Chapter Seventy-Three: The Poison Sea Rises, A Narrow Escape from Disaster

The sea, which had just moments before been as calm as a polished mirror, now roared with towering waves, surging and seething as if bent on unleashing a lifetime’s worth of fury in one outpouring. It thundered, howled, and raged, like a wild beast gone mad, intent on devouring everyone before it until nothing remained. The saltwater advanced, steadily encroaching on the land, pressing relentlessly closer to the group. It approached its prey with the deliberate playfulness of a predator, drawing near only to retreat suddenly just as the victims braced themselves for capture. Yet, whenever there was a glimmer of hope—when they thought perhaps the beast would show mercy and spare them—it would bare its fangs and torment their spirits anew. Perhaps their only release from this torment would come when the sea finally tired of its game; but everyone knew that moment was not now.

By now, the sun hung level with the horizon, as if a luminous pearl had fallen into the sea, breathtakingly beautiful. The evening sunlight was impossible to ignore, its golden brilliance turning the surface of the water into a river of wealth, as if a majestic golden dragon had risen from the depths. The dragon, conjured from the ocean itself, rampaged across the waves, ensuring not a moment of peace. It hurled wave after wave toward the shore, attempting to drag the group into its watery embrace. Fortunately, fate was not on its side: the waves lost their force as they reached the land, dwindling and retreating before they could inflict true harm.

“What should we do now? The tide keeps rising, and there’s no sign of it stopping. If it covers the shore, we’ll all be swept away without a trace!” Yin Boxuan frowned at the relentless flood. If this were ordinary seawater, they would dismiss it as nothing more than an unexpected bath—perhaps even a chance to cleanse their restless hearts. But everyone had seen Lan Wu’s terrible injury—her skin burned and seared from the mere touch of the water. If the tide submerged the ground, their fate would be sealed.

“It’s infuriating! In this cursed place, even the simplest flight spell or defensive barrier is restrained. If I could use my powers freely, this toxic sea would be nothing to me—hell, I could carry you all across rolling magma without losing a single hair!” Little Yin shouted at the raging surf, his anger barely contained. The elders of Yanlan Academy must be truly ruthless, he thought. This trap was clearly designed to ensure none who entered would ever return. Who would have guessed that those hypocritical old men, who always played the part of kindly sages, could be so bloodthirsty? He realized, in hindsight, how gravely he had underestimated them. To come here so unprepared, following these greenhorns—was this really where his story would end?

“You think I need you to tell me that?” Lan Wu shot back, her anger flaring once again at the memory of her injury. “If we weren’t all restrained, I wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. If our powers weren’t limited, we wouldn’t be standing here, listening to your arrogant boasting!”

Little Yin took her retort in stride, unbothered by her sharp words. “You’re quite the sharp-tongued girl, aren’t you? Every word hits where it hurts. But I rather like that about you—speaking your mind without restraint.” Only the woman he loved could address him so freely. If it had been anyone else, he’d have put them in their place long ago.

Lan Wu couldn’t help but smile. “How can you still be in the mood for flirtations at a time like this?” She had no defense against Little Yin’s sweet words; whenever she was angry, a few soft phrases from him would disperse her temper completely. Perhaps she wasn’t truly angry at him—she simply enjoyed being coaxed.

“In all likelihood, if we were able to come here from another place, it means there’s a way out of this as well—a path to that fabled treasury. There’s no need to worry too much; you all look destined for long lives, not for dying here. Let’s focus on searching for a hidden passage or entrance. If we delay much longer, we really will be swallowed by this toxic sea!” Xun Mishuang spoke with nonchalance, as if certain they would not perish here and would reach the heart of the treasury with ease. Yet she revealed nothing more, as if fate itself was not to be spoken aloud. But whatever destiny intended, Yu Shang believed in shaping his own fate—no matter what omens might hint, he would not die here so easily.

