Stone Fang of the Great Luo Sword Sect exchanged a knowing glance with the wizened, diminutive elder. Then, with a sudden, unseen force, the elder reached out a grasping hand towards the valley’s edge. A white-robed disciple beside the maiden Qianqin cried out as he was seized by invisible tendrils, yanked against his will, and flung into the shadowed depths below.

The moment his body crossed the threshold into the valley, a cacophony of piercing screeches erupted, echoing through the air like tormented spirits. From within the valley’s undergrowth of withered leaves and tangled weeds, countless red dots, densely packed and unsettlingly vibrant, flickered into existence.

“Brother!” Qianqin cried, her body recoiling. She whirled towards the members of the Great Luo Sword Sect, her voice cracking with desperation. “Seniors, what is the meaning of this treachery?!”

Even as her words left her lips, the swarm of crimson specks surged forward, transforming into a crimson cloud that pulsed with a horrifying hum. They descended upon the unfortunate youth like a living tempest, their speed exceeding belief.

In the blink of an eye, the red swarm enveloped the white-robed disciple. Outside the valley, only the two Great Luo Sword Sect elders remained unmoved, their faces betraying nothing. A scene of dreadful horror unfolded before the eyes of the remaining witnesses.

The myriad red dots pierced through the youth’s robes, burrowing beneath his skin. Within three breaths, his pristine white garments were drenched in crimson.

Piercing, agonizing screams ripped from his throat. Driven mad by the torment, he clawed at his own flesh, leaving trails of blood in his wake. Deep gashes, exposing bone, marred his body.

He writhed and thrashed on the valley floor, his eyes reflecting a chilling blend of despair and unyielding hatred.

“Brother…” Qianqin whispered, her face etched with a pained smile.

Nearly every red dot within the valley had now emerged, relentlessly invading the body of the white-robed man. His eyes dimmed as his cries weakened, fading into pathetic whimpers.

The swiftness of the ordeal amplified its impact, leaving those who beheld it pale and shaken. Guo Xingyi gripped the hilt of his sword, a flicker of murderous intent in his gaze as he looked upon Qianqin.

“This day has unfolded because of me,” he muttered. “If Senior Qianqin had not died, we might have avoided this enmity. But now…”

The woman who addressed Guo Xingyi as ‘Eldest Brother’ covered her mouth, nearly retching. Her body trembled, deeply affected by the macabre spectacle.

Only the blue-robed man who fawned over Guo Xingyi seemed unaffected. His face betrayed no sign of distress; instead, a disturbing hint of fascination gleamed in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold within the valley.

Elder Stone Fang of the Great Luo Sword Sect smiled faintly at his diminutive companion. “It seems we need not spill any more blood. This one has already drawn the majority of the Jiu Li Worms into his vessel.”

The wizened elder chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “Stone, your restrictive techniques are perfectly suited for this place. Do not hold back. We must retrieve the Yao Golden Fruit and return to the Sword Sect.”

Stone Fang laughed heartily. Without another word, he retrieved a crimson jade slip from his storage pouch. Forming a sword with his fingers, he directed it towards the slip, chanting softly, “Sword-sealed Restriction! Open!”

The jade slip pulsed with a deep hum, then shot from his hand like a red meteor, plunging into the valley’s heart.

As it entered the valley, the humming intensified. Crimson threads streamed from the slip, then, with a resounding boom, the slip writhed unnaturally. Its transformation accelerated, and it seemed to melt, becoming countless slender crimson strands that spread out, racing towards the barely struggling white-robed man.

The strands moved with astonishing speed, reaching him in a heartbeat. Instead of piercing his flesh, the strands connected, forming a crimson net that enveloped the man and the surrounding earth.

Elder Stone Fang’s eyes flashed with a sharp light. “Seal!” he roared.

As the word left his lips, the crimson net crackled with red lightning. Countless runes of glowing crimson light flashed across its surface, weaving together to form an impenetrable seal.

The wizened elder stepped forward, entering the valley. The dry undergrowth rustled as he passed, and a scattering of red dots surged forth, though their numbers were fewer than before.

The elder’s expression remained unchanged. He raised his right hand, flicking his fingers. Each flick unleashed a blade of sword energy, tearing through the air and scattering the red specks.

In truth, if the Jiu Li Worms had been more numerous, even his cultivation would have faced a challenge. But with the remaining worms few in number, he dispatched them with ease.

