The dim Ascension Ancestral Temple grew even darker now—one couldn’t see a hand in front of one’s face. After the screams of agony faded, dead silence followed, and everyone froze in their tracks, chilled to the bone.
“Fl-floating out… something’s floating out!” Finally, someone trembled, pointing ahead, their face full of terror.
That was human skin drifting through the air, falling like withered leaves from within the temple gate, light as paper, without a trace of weight, landing at their feet. The person seemed to have been flattened, facial features distorted, twisted into a look of ferocity, dying with eyes wide open.
“What’s happening?” Everyone stood frozen. They had barely stepped through the temple gate when a whole group had been killed simultaneously—this stretch of ancient temple was far more sinister than anyone had imagined.
Where was the flesh and blood, where were the bones—where had they all gone? There was only skin left, seemingly undamaged. What exactly had happened, what kind of evil spirit was this?
Through the temple gate, one could see pairs of eyes in the darkness, flickering on and off like ghost-lanterns, then gradually dimming, vanishing into the depths of the temple. This made people’s hair stand on end—the ancient temple was eerie, impossible to see through, unclear what lay within.
Many people’s courage failed them. This was merely the temple gate, after all—who knew what lay in the deeper darkness. For over two hundred thousand years shrouded in ribbon-like demonic mist, no one knew what changes had occurred within.
“I give up—I’m not going in!” Quite a few people made a decisive choice on the spot. Divine treasures were certainly precious, but if it cost them their lives, that would be truly tragic. Some were quite decisive, withdrawing from the group and turning back. No one mocked them—knowing when to let go was also a form of wisdom, a kind of insight.
“Among the dead were people at the second level of the Immortal Platform!” someone sighed. More people behind them watched, all frowning.
Some elders crouched down to examine the human skins, finding no clues at all—not even a wound. These people seemed to have simply shed a layer of skin, as if undergoing a transformation, their true bodies vanished.
“They’re definitely dead. That spiritual-sense fluctuation just now was the final struggle before the primordial spirit was extinguished.” someone said with certainty.
Though something bizarre had occurred, people couldn’t simply stop here. Some, expressions cold, each summoned their own magical implements, suspending them overhead to illuminate a patch of light, resolutely walking into the ancient temple.
The weapons shimmered with divine radiance, casting rays of light downward from above their heads, illuminating the path ahead and lighting up everything inside the temple gate—empty, nothing there at all.
“We cultivators, if we wish to achieve anything, must press forward bravely. What does a mere ancient temple matter—how could it block our path!” an elder said in a deep voice.
He and a group of others quickly vanished inside. This time it was silent, with no screams at all—they had swiftly passed through the first courtyard, disappearing into the darkness.
The ancient temple truly was strange. The second level seemed to conceal everything—those outside could hear no sound, see no light, as if the two sides were completely cut off from each other.
Many people kept watching, hoping to discern good fortune from ill before making their decision, but now there was no hope of that—waiting around simply wasn’t an option. Because if those people succeeded, they would surely sweep up every rare treasure clean, leaving nothing for anyone else.
“Let’s go. We’ve already come this far—we might as well walk through ourselves, or it’ll be too much of a regret.” More people chose to press forward, unwilling to fall behind others, because this was the ancestral temple of the ancient wilderness’s first Divine Dynasty—even without magical implements inside, whatever was found would surely be a world-shaking divine weapon.
Ye Fan, Pang Bo, the Monkey, and the others also headed toward the temple gate. The Black Emperor first confirmed there were no killing formations within the gate, then let Duan De walk in front—one could say this was his domain, where no one else could compare.
“This is an entire temple-world—vast and boundless!” After Duan De entered, his expression immediately shifted uncertainly.
From outside it looked like an ancient temple, but after truly entering, they discovered this was actually a terrifying cluster of small worlds—every single courtyard was its own realm, connected together, magnificent and vast to an extreme degree.
It was truly astonishing—the Ascension Divine Dynasty had spared no expense; back then, some being of unfathomable power must have exhausted their own origin essence to conjure so many small worlds. The so-called ancestral temple was unfathomably deep.
“Even though we’re only separated from the neighboring courtyard by a single wall, if we don’t go in, we won’t know what’s happening in the next layer of the ancient temple, because in reality we’re separated by an entire small world.” Duan De continued.
People realized it was simply impossible to fly over—impossible to leap over the wall either. There were spatial barriers in place, unless one shattered the void itself and forced their way through violently. But in a place like this, no one dared act recklessly—back in its day, the Ascension Divine Dynasty had ruled half of the Central Prefecture; who knew what shocking consequences might follow from destroying their most sacred site.
“This is essentially a maze, so vast in scale—clusters of ancient temples, clusters of small worlds connected together. We might get lost before we reach the end!” the big black dog said, solemnly warning everyone.
Ahead, a stretch of pitch darkness, the courtyard silent and still, no one speaking, everyone holding their breath, walking step by step toward the second layer of the hall.
On the ground, one human skin after another lay scattered, clearly showing that the first wave had nearly all perished, spread across the ground like a hideous painted scroll.
Old Blind Man said: “The Ascension Divine Dynasty was extremely mysterious. Legend has it that many of their enemies, when they died, ascended directly, vanishing from the world, occasionally leaving behind only hair and beard.”
Everyone gasped—only a skin remained here too, blood and bone vanished, much the same. It truly did seem as though these people had ascended within this bizarre ancient temple, filling everyone with dread.
“Shh!”
A snow orchid on Duan De’s body suddenly lit up, changing from pure white to blood-red, giving off an eerie glow in the darkness—they had now reached the entrance to the second layer courtyard.
