the sect's records and confirmed that the masked man was indeed Xue Sha, who had been expelled from the sect a hundred years ago.

The Soul-Eating Sword he cultivated contained the souls of thirty-six female cultivators. Yesterday's battle in the arena was merely a test. His parting words, "See you in the Immortal Realm," sent chills down my spine.

“Fairy Xiao, the time has come.” The ethereal immortal’s voice was like being immersed in a cold pool. I looked up and saw that his white eyebrows were slightly raised, and his fingers under his Taoist robe were forming the Big Dipper incantation.

The patterns on the teleportation array began to glow with a bluish light. Wen Chen had somehow appeared to my left, his long black sleeves brushing against the back of my hand—his signature soothing gesture.

I turned my head and saw Zi Ling clutching her Embroidered Spring Knife, the silver thread on the scabbard gleaming in the morning light; Elder Qingfeng stroked his long beard, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the twelve people in the group, finally stopping at the ebony hairpin at my waist, and he nodded slightly.

"Grip your magical artifact tightly." I lowered my voice, and spiritual energy spread to everyone's ears through the telepathic transmission.

Wen Chen's hand gently protected my lower back; it was an unspoken understanding we had developed on the battlefield—he protected my back while I looked ahead.

A bluish light suddenly shone brightly.

When I could see again, a sweet, refreshing scent filled my nose, like morning dew soaked in honey.

I squinted and looked out. The mist was dispersing from my feet, revealing a large patch of pale purple daylilies. Dewdrops clung to the flower stems, each drop shimmering with tiny, ethereal light.

In the distance, verdant mountains loomed in and out of sight, their peaks shrouded in snow, while fiery red spider lilies bloomed at their base. The contrast of these two colors created a scene even more beautiful than a fairyland in a picture book.

"Watch out!" Zi Ling's startled shout pierced the morning mist.

I instinctively spun around and saw the forget-me-not at my feet suddenly twist and turn, its flower stem growing into a black vine as thick as a wrist, covered with barbs, coiling like a snake toward the youngest disciple, A-Zhu, who was at the end of the group.

A-Zhu's green robe was caught on the vines. In his panic, he swung his wooden sword, only to see the black vine hiss and climb up his arm along the sword.

His face turned pale instantly, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead—his spiritual energy had been drained!

"Shadow Vine!" Elder Qingfeng's voice trembled with shock. He flicked his hand and scattered seven bronze mirrors, their light forming a barrier.

But the black vines surged in from all directions, the ground cracked open with spiderweb-like fissures, and more vines shot out like venomous snakes, wrapping around the ankles of three or four disciples in the blink of an eye.

Wen Chen's sword was drawn with a clang, and Yu Hengfeng's "Starry Night" sword technique was unleashed. Each strike brought a biting wind, severing the vines that were wrapped around my waist.

I took out the ebony hairpin, about to make a hand seal, when I saw that A-Zhu's wooden sword suddenly emitted a burnt smell—his spiritual power was being absorbed too quickly, and even his magical artifact was about to collapse.

"Form the Three Talents Formation!" Elder Qingfeng's bronze mirror cracked from the impact of the vines. He coughed, and three fire talismans flew out from his sleeve.

The fire talisman ignited upon contact with the wind, and the rising flames caused the nearby vines to shrink back. However, there were too many shadow vines, and as soon as one flame burned off, three new ones sprouted from the ground.

Zi Ling's embroidered spring knife struck the vines, the vibrations making her hands go numb: "Fairy Xiao, the more I cut, the more of these things appear!"

I bit my lip and took a half step back to avoid the vines that were wrapping around my knees.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that where Wen Chen's sword energy swept, the vines were severed, but black blood seeped from the cut surfaces. The blood dripped onto the ground and actually spurred the growth of new vines.

A-Zhu's breathing grew weaker and weaker. His wooden sword fell to the ground with a "clang," and he collapsed into the vines, his face as white as paper.

"Wen Chen, protect the middle!" I pulled off the fire jade pendant from my waist. It was a gift from Wen Chen, which he found in the far north last year. I had intended to keep it for alchemy, but now it was burning hot to the touch.

Spiritual energy was injected into the fire jade, and a crimson ball of light exploded in the palm of the hand, burning the vines wrapped around Azhu's body.

The vines shrieked as they came into contact with the fire, tightening their grip but also loosening it slightly—my pupils constricted as I saw the tips of the vines closest to the flames charring at a visible speed.

"Use fire magic!" I shouted to the team, while simultaneously unleashing three fire talismans.

Zi Ling reacted the fastest. She kicked aside the vines at her feet, took out a pair of copper bells from her storage bag, and sparks flew when she rang them. Elder Qingfeng's bronze mirror suddenly turned reddish gold, and two fireballs leaped out of the mirror, hitting the densest part of the vines with precision.

The vines scorched by the fire did indeed retreat, but large swathes of vines still avoided the flames and wrapped around the disciples standing at the foot of the formation.

