Fang Jit hadn't lied—the first stretch of the Yin-Yang Venomgulf was deceptively simple: a flat expanse of mountain stone, steady enough for a mortal to cross with care, never mind elite cultivators like them. But that illusion shattered moments later. After threading through a series of jagged cliff ravines, the path plunged downward into a monstrous valley, its depths devoured by an impenetrable shroud of shadow.
There, a frail ridge—no wider than an inch—stretched across the chasm like a taut, brittle thread. Beneath it yawned an abyss so black that even the twin orbs blazing overhead—one cyan, one crimson—couldn't pierce its void. The darkness gaped like the maw of some colossal, unseen demon, its hunger a palpable weight pulling at their souls. The ridge itself teetered, a fragile lifeline strung over an oblivion that seemed to whisper promises of doom. To the left, a frozen orb howled from the mid-air, exhaling gusts of frost that raked at their flesh with icy talons. To the right, a furnace of flame roared from sky, its searing bellows scorching the air until it shimmered with heat.
High above, the twin orbs waged a primal, unending battle, their forces clashing in a fierce stalemate. Perhaps because they'd drawn closer to the orbs, where their powers collided most intensely, the mutual annihilation dulled their rage. Here, the chill and heat weren't as ferocious as before.
The exposed rocks flanking the ridge bore the scars: on the left, thin sheets of ice glazed the stone in ghostly veils, glinting like the breath of the dead; on the right, heat twisted the air into rippling mirages, as if the rocks themselves melted under an invisible blaze.
Just feet beneath both sides of the narrow ridge, a thick, multi-colored miasma churned, a swirling veil of venomous hues that cloaked the valley's depths. The scenery below dissolved into obscurity. A ceaseless, indescribable rustling rose from the abyss, like a sinister chorus of countless venomous insects and serpents slithering and scuttling across mountain woods and stones. It was a dense cacophony—like countless spring silkworms gnawing leaves, but amplified a thousandfold; like snakes and insects wandering, sound's dense, unending, chilling the spine.
"Be careful." Even Oen Shinae's voice carried an edge of unease as they reached the ridge. Her eyes sharpened with rare focus, flicking toward Lordi Payne with a grim warning before she turned and followed Fang Jit onto the knife-thin path.
Lordi Payne's face drained of color, his breath catching in his throat. He hesitated, a shiver crawling up his spine, then forced himself forward, stepping onto the ridge with the caution of a man treading over a grave.
The narrow spine of stone wasn't just razor-thin—it felt alive with malice. From the valleys below, unholy winds shrieked upward, sporadic and vicious. First came freezing gusts, sharp as spectral claws, slashing at his flesh with a chill that whispered of death. Then scalding blasts roared up, reeking of sulfur and ruin, blistering the air and searing his skin raw.
If Lordi Payne hadn't clawed his way to the fifth layer of Qi Refinement, he'd have crumpled within steps, his body too frail to endure the relentless assault. Even a Foundation Stage cultivator would recoil from this cursed place, desperate to flee its grasp. Fang Jit and Oen Shinae, their figures taut with urgency, surged ahead, their paces a blur against the eerie glow of the twin orbs.
In moments, they'd crossed most of the deep valley, swallowed by the shadows ahead.
Lordi Payne, cursed with his weaker cultivation, lagged behind, each step a battle against the trembling ridge and the howling void. Sharky Ink trailed him, offering no words, no push. Still, the creeping dread spurred Lordi Payne to quicken his pace.
Soon, Fang Jit and Oen Shinae stepped onto the solid ground across on the other side.
At this moment, Lordi Payne squinted his eyes slightly and suddenly leapt headfirst down into the gulf below!
In the dark shadow at a distance, there was a sudden fluctuation of spiritual power like a ripple.
At the same time, Sharky Ink was hesitating whether to take the opportunity to poise to strike, but he saw Lordi Payne suddenly fall into the venomgulf, face froze as seeing Lordi Payne plunged—glee flashed across his face. Then, Lordi Payne's desperate cry cut through!
"Senior Brother Sharky, why?!"
Heard the cry, Sharky Ink was startled when he heard the voice, and his face showed surprise, thus, it made him looked both surprised and delight.
