The torrential rain poured incessantly, and soon there was half a meter of standing water on the streets.
The black market was thrown into utter chaos.
Some cultivators reacted quickly. Lacking the means to combat the disaster, they simply retreated outside the black market to avoid being swept into the danger.
Waves lashed against one side of the Qinghong Flower Tower, seeping rainwater through the cracks in its doors and windows.
The temperature inside the shop abruptly dropped to freezing. The walls were coated with a layer of frost, and the candles flickering on the tables became faint and ghostly.
As Li Mo stood in a daze, the flower tower suddenly began trembling, and the aura of the magical artifact it emanated grew even more intense.
The flower tower must be an Eight Refinements mid-grade magical artifact, with main spiritual materials of considerable value.
Futu Hermit watched the scene outside with a grim expression, then reminded, "Li Mo, come to the second floor quickly; the main hall is not very safe."
Li Mo took the stairs two steps at a time, entering a well-furnished area equipped with a magical furnace to maintain a comfortable temperature.
Each section faced a window, providing a clear view of the outside.
Han Cai let out a strange laugh. His eight arms continuously elongated, extending his body outward through the window as they sensed the upheaval in the water attribute spiritual energy.
He couldn’t help but sigh. "I really wonder what realm the cultivator hosting this auction has reached. They’re likely at least at the Core Formation level, or perhaps even further, having achieved the Uncertainty Nascent Soul stage."
Li Mo raised an eyebrow—it turned out that in later eras, the Nascent Soul stage would be called "Uncertainty."
As soon as Futu Hermit spoke, an explosion erupted from beneath the flower tower. The building actually broke free from its earthly constraints and floated on the water like a ship.
Inside, it swayed violently, resembling a sailboat chasing a storm on the high seas.
Li Mo stumbled, but fortunately, he used the Desert Map to catch hold of a beam, preventing himself from falling.
Rainwater had already accumulated to over ten meters deep. The various shops employed similar methods, maneuvering their structures, which were also magical artifacts, to withstand the disaster brought on by the auction.
The formation that enveloped the Heart Beast Black Market began to fail. The black mist, which had blocked vision and sound, showed signs of dispersing.
Li Mo couldn’t help but ask, "Is it always during the annual auctions?"
Futu Hermit explained, "Not always. Fifty years ago, the auction turned the black market into the mouth of an erupting volcano. Half the cultivators were killed or seriously injured in an instant. Compared to that, this is much gentler."
Li Mo was a bit puzzled.
Could it be that the forces behind the black market were using these disasters to first weed out weaker cultivators?
Han Cai collected some rainwater and climbed back into the shop. "This is just the start; we’re barely at the opening act."
As the floodwaters grew deeper, the black market took on an increasingly eerie vibe.
Li Mo squinted his eyes and vaguely saw two or three-meter-long dark shapes swimming in the water. Their presence drew terrified cries from the surrounding cultivators.
The dark shapes appeared to be amalgamations of numerous corpses—dozens of arms shaped into fins, with tails connected to dense clusters of human heads.
A cultivator cried for help as their swollen right arm transformed into the upper body of a Mountain Demon, trying in vain to fend off the approaching shadow.
In a flash, the shadow attacked. The cultivator was dragged underwater with no chance to resist.
Witnessing this, many cultivators scrambled onto shop rooftops, hoping to use higher ground to escape the assaults of the underwater creatures.
The cultivators inside the shops reacted without hesitation.
Having earned a spot in these shops, their strength far surpassed that of loose cultivators. Working together briefly, they turned the air thick with the scent of blood.
Chunks of flesh rolled off the rooftops, while the rain washed the bloody residue from the tiles. The brutal truth hidden within the auction was fully revealed.
Thankfully, most cultivators had come prepared in advance.
Small boats floated on the water’s surface, protected by magical artifacts, making sudden monster attacks less of a concern—though fear still lingered on their faces.