"And lightning!" Wen Chen's sword suddenly glowed blue. He thrust the sword into the ground with a backhand motion. Lightning slashed into the soil along the sword's blade. The vines struck by the lightning instantly curled into black charcoal, and even the underground roots emitted blue smoke.

As I stared at the charred vines, my heart suddenly raced—the vines hadn't sprouted again from the spot where the lightning had struck.

"Get back together!" I grabbed A-Zhu's wrist, placed the fire jade against his back, and channeled spiritual energy to help stabilize his heart.

Wen Chen's sword formed a protective net of interwoven lightning and fire, and Zi Ling and Elder Qing Feng led their disciples toward the center.

The shadow vines continued to surge forward, but they could no longer break through the area of ​​lightning and fire.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked at the ever-approaching vines. Suddenly, I remembered what Xue Sha had said yesterday: "See you in the fairyland"—this shadow vine might not be the first obstacle he had set up.

The wind suddenly picked up, carrying with it a faint, almost imperceptible laugh.

I looked up at the misty mountain peaks, where the red spider lilies swayed in the wind, looking just like countless bloody hands beckoning.

Wen Chen's sword drew an arc beside me, blocking the last vine that was wrapping around me.

He turned to look at me, his eyes questioning. I shook my head at him—now is not the time to let my guard down.

The mountain wind, carrying the stench of blood, wafted into my nostrils. I stared at the charred vines at my feet, my fingers unconsciously stroking the fire jade.

The vines instinctively retreated the instant the lightning swept across... perhaps, this was the key to breaking the deadlock.

I stared at the charred ends of the vines at my feet; the places scorched by lightning were still sizzling and emitting blue smoke.

When Wen Chen's lightning struck, the extent to which the Shadow Vine's roots curled up in the soil was not a normal act of seeking advantage and avoiding harm, but rather resembled an instinctive fear.

My throat bobbed. The fire jade on my fingertips still retained the warmth of A-Zhu's heart. He had almost been drained dry just now and was now leaning against Zi-Ling's chest, panting with pale lips.

"Fairy Xiao!" Zi Ling's embroidered spring knife struck the vines at my feet, jolting me back to my senses.

Beads of sweat rolled down her temples, tracing the lengths of her earrings, while dark brown vine sap dripped from the tip of her knife. "These things are getting more and more frustrating. If this continues, my spiritual energy will be completely depleted!"

I grabbed Wen Chen's wrist with my other hand; the thin calluses on his palms hurt me—the result of years of wielding a sword. "Wen Chen, how wide was the area covered by your 'Thunderous Fall and Starfall' move?" I looked up at him; his eyebrows rose slightly, and a knowing glint appeared in his eyes: "Within ten feet of me, there are no blind spots."

“Ziling,” I turned to her, “how many fire talismans do you have left?”

"Twenty!" She immediately patted the bulging talisman pouch at her waist; the silver-thread embroidered twin lotus blossoms had several stitches snagged by the vines. "They're all yours!"

“Elder Qingfeng,” I said, looking at the old man who had been maintaining the bronze mirror barrier. Pale golden spiritual energy seeped from the cracks in the mirror, “Please lead your disciples to Wen Chen’s side. The aftershocks of the lightning and fire clash won’t harm anyone, but the Shadow Vine is afraid of that.”

Elder Qingfeng stroked his beard and nodded. Suddenly, the mirror light surged, sweeping the two stray disciples into the formation.

Wen Chen's sword hummed, shaking off the last few vines that had been binding him, and his long, dark sleeves billowed in the wind: "Yao Yao, I'll count to three."

“Three.” His voice was like a rock falling into a cold pool.

I crushed three fire talismans and slammed them on the ground. The moment the crimson flames rose, Zi Ling's Embroidered Spring Blade drew a semicircle, and the silver thread on the scabbard suddenly glowed red—it turned out that she had hidden the fire talismans in the lining of the scabbard!

Sparks shot up the silver thread to the tip of the blade, cleaving out a wall of fire over ten feet long.

"Two." Wen Chen's sword tip touched the ground, and the ground cracked open with a spiderweb-like blue light.

I took out the ebony hairpin, which my master gave me before he passed away, saying it could save my life in a critical moment.

At that moment, the sandalwood grain on the hairpin suddenly began to glow. I followed the light and made a hand seal, and spiritual energy surged into the hairpin like a living thing—it turned out that this was not an ordinary wooden hairpin, but a magic weapon with a thunder spirit root!

"one."

Wen Chen's sword pointed to the sky, and thunderclouds exploded overhead; my ebony hairpin pierced the ground, and lightning snakes darted wildly along the roots of the vines.

Zi Ling's wall of fire and Wen Chen's net of lightning collided in mid-air, bursting out with blinding white light.

The shrill cry of the Shadow Vine was so loud it hurt my eardrums. I saw the outermost vines limp as if their souls had been ripped out, black blood seeping into the soil, but no new vines sprouted.