The next moment, Oen Shinae and Fang Jit turned their heads when they heard the voice, just in time to see the whole scene.
"Sharky Ink?!" Oen Shinae's pupils shrank, her fury igniting!
And Fang Jit was also extremely gaped and at a loss.
Just as Oen Shinae tugged the chain that bound the black coffin on her back and ready to dive into the venomgulf to save Lordi Payne, a blood-red blur erupted from the beneath of the ridge, and after a few rises and falls, it landed beside to Oen Shinae's side. The blood light dissipated, and a figure appeared, which was Lordi Payne who face was still in great shock.
Blood Spectre Footwork Art!
The distant spiritual power fluctuations in the dark shadow dissipated in an instant, and the three inner disciples were all jolted.
As one of the deadzone areas in the Gworm Abyss, the Yin-Yang Venomgulf was a place that muted most footwork art or escape techniques, so they trekked cautiously all along the way and did not dare to use their cultivated footwork art to hurry on. Yet, the Blood Spectre Footwork Art as one of the prerequisite martial arts for the Five Spectres Heaven Hell Evasion Footwork, which is Extraordinarily miraculous, and it's not restricted by this deadzone place.
The question in their mind is that Lordi Payne is a mere fifth layer Qi Refinement novice, how could he master this footwork technique?
"Senior Sister Oen, I don't know why Senior Brother Sharky suddenly pushed me down just now!" Lordi Payne gasped before she could speak, his voice trembling with accusation, "If I didn't learned any footwork art, I'm afraid Senior Sister wouldn't even be able to find my corpse."
"Bullshit!" Sharky Ink snapped, reeling from the sudden twist. His honest facade cracked, a snarl twisting his lips. "I didn't lay a finger on you—you jumped yourself!"
Lordi Payne's eyes flared with righteous fury. "Lying through your teeth, Senior Brother! My cultivation's pitifully low—I've only survived this far thanks to Senior Sister and you all. Why would I dare step out of path? This is our first meeting—no grudge, no reason for me to throw my life away framing you!"
He then turned to Oen Shinae, voice steadying but edged with desperation. "Senior Sister, I know Sharky Ink's one of your squad. I'm just an outside newcomer, nowhere near strong enough to break your bond. I wouldn't dare point fingers without proof. But forgive me—after this, if you won't stand by me, I can't keep going with you."
"Senior Sister Oen, this runt's is spewing lies!" Hearing this, Sharky Ink almost vomited blood. A sinister look appeared on her honest face. He bristled in a cold voice, "If I wanted him dead, he'd be gone—no chance to scamper back. He's scheming, trying to tear us apart!"
Lordi Payne immediately fired back, unwavering "I trust Senior Sister Oen! If she hadn't rescued me from Lurewoven Grove, I'd already be dead. Her word is law—if she says I'm lying, that I'm framing Sharky Ink, I'll take her punishment, no questions asked."
As he spoke, Lordi Payne's hand secretly tightened around the Hundred-Mile Escape Dao Fulu from Wexford Kimson, his pulse racing. If Oen Shinae's demeanor shifted to menace, he'd bolt without a second thought.
Oen Shinae's eyes cut between them like a blade, cold and unyielding. Fang Jit's gaze flickered nervously, darting from one to the other.
Then, without warning, Oen Shinae thrust her hand toward the black coffin strapped to her back. The air grew heavy, a shiver rippling through the stillness.
An eerie tableau unfolded.
As her slender, corpse-pale hand brushed the coffin's surface, it sank through as if the wood were mist—no crack, no resistance, just a silent violation of reality. Moments later, she drew forth a translucent, death-white flower-branch. It pulsed faintly, its ghostly petals shimmering with an unnatural sheen, like something plucked from the underworld itself.
Fang Jit and Sharky Ink paled instantly, their faces drained of blood. Lordi Payne didn't recognize the thing, but the raw dread etched into his senior brothers' expressions screamed peril. His grip on the Dao Fulu tightened, muscles tensing for flee.
