Ancient Platform Locks the Array, Killing Intent Lurks

The lingering echoes of the distant bell faded completely into the mountains of the secret realm, and the air currents in the forest, which had been violently agitated by the sound, gradually returned to stillness.

The fine, shimmering specks of spiritual light floating across the mountains slowly descended, settling upon the verdant weeds and mottled ancient stones, rendering the entire valley even more tranquil. Yet, to Lin Chen, this serenity held no sense of peace; instead, it felt like a thin crust of ice concealing turbulent, unpredictable undercurrents.

He stood where he was, the faint tremor from touching the bell's resonance still lingering in his fingertips, his internal spiritual power slowly circulating to settle. He did not rush to move, his eyes slightly lowered as his divine sense quietly unfurled like a spiderweb, probing every movement within a hundred-foot radius, inch by inch.

Since stepping into this secret realm, he had remained mindful of the shadow trailing him in the dark. The adversary was incredibly patient, never once striking or revealing themselves, clinging like bone-deep rot, silently following behind to wait for an opportunity. Especially just now, when the Primordial Bell's toll had rung across the wilderness, causing subtle shifts in the realm's arrays, spiritual energy, and terrain—it was the moment the hidden person could most easily shift positions, conceal their tracks, and set a trap.

His divine sense swept over jagged rocks, deep thickets, and babbling brooks, yet failed to capture a shred of human presence.

But the cleaner it felt, the more ominous it became.

Lin Chen's brow furrowed slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes. Practicing the Great Dao of Fate-Defying, his perception of danger far surpassed that of cultivators at his level, even exceeding that of veteran powerhouses with profound cultivation. At this moment, the heavy sense of crisis in his heart did not dissipate; instead, as the bell fell silent and the realm returned to stillness, it became clearer and more intense.

"You hide well."

He murmured to himself, his tone flat, devoid of panic. Having experienced countless life-and-death gambits, he was long accustomed to having an enemy in the shadows; panic had always been the most useless of emotions.

No longer fixated on searching for the hidden enemy, Lin Chen lifted his gaze toward the deepest part of the valley.

The origin of the bell's toll was no longer the hazy, cloud-shrouded sight it had been moments ago. The mist had been thoroughly purged by the sound, revealing a dilapidated yet immensely imposing ancient bluestone platform in the center of the mountains.

The Ancient Platform occupied a vast area, constructed entirely of dark cyan primordial rock. Its surface was covered in gullies eroded by time, with cracks winding and intersecting like the markings on an ancient beast. The sides of the platform were carved with countless obscure, ancient runes that intertwined and connected, and even after enduring endless ages, they still retained a faint, shimmering glow of Dao rhyme, rising and falling with a primitive, majestic air.

More strangely, the entire platform hovered several feet above the ground, without pillars or contact with the earth, suspended solely by its own residual array power. At the four corners of the platform stood four broken stone pillars; the statues of mythical beasts that once topped them had long since crumbled, leaving only half-bodies that still exuded a formidable aura of suppression.

The bell sound that had shaken the entire secret realm had emanated from the recessed bell-slot in the very center of the platform. At this moment, the slot was empty, save for a faint, lingering golden resonance that refused to dissipate.

"The Primordial Suppression Bell has long been lost, leaving only the array platform behind, yet it can still trigger the Dao sounds of the realm. This place is no ordinary ruin."

Lin Chen lifted his feet, walking slowly toward the platform. The weeds beneath him were soft and damp, and the spiritual energy in the forest grew increasingly pure and dense; inhaling it into his lungs caused his internal spiritual power to accelerate involuntarily.

The closer he drew to the platform, the heavier the pressure of the world around him became.

An invisible force of restraint blanketed the area. An ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator stepping here would likely struggle even to stand, their spiritual power suppressed to the core. Yet, this pressure only caused the air currents around Lin Chen to stall for a brief moment.

The Fate-Defying Ancestral Seal within him glowed faintly, a gentle yet domineering Dao rhyme circulating through his body, effortlessly neutralizing the platform's suppressive force. The Primordial Array that others feared was, to him, nothing more than a common shackle.

Reaching the base of the platform, Lin Chen looked up, his gaze slowly sweeping over every ancient rune on its body.

These markings were not mere decorations, but a complete, ancient Heaven-Locking Array. The array was incomplete, with countless nodes long since annihilated by time, yet the remaining lines still connected to one another, forming a world of their own, sealing the energy of the entire valley and isolating it from external detection.

No wonder that since he stepped into this valley, all external sounds and spiritual fluctuations had been cut off; even the transmission talismans of major sects would be completely ineffective here.

"Locking the array to seal the domain, concealing the secrets of heaven," Lin Chen whispered. "Did the ancient power who laid this array do so to protect a fortune, or to suppress something?"

This question, no one could answer.

The history of the secret realm's ruins was too distant, its heritage long severed, leaving behind only broken mountains and rivers and unsolved mysteries. Over countless years, innumerable cultivators had broken into this place, yet none had ever fully deciphered the origin of this platform.

Taking a deep breath of the dense primordial spiritual energy, Lin Chen leaped lightly, stepping through the air to land steadily on the primitive, heavy bluestone surface.

The moment his soles touched the platform, a faint humming sound rang out once more.

The entire silent platform shuddered, and the ancient runes covering its body instantly lit up with a faint cyan light. Layers of halos flowed and spread along the gullies; the once-dead array markings seemed to fully revive in this instant.

The breeze suddenly stilled, and the floating specks of spiritual light froze in mid-air.

A vast, ancient aura, carrying endless vicissitudes, erupted from the depths of the platform and shrouded the surroundings.

Lin Chen stood at the heart of the platform, his posture upright and unmoving as a mountain, his eyes calm as he observed the changes in the array.