"Retreat!" I grabbed Wen Chen's sleeve and ran towards the safe zone. Zi Ling carried A Zhu on her back, and Elder Qing Feng used his mirror light to support two disciples. As everyone stumbled and huddled together, the last wave of Shadow Vine was being devoured into ashes by lightning and fire.

The mountain breeze suddenly stopped, and the mist, which was wrapped in morning dew, dispersed completely.

I gasped for breath, supporting my knees, and looked up to be met with a blinding red—the red spider lilies on the cliff edge were blooming even more brightly, and in the center of the sea of ​​flowers stood a half-person-high blue stone tablet, its surface covered with worm-eaten runes, each line flowing with a ghostly blue light.

"The entrance marker to the ancient ruins." The ethereal immortal stood before the stone tablet, the silver threads on his robe gleaming coldly in the light. "Only those with pure spiritual roots can trigger it."

All eyes immediately turned to them.

A tightness gripped the back of my neck—I'm a transmigrator. The original owner of this body had no spiritual roots, but for the past six months, I've always felt a warm, comforting energy in my dantian while cultivating. Could it be...?

"Fairy Xiao," Elder Qingfeng's voice held a hint of expectation, "would you like to give it a try?"

I swallowed hard and reached out to touch the stone tablet.

The moment my fingertips touched the stone surface, a surge of electricity coursed up my arm, and the stone tablet suddenly emitted a clear ringing sound. The runes seemed to come alive as they swam toward my palm.

Wen Chen's hand gently protected my lower back, and I could hear his very soft breathing, as if he were saying, "Don't be afraid."

"boom--"

The stone tablet cracked open to reveal a blue light gate. The spiritual energy emanating from inside the gate was ten times stronger than that outside, mixed with the sweet and pungent smell of pine resin and soil.

I withdrew my hand, and there was a light blue rune imprinted on my palm, exactly the same as the one on the stone tablet.

"Good tactic."

A sinister laugh, shrouded in black mist, surged from behind the cliff.

The hairs on my body stood on end instantly—it was Blood Fiend!

He wore a black Taoist robe with red trim, his left cheek was wrapped with a bloodstained strip of cloth, his right eye gleamed with a sinister light like a snake's tongue, and he clutched a jade tablet shrouded in black mist in his hand.

"Do you think you can keep this secret place to yourself?"

Naive! He suddenly waved the jade tablet, causing the ground to shake violently. The red spider lilies were shaken to pieces, and the blue light gate on the stone tablet swayed.

I saw countless black scales emerging from the soil, like the scales of some giant beast, and a low, rumbling roar came from below the cliff, as if something was about to awaken.

Wen Chen's sword was already at my neck, the sword energy condensing into a tangible barrier; Zi Ling stuffed A Zhu into Elder Qing Feng's arms, the Embroidered Spring Blade was drawn three inches from its sheath, the tip pointing directly at Xue Sha; the ethereal immortal retreated to the side of the light gate, his fingers forming a hand seal in his sleeve, the shadow under his Taoist robe twisting eerily into a snake shape.

I stared at the jade tablet in Xue Sha's hand. I could vaguely see a woman's face in the black mist—it was the same batch of souls as those in his Soul-Eating Sword.

"Yao Yao," Wen Chen's voice was extremely low, "the portal is still open."

I turned to look at the blue light. Inside the door, I could vaguely see the eaves and brackets, like a palace shrouded in mist.

Suddenly, the Blood Fiend's jade tablet erupted with blinding black energy, and the ground trembled even more violently. I heard the sound of rocks tumbling down the cliff, mixed with the Blood Fiend's sinister laughter: "Go in, see what's inside—plenty of things that can take your lives!"

Zi Ling tugged at my sleeve; her palms were sweaty. "Fairy Xiao, shall we come in?"

I gazed at the floating spiritual energy within the portal, and then at the approaching figure of the Blood Fiend.

Wen Chen's sword drew an arc beside me, blocking the first wisp of black energy that rushed in.

“Go in.” I gritted my teeth, gripping the ebony hairpin tightly. “But everyone, hold onto your magical artifacts tightly—who knows what even more ruthless thing might be lurking behind that door.”

A clear, melodious bird song suddenly came from inside the portal, like a phoenix spreading its wings.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside first.

Wen Chen's dark, wide sleeves brushed against the back of my hand, bringing a unique sense of security; Zi Ling's embroidered spring knife brushed against my lower back, the silver thread on the scabbard still shimmering with sparks; Elder Qing Feng's mirror light enveloped A Zhu, the cracks on the mirror surface gleaming with golden light; the ethereal immortal entered last, his Taoist robe billowing in the wind, and I glimpsed a blue-patterned jade pendant hanging at his waist, identical to the one in my palm.

A bloodthirsty, shrill laugh came from behind, mixed with the rumbling of the ground cracking.

I glanced back and saw a gigantic hand covered in black scales emerge from the black mist, reaching for the portal—

"boom!"

The portal closed behind me, and in the last ray of light, I saw Wen Chen's sword pluck a black scale from the sky. Sparks flew onto the blue-patterned jade tablet, making his eyes shine with an astonishing brightness.