Oen Shinae flicked her wrist, sending a pulse of spiritual force to roll the branch toward Sharky Ink. Her voice was flat, devoid of warmth. "Back in Lurewoven Grove, you sent me the wrong direction. Now Junior Brother Payne falls into the Venomgulf, and the fault's yours. If you're truly innocent, I'll cancel the Bone Bloom Curse once we claim the Ice Pith Fire."
Sharky Ink stared at the flower-branch hovering before him, his face ashen, eye muscles twitching uncontrollably. Cold sweat streaked down his forehead, glistening in the dim light of twin orbs. After a strained silence, he forced words through gritted teeth. "Senior Sister Oen, years of life-and-death together—and you pick this filthy snake over me?"
"Wrong," Oen Shinae said, her tone icy and unshaken. "If I didn't trust you, I'd have smashed you with a palm strike and fed you to the Venomgulf already. The Deathveil Bloodline's hanging by a thread these days, and your actions reek of betrayal. The Bone Bloom Curse ensures we all move forward without doubt—agreed?"
Sharky Ink's jaw clenched, his cheeks trembling. His unease was palpable, a cornered animal's dread seeping from every pore.
Fang Jit, watching, faltered. "Senior Sister, maybe Sharky Ink was just messing around—trying to spook him..."
Before he could finish, Oen Shinae's gaze snapped to him, sharp as a guillotine's edge. "What? Are you in on some plot to kill Junior Brother Payne too?"
"No, no, would never!" Fang Jit's voice cracked as her hand twitched toward the coffin again, poised to draw another cursed branch. Panic seized him, and he shook his head frantically. "S-sorry, Senior Sister! My mistake—mouth ran away from me!"
Sharky Ink stood drenched in sweat, pouring down his face like a storm of fear, his eyes locked on the Bone Bloom flower hovering before him. He even felt the narrow ridge trembled beneath his feet, a frail thread swaying over the Venomgulf's gaping maw. The Bone Bloom pulsed faintly, its death-white petals glistening with a sickly sheen, as if plucked from a crypt's deepest rot.
After an agonizing silence, with Oen Shinae's unyielding stare bore into him, Sharky Ink let out a ragged, broken laugh, his voice cracking with despair. "Senior Sister, you'd stake your faith on this fucking worm over me? After all we've bled through together? I can't stomach it!"
With a shuddering breath, he steeled himself, slammed his eyes shut, and seized the flower-branch.
The instant it grazed his palm, a nightmare unfurled. The branch writhed, dissolving into a serpentine chain of jagged white bones—ghastly, alive, and ravenous. It coiled around Sharky Ink's body with a sickening snap, slithering like a living noose before plunging into his flesh. A chorus of cracks erupted, sharp, wet, and relentless. Lordi Payne's stomach churned as he watched countless bone-spikes erupt from beneath Sharky Ink's skin, piercing outward in a grotesque frenzy. The white, snake-like tendrils twisted and stabbed, shredding muscle and sinew, each puncture blooming into brittle, death-gray branches that withered in the air. Blood sprayed in arcs, staining the ridge, until the bones wove a macabre tapestry behind him. Slowly, they blossomed into a towering, translucent pale flower, before melting into his broken frame, leaving him a hollowed husk.
Sharky Ink's screams clawed the air, shrill and unhinged, echoing off the chasm. Yet, even as the torment shredded his body, his Foundation Stage cultivation will held firm—his legs rooted to the ridge, unwavering.
When the spectral flower faded, Sharky Ink swayed like a corpse caught in a gale, his breath a ragged wheeze. Minutes dragged like hours before he lurched forward, staggering toward the trio on the far side. His ravaged body hit solid ground with a dull thud, and his head snapped up—not toward Oen Shinae, who'd unleashed this horror, but to Lordi Payne. His eyes burned with a venomous, unspoken promise, hatred dripping from every ragged gasp.
Oen Shinae loomed behind Lordi Payne, her presence a shield of cold steel.
Emboldened, Lordi Payne met Sharky Ink's glare and smirked inwardly. "That's your worst?" he thought. "You think your little scheme of spite can touch me? Compared to the AwfulOS system's reckless malice, your pathetic scheme's a child's tantrum."