Fierce Battle in the Underground Palace

Deep within an underground palace, the air was thick, every breath filled with ten-thousand-year-old dust and a faint, rusty stench.

A massive blood-colored stone gate stood at the end. Twisted, sinister runes covered its doors, their patterns writhing slowly like living creatures in the dim light as they sucked in the deathly aura permeating the air.

Beneath the stone gate, two groups faced off in a tense standoff, their chilling killing intent and greedy desire colliding in the darkness.

The three members of Yellow Springs Valley wore dark robes. Their positions seemed casual, but they secretly formed the Three Talents Formation. Their auras linked together, and their icy spiritual power fluctuations merged into one, rising and falling slowly like a tide.

The withered cultivator at their head had skin shriveled tight against his bones. Only his eyes glimmered with ghostly light as they stared fixedly at the demon cultivators opposite him. A White Bone Banner swayed slightly in his hand, black mist coiling around its surface and emitting mournful wails that tugged at the soul.

Opposite them, the two demon cultivators had revealed part of their true forms.

One had a horn growing from his forehead, dark green scales covering his skin, and ten fingers sharp as hooks. A low roar rolled in his throat. The other had emerald eyes and chilling vertical pupils, while a long tail like a steel whip restlessly swept the ground behind him, scraping out piercing noises.

Their brief clash just moments ago had left scattered rubble, several fresh deep claw marks, and scorched spell traces across the hall. Both sides had tested the other's strength. If they continued fighting head-on, they would only wound each other, turning the Blood Corpse Sect's treasury into an unreachable illusion.

"Hmph, demons, you do have some brute strength."