“Most of the second wave that entered are probably dead too. Only the scent of thick blood can turn the snow orchid this color!” he said gravely. He crouched down to examine carefully, discovering several streaks of blood seeping from the closed door’s cracks.
Everyone felt their hair stand on end. Those who had just entered were all top-tier experts—could they truly all be dead?
“Creeeak”
From a distance, Duan De used his spiritual power to push open the door to the second courtyard. In an instant, a pungent scent of blood rushed out—inside, pitch darkness, dead silence.
They gasped in shock. Aside from the ground covered in human skins, there were also many white bone fragments stained with blood, along with numerous torn shreds of flesh, and many spilled intestines scattered across the ground—utterly gruesome, too horrific to look at directly.
“Everyone who just went in is dead!”
Ordinary people had all turned into human skins, but those elder-generation experts, powerful and formidable, had struggled and resisted, yet all had been torn apart by something.
Duan De pinched between his fingers a jet-black flower, as if it had grown from the underworld itself, capable of stirring a person’s very soul, making one want to fly toward it uncontrollably—this was the Death Spirit Flower, growing in mass graves, carrying the heaviest yin energy.
He gave his hand a shake, tossing the Death Spirit Flower inside. The pitch-black flower landed in the courtyard, with no change whatsoever, remaining perfectly still. They waited a long time, and it stayed exactly the same.
“It’s not death spirits or ghostly things—there’s something alive in here!” Duan De said gravely.
An ancient temple sealed for over two hundred thousand years, and something living inside it? This piece of news left everyone shocked—it was explosive. Ye Fan and the others all felt a jolt run through them.
“Go!”
Ye Fan walked in first, the All-Things Mother Qi Cauldron suspended above his head, wisps of mother-qi cascading down, protecting him thoroughly. Ji Ziyue’s eyes gleamed brightly, staying close by his side, and the Monkey, gripping his jet-black iron staff, also advanced, stepping into this level of the courtyard.
Still dead silent, not a sound came from the courtyard, deathly quiet, save for those shattered fragments of blood, bone, and flesh, which were shocking to behold. Once they had all entered, only the sound of breathing remained.
“Ahh…”
Suddenly, a shrill scream shattered the silence, an overwhelming, terrifying aura erupting above their heads, rushing straight toward the crowns of their skulls.
This turn of events was too sudden—moments before, they had sensed nothing at all. This terrifying danger had appeared abruptly, something alive launching an ambush.
The instant they looked up, everyone’s scalps went numb. On the tall courtyard walls, and hanging from the pitch-black eaves, hung corpse after corpse, hair disheveled, and now all had opened their eyes, glowing like ghost-lanterns—all of them fell down head-first, feet up.
“Damn it, tomb-robber, didn’t you say there were no ghosts here? What the hell is this?” the big black dog barked, every hair on its body standing on end, because its movements had become sluggish—as if it were carrying a mountain of demonic weight on its back, pinned down as if by a ghost pressing on its chest, unable to move freely.
The others were the same, their movements suddenly clumsy, all struggling to move quickly, while those hanged-ghost-like beings swooped down, reaching for the crowns of their skulls.
“Damn bastards, all of you go die!” Pang Bo was extremely fierce—he pulled out the Divine Maiden Furnace he had borrowed from Yan Yixi, flipped open the lid, and unleashed a burst of divine fire straight at them.
“Ahh…” Shrill screams echoed through the courtyard, the smell of scorched flesh filling the air.
The things hanging upside-down from the eaves, hair disheveled one and all, their eyes fierce and terrifying, suddenly extended demon-like fleshy wings, soaring into the sky, trailing flames, spiraling and screaming—utterly bone-chilling.
The more shrilly they screamed, the more sluggish everyone’s movements became. Old Blind Man said: “Cut off their sound waves—don’t let it reach your body!”
Everyone snapped awake, all following his instruction, and instantly their movements returned to normal, no longer sluggish in the slightest. Pang Bo shouted: “I don’t care what the hell you things are—today I’m going hunting, I’ll blast every last one of you down.”
He used the Divine Maiden Furnace like an anti-air cannon, firing one terrifying ball of fire after another—this was a legendary heirloom weapon, its inner flame naturally possessing unmatched power, burning down several dozen charred corpses, most barely recognizable in form anymore.
“What exactly are these things?” Everyone turned to Duan De, asking together.
“Don’t blame me—you all saw it too, they have life in them, they’re living creatures, not yin ghosts.” Duan De crouched down, examining carefully, then walked beneath the eaves, peering into the pitch-black ancient hall, and gave a shudder, stumbling backward, because there were many more of these things inside.
“I understand now. These are descendants of a Yin God. There must be something utterly terrifying deep within this temple!” Duan De’s expression changed drastically, looking even worse than when he’d encountered the Divine Sentience.
“What exactly is a descendant of a Yin God?” Everyone was confused.
In life, this being possessed incomparably formidable strength; in death, its divine flesh remained undecaying, happening to be buried atop a yin-eye vein of the earth’s arteries. After countless ages, one day this corpse would “come alive.” Of course, it would have nothing to do with who it was in life anymore—this would be an entirely new life form, a completely fresh beginning, which could also be understood as the highest form of corpse transformation—a life form born from gestation at the very extreme of death, a miracle that defied heaven itself. Should it learn to cultivate, it would gradually become unstoppable.
This kind of existence was a brand-new life form, capable of mating and producing offspring as well. The living beings before them now belonged to the descendants of this Yin God, though naturally their bloodline power was quite diluted.
Upon encountering a human or other living being, they could directly immobilize their target, then lock lips and suck out all their essence, flesh, and bone in one go—utterly terrifying and lethal.