Others maneuvered magical artifacts to hover mid-air. However, such artifacts consumed significant spiritual power, and only the cultivators themselves knew how long they could sustain it.
Steward Hu lazily glanced out the window at a few cultivators seeking refuge on the flower tower’s roof.
She covered her mouth and laughed. "Li Mo, surely a handful of pests isn’t enough to trouble us?"
Li Mo nodded helplessly in agreement, then climbed out the window, standing atop the rain-soaked roof of the flower tower. His footsteps echoed crisply.
As soon as he emerged, he felt several blazing gazes lock onto him.
The surrounding cultivators, wary of one another, all focused on Li Mo, a single thought arising unbidden in their minds: Kill him.
Each shop could typically accommodate only four or five cultivators. If Li Mo were to die, that would free up a spot. Who wouldn’t want the chance?
A sizable number of cultivators had their eyes set on Qinghong Flower Tower. They wondered why Futu Hermit had chosen such an unknown young cultivator.
Li Mo narrowed his gaze, observing the cultivators gradually closing in on him.
Their group was a chaotic mix, though there were definitely some deliberately approaching Qinghong Flower Tower. After all, obtaining a spot in the shops involved tremendous benefit and intrigue.
A young man with a fox-shaped mask stepped forward from the crowd, folding a fan in his beast-like claws. He bowed toward the shop, earning uneasy glances from the other cultivators around him.
"If I’ve disturbed the three seniors, I, Wang Lizhen, would gladly die a thousand deaths to atone."
He paid no mind to Li Mo, naturally revealing his Four-layered Puberty Stage cultivation. Moreover, his spiritual power seemed pure, clearly indicating he was not of loose cultivator origins.
"My master is Grandmaster Taoist. He shared drinks with Senior Futu not long ago and wanted me to come to Qinghong Flower Tower to offer my humble service."
Wang Lizhen chattered on incessantly, oblivious to the faint look of pity in the eyes of Futu Hermit and the other two.
Li Mo stepped within ten meters of Wang Lizhen, the Desert Map flapping crisply in the wind.
Wang Lizhen turned his head, a faintly mocking smile on his lips. "Fellow Daoist, your spiritual power is indeed exceptional. Possessing such cultivation at your age is impressive, but unfortunately..."
Though his words outwardly carried a tone of warmth, his demeanor was patronizing, as though instructing a junior. Every action betrayed his disinterest in taking Li Mo seriously.
When Li Mo still stood his ground, unmoving, Wang Lizhen’s irritation spiked.
He extended his left hand. Hidden claw tips, laced with spiritual power, would surely inflict severe harm on Li Mo if they made contact.
Han Cai couldn’t hold back his eerie laugh, dozens of small spiders spilling from his mouth.
Wang Lizhen suddenly felt a massive force slam into his chest.
He saw a fiery Red Fox manifest atop the roof. Raindrops evaporated into a dense mist upon contact, creating a terrifying atmosphere.
The Red Fox clamped its jaws around Wang Lizhen’s body, biting off his head before he could react.
Wang Lizhen’s severed head retained its consciousness, helplessly watching its body fall into the waters below, before his awareness was consumed by eternal darkness.
Li Mo had too many matters to attend to; he couldn’t waste time on insignificant foes.
Hui Qingyi was pushed to its limits. Empowered by Li Mo’s immense spiritual power, the Red Fox grew beyond its seven-meter boundary, stopping only when it reached nearly nine meters.
A single fox cry rang out.
Raindrops shot out like arrows released from a bowstring.
Loose cultivators, faced with the choice of confronting Li Mo or braving the underwater beasts, scrambled away from Qinghong Flower Tower in utter panic.
Han Cai murmured to himself, "Is it a Taoist Body?"
"The Yang Yuan Ben Jing could never achieve such results. It must undoubtedly be an innate Taoist Body."
Futu Hermit spoke with certainty. "It should be... a leakless body?!!"