Elder Stone Fang moved, floating effortlessly into the valley. With his assistance, the worms outside the sealed area were eradicated in mere moments, leaving only those trapped within the body of the white-robed man.

The third to enter was Guo Xingyi’s uncle, the Nascent Soul stage elder. The others followed. As for Qianqin, her face was devoid of fury, replaced by a haunting calmness.

Having shattered the last of the Jiu Li Worms, the wizened elder turned his gaze towards a patch of golden blossoms a few dozen feet away.

“Lu Songyi, go and gather the Yao Golden Fruit!” he commanded, his voice filled with an undeniable authority. Lu Songyi, the Nascent Soul stage elder, responded with a deferential ‘Yes, Elder!’ and hastened to gather the fruit.
But then, a whisper of wind, a sigh from beyond the valley’s rim, stirred the air. It seemed a common breeze, rustling the leaves and grasses with a gentle shush.

Yet, upon Stone Fang, Elder of the Great Luo Sword Sect, and the squat, weathered elder, this wind wrought a transformation most profound, a stark terror etched upon their faces.

Stone Fang spun, his eyes blazing like forge-fires, fixed upon the valley mouth. The矮個老者 (dwarf elder) his face a thundercloud, hand gripping his pouch, his gaze a promise of death leveled at the unseen approach.

Their actions sent a ripple through the valley’s very essence, a chill of foreboding descending upon the gathered company.

Lu, the elder intent on claiming the Lumina Fruit, halted in his advance, suspicion gleaming in his eyes. His companions mirrored his unease, save for the woman, Qian Qin. Her gaze, detached and still, remained fixed upon the fallen form of the white-robed man, as if the world held no further claim upon her interest.

“Who treads here?” Stone Fang’s voice, laced with forced calm, echoed through the valley. “Let them reveal themselves. I am Stone Fang of the Great Luo Sword Sect. Speak!” He exchanged a troubled glance with the dwarf elder, both mirroring the growing unease.

In the fleeting instant of that wind’s arrival, the sensation that had haunted him since entering the Demon Northlands, that persistent prickle of unease, had flared with blinding intensity. It was as if a distant, prowling beast had suddenly materialized before his very eyes.

The abruptness of the change sent tremors through their very souls.

From beyond the valley’s mouth, a swirling cloud of ashen mist coalesced, its density concealing all that might lie within. It hung there, a silent sentinel barring their way.

The sight of it drained the color from Stone Fang’s face.

“Who are you?” The矮個老者 (dwarf elder) his voice a low growl, spat the words like venom.

Before the shrouded figure could reply, he roared, his hand darting to his pouch. A polished, jade-inlaid mirror materialized, hurled aloft to grow with impossible speed. It swelled to three feet in diameter, radiating an ethereal, green light that sought to imprison the ashen mist.

Even as the dwarf elder unleashed his artifact, Stone Fang, his companion for countless years, reacted with instinctive precision. He wove his hands in a rapid series of seals, and his ancestral sword, a weapon of legend, roared from its sheath. It hovered above him, projecting a spectral blade, ten fathoms in height, into the air.

“Sever!” Stone Fang bellowed.

As the sect elders engaged the mysterious threat, Lu Songyi, a cultivator of the Nascent Soul stage, saw an opportunity. Seizing the moment, he moved with lightning speed towards the Lumina Fruit.

The jade mirror’s light sought to bind the ashen mist, while Stone Fang’s spectral blade, a weapon forged of starlight and shadow, descended with the fury of the heavens. The air cracked and howled in its wake.

The Great Luo Sword Sect was renowned for its mastery of the blade, and their swordsmanship held power beyond measure.

But!

As the spectral blade plunged toward the earth, the ashen mist stirred. Not with a gentle breath, but with the force of a stampede, a tidal wave of unimaginable power. It surged forward, shattering all resistance, engulfing the valley in its suffocating embrace.

From within the mist, a voice, cold as the void between stars, echoed forth.

“The flickering light of fireflies dares not challenge the glory of the moon!”

The words, chilling and disdainful, struck the hearts of all who heard them. The jade mirror’s ethereal glow flickered and died, fracturing into a million emerald shards that scattered upon the wind.

The mirror itself, groaned in agony, and shattered.

Stone Fang’s descending blade… shivered… and disintegrated.