“Other than this mountain, there’s nothing else here. If there’s a secret passage, it must be hidden inside,” Yu Shang said, walking straight to the mountain’s front to investigate. He soon discovered that the west side grew colder and colder, while the east grew ever hotter—temperatures no ordinary person, unaided by spiritual energy, could endure.

Worse still, Yu Shang felt the remnants of spiritual energy within him growing increasingly unresponsive. Before, he could at least muster a faint trace; now, not even a wisp remained. He was now no different from an ordinary mortal, save for his body—once refined at the gate of mysteries—being a bit tougher than most. He suspected he wasn’t alone; the others, too, must have found their spiritual power draining away at a shocking rate, as if water rapidly leaking from a cracked cup.

“This mountain is truly strange—I can’t get near it at all!” Meng Youyuan was forced to retreat from the unbearable temperatures, repelled by the mountain’s radiating heat and cold even before she could touch it. The ethereal woman who hovered nearby, however, seemed unaffected. Did this mean that such terrifying temperatures posed no threat to those without a physical body? Meng Youyuan looked at her, puzzled, lost in thought, while the phantom woman met her gaze, equally mystified.

“I feel weaker and weaker, as if something is draining all my strength away,” Yan Xuesu said, attempting to circulate her spiritual energy to calm herself, but found it steadily dwindling—as though someone was deliberately siphoning it. No matter how hard she tried to gather her remaining energy, it would not obey, surging chaotically within her, and her physical strength faded as well. She was already struggling to keep herself upright.

“Yan’er, stop wasting your effort. Manipulating your spiritual energy here is useless. At first I thought I was simply exhausted, but now I see someone is purposefully rendering us powerless—so that we can only watch as this toxic sea devours us.” Yu Xiaoran’s face was pale as he spoke softly. Were they truly doomed? He refused to accept that all their efforts would end in a watery grave. No matter what it took, he was determined to escape this accursed place. Yu Xiaoran would not be a powerless pawn to be slaughtered. If he could not have absolute freedom, then he would claim unmatched power—so he would not die here, forgotten and unknown.

“It seems this mountain is absorbing our spiritual energy—especially whenever the tide rises, it draws in the life force of every living thing here. Not only does the mountain benefit, but the seawater itself becomes more poisonous after consuming the essence of cultivators.” Yu Shang stood before the mountain, speaking quietly. Had he not stubbornly placed his hands on the stone once more, enduring the agony of both extremes of heat and cold, he would never have noticed. The moment he touched the rock, he sensed a force desperately sucking at his life force. If not for his body’s defenses, he would have been drained dry.

“No wonder when the sea was calm, the mountain seemed less unusual. But when the waves raged, the temperature difference became unbearable, impossible to approach. I tried to examine it myself, but was forced back by the heat.” Leng Huaiyi glanced at his reddened palm. He had trained his body to be harder than refined iron, impervious to most things—yet this mountain made him feel as if he were melting. Clearly, its temperature was beyond mortal endurance. He marveled that Yu Shang could touch it unharmed—was his body not only a treasure trove, but itself a treasure beyond compare?

“We’re trapped, caught between retreat and advance. Must we just sit here and wait for death?” At this moment, Lan Bingxian was at a loss. Ever since seeing this sea, he’d felt uneasy. He had always hidden it, not wanting to worry the others. But as the water edged closer, a nameless terror gripped him. He had braved countless deep and perilous lakes before, but only the vast ocean filled him with such dread. He had no explanation for his fear.

“Brother Xian, look out!” Sure enough, disaster struck as a massive wave crashed toward Lan Bingxian. Meng Youyuan cried out and shoved him aside, but could not dodge herself. The poisonous water surged toward her while the others could only watch, powerless. Just as the sea was about to strike Meng Youyuan, the phantom woman by her side suddenly burst into countless beams of violet light, repelling the wave in its entirety. Meng Youyuan escaped with her life. The others, relieved, couldn’t help but marvel—the woman conjured from the pearl was truly extraordinary, able to withstand the deadly sea. It seemed they would need to reevaluate the pearl’s true worth.