Chapter 36: Tremor

After approximately half a day of recovery and the consumption of two spirit stones, Cao Yun’s mana was once again replenished. He remained seated cross-legged within this mysterious space, silently observing his surroundings.

Before long, Cao Yun flickered his hand, sending a Fireball spell flying outward. The light of the flames instantly illuminated the void, shooting into the distance before bursting and dissipating into the emptiness of the space.

Cao Yun sighed helplessly. He had no choice but to begin cultivating Qi, just as he had when he first entered this realm.

Time slipped away, and after an indeterminate period, Cao Yun slowly opened his eyes. At his current level of cultivation, it was nearly impossible to achieve any further progress through meditation alone. He shook his head in resignation; his aptitude as a "trash spirit root" was truly well-deserved.

Just as Cao Yun was sighing in frustration, a flash of inspiration struck him. He slapped his storage pouch, and a blood-red short blade appeared in his hand. He opened his palm and drew the edge lightly across his skin. Sure enough, no blood flowed from the wound.

This phenomenon pushed the contradictions of this place to a deeper level.

Cao Yun began to sort through his thoughts: First, when he was in this space, he felt hunger. Second, food from the real world that he consumed here would disappear from his inventory.

Yet, the contradictions remained: First, when he returned to the real world, there was no noticeable passage of time; he did not know exactly how long he had been gone, but it certainly could not have been long. He could consume real food while feeling hunger here, but upon returning to reality, the outside world seemed unchanged.

Second, in this space, hunger made him weak, and without food, he could potentially die. Upon returning to the real world, the hunger persisted, as did the state of his mana, which required replenishment after being exhausted.

If that were the case, he speculated that perhaps only he himself had entered this mysterious space. There was no concept of time or space here; it seemed that only he existed. However, when he drew the blade across his palm, he found that he did not seem to exist in this space either. This left Cao Yun feeling utterly bewildered.

If he did not exist in this space, why did he feel hunger? And how could he consume food that existed in reality? This extreme contradiction left Cao Yun unable to find an answer, and an unusual sense of stifling frustration echoed in his chest.

Cao Yun exhaled a long, heavy breath and pushed his divine sense to its absolute limit. Suddenly, an astonishing image emerged in his mind.

Within his sea of consciousness, a colossal demonic figure, ten thousand zhang tall, stood firm, appearing as if it might burst the entire space apart. The sheer scale of this form was beyond words. It was like a towering mountain, or perhaps a vast expanse of the firmament, making anyone who gazed upon it feel as insignificant as dust.

The demonic form was knotted with muscles that looked as though they were forged from steel, each containing infinite power. Its skin was covered in mysterious patterns that flickered with a dark, dim light, seemingly imbued with ancient runes and monstrous, surging demonic energy.

Those terrifying eyes were as deep as an abyss, capable of swallowing all light. Simply standing there, the figure exuded an endless sense of majesty and power.

If not for the omniscient perspective granted by his divine sense, Cao Yun would never have been able to glimpse even a corner of this massive form. It was too vast, too majestic, as if it transcended the limits of this world.

However, as Cao Yun observed intently, those terrifying eyes suddenly snapped open. A gaze filled with the carnage of a Shura hell and overwhelming malice appeared within his consciousness. Merely witnessing this opening of the eyes caused Cao Yun’s spirit to tremble; he felt enveloped by a boundless killing intent, unable to breathe or think. Yet, with a sudden flash of light from those eyes, Cao Yun snapped back to reality from his sea of consciousness.

At that moment, three blood-red characters appeared in his mind: "Killing Intent Art." Immediately following this, rows of dense, tiny text emerged beneath them.

As Cao Yun delved into the "Killing Intent Art," his heart was struck by a powerful sense of shock. This technique allowed him to condense his killing intent into threads, which could then be unleashed through his divine sense. Once within the range of his perception, no opponent could escape its strike. The power of these threads of killing intent left him ecstatic; once formed, they were sufficient to slay a cultivator of the same rank in an instant, and even against higher-ranked cultivators, they could inflict grave damage to the soul before the enemy could even prepare a defense.

A surge of wild joy erupted in Cao Yun’s heart. He closed his eyes, centered his mind, and began to study the technique with all his might.

Time flowed like water, slipping away quietly—a phrase that seemed to lose its meaning here. Cao Yun sat cross-legged in the mysterious space, as rooted as an ancient tree, as if he had become one with this eternal realm.

When Cao Yun finally opened his eyes again, two blood-red threads flickered within his pupils like flashes of lightning. He sensed that he was about to return from this mysterious space to the real world.

He closed his eyes once more.

In an instant, when he opened them again, he found himself still hovering in the air. Below, Qiu Ji was holding his shield, his legs deeply embedded into the bluestone floor.

Cao Yun flashed forward, transforming into a streak of light that circled behind Qiu Ji. The "Fiery Mother-and-Son Nails" turned into a trail of brilliant flame, instantly plunging into Qiu Ji's body. A series of dull, popping sounds erupted from within Qiu Ji, and the shield he held aloft fell to the ground with a loud "clang."

Blood began to spill from Qiu Ji's eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. A row of fire erupted from the top of his head, shattering his skull with a "bang" and leaving a shocking, gaping hole.

At that moment, a red light shot from between Cao Yun’s brows, striking Qiu Ji’s body. Qiu Ji’s essence soul was instantly forced out, letting out a terrified shriek before being swept up by the red light and vanishing into the space between Cao Yun’s brows.

At this moment, both the cultivators on the white jade stands and the disciples of the various sects below wore expressions of shock and horror. It was as if no one dared to even breathe; the surroundings were so silent that the sounds of battles on other arenas could be clearly heard. After glancing around, Cao Yun transformed into a streak of light and sped toward his guest peak.

All eyes remained fixed on the direction in which Cao Yun had vanished. Even after his figure was long gone, the people remained immersed in the shock of what they had just witnessed. Suddenly, someone from the crowd shouted, "A devil! That man is a devil!" This was followed by the screams and weeping of female cultivators.

As members of a demonic sect, scenes of slaughter were not uncommon, but for some, it was their first time witnessing such a cruel method of killing—the extraction of a soul through murder. The mere thought of it made their spirits shudder, and they felt an instinctive urge to flee from such a man.