He could clearly perceive that the reviving array was not one of attack, but of attraction and convergence. Countless strands of pure spiritual energy and drifting Dao rhymes scattered in the depths of the secret realm were being forcibly pulled by the array, pouring incessantly into the center of the platform.

On the ground at the center of the platform, a spiral-shaped groove slowly lit up. The depths of the groove were pitch-black and unfathomable, with no end in sight, emitting waves of faint suction.

At the same time, the Fate-Defying Ancestral Seal, which had been dormant within him for a long time, suddenly increased its pulse frequency.

A warm power rose from the depths of his dantian, circulating through his meridians to his entire body. The profound runes on the Ancestral Seal grew slightly hot, faintly giving rise to a strong sense of resonance. This resonance was incredibly vivid, far exceeding any sensation he had felt anywhere else in the secret realm, as if something of the same origin as the Fate-Defying Ancestral Seal were hidden beneath the platform.

"So that's how it is."

Lin Chen understood instantly.

Throughout his journey, the seal's response had been weak and flickering, preventing him from locking onto a specific location. Only now, as he stepped into the core of the platform and the array was fully activated, had this predestined connection become crystal clear.

The entire platform was the signpost that had guided him here, and the true fortune was hidden deep beneath the earth.

Just as he prepared to lean down to investigate the depth of the groove, a very faint sound of wind suddenly arose from the dense forest at the edge of the platform.

The wind was thin and weak, mixed into the humming of the circulating array, enough to deceive ninety-nine percent of cultivators.

But Lin Chen's perception was incredibly sharp.

He paused, his aura instantly retracting, the spiritual power that had been circulating outside his body sinking inward. He became like a piece of silent bluestone, blending into the ancient, weathered environment.

It was here.

He felt no surprise in his heart.

The shadow that had trailed him all the way had finally made its move.

The opponent was very patient, holding back until he had stepped onto the platform, activated the array, and had his focus largely drawn by the fortune beneath the earth before finally choosing to strike. Clearly, the opponent understood the principle of waiting for an opportunity, knowing this was the moment his defenses were at their weakest and he was most prone to revealing a flaw.

The next second, a figure as black as ink darted out from the dark thicket on the west side of the platform.

The person was wrapped entirely in a wide black cloak made of a special fabric that completely isolated their spiritual power and aura. From head to toe, there was not a single flaw; one could only see a pair of cold, dead eyes beneath the cloak, devoid of emotion, like a viper that had been lurking for years, locked firmly onto Lin Chen at the center of the platform.

The opponent's cultivation was hidden perfectly; there appeared to be no massive leakage of spiritual power, yet every movement carried a killing intent condensed to the extreme.

There was no probing, no words.

The moment the figure appeared, a slender black blade flipped into the palm of the black-robed man. The blade was dull and lusterless, neither reflecting the sky nor catching the light—clearly a sinister weapon crafted specifically for assassination, wreathed in a faint aura of death that would wound a cultivator's very essence upon the slightest contact.

Whoosh—

A sharp, piercing sound tore through the silence.

The black blade, carrying condensed killing intent and a chilling death aura, transformed into a streak of pitch-black light. It skimmed across the surface of the Ancient Platform with extreme speed, reaching a point three inches from Lin Chen's throat in the blink of an eye.

The strike was fast, vicious, and aimed with surgical precision at a lethal point. It was clearly the work of a seasoned master of assassination; every ounce of force and every angle had been calculated to perfection.

Had it been an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator, even one on guard, it would have been nearly impossible to dodge such a sudden, fatal blow.

Yet, facing this lightning-fast assassination attempt, Lin Chen merely raised his eyelids. He did not dodge or weave, simply turning and curling the fingers of his right hand in a casual motion.

Snap!

A crisp sound rang out.

The pitch-black blade, capable of severely wounding a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator, was caught firmly in his bare hand. It hung suspended in mid-air, unable to advance even a fraction of an inch.

The chilling death aura coiling around the blade raged wildly, attempting to invade his meridians and corrode his spiritual power, but the moment it touched Lin Chen's skin, it was instantly crushed and dissolved by an invisible layer of Dao rhyme, failing to stir even a ripple.

The black-robed man's body, hidden beneath his cloak, stiffened abruptly. For the first time, a flicker of genuine shock appeared in those dead, hollow eyes.

He had been tailing him for days, observing him the entire way, and believed he had fully grasped Lin Chen's capabilities. He knew the target was merely at the Foundation Establishment stage, and even if his combat prowess far exceeded the norm, it had to have its limits. Yet, this display of catching a blade barehanded and effortlessly neutralizing the death aura far exceeded the scope of an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator.

"Hiding your head and showing your tail, following me all this way—finally decided to come out?"

Lin Chen looked at the black-robed man with calm eyes. His voice was not loud, yet it carried a composure that pierced straight to the heart.

He applied a slight pressure with his fingers.

Crack!

The incredibly tough assassin's blade was instantly covered in fine cracks, then shattered upon impact, turning into a cloud of iron filings that drifted away on the wind.

The residual blade energy and death aura dissipated entirely, while the green array patterns on the platform continued to flow, undisturbed by the skirmish.

The black-robed man quickly suppressed his shock, showing no hesitation or desire to linger. With his first strike failed, he immediately withdrew, his body turning into a blurred shadow. His movement technique was eerie and erratic; stepping on the afterimages in the woods, he prepared to vanish back into the darkness of the forest.

He knew the way of the assassin: if a strike fails, retreat a thousand miles; never get entangled in a protracted fight.

But since Lin Chen had already caught sight of him, he would not allow him to escape so easily and continue lurking in the shadows.

"Since you've come, you might as well stay."

As the words fell, Lin Chen took a light step onto the platform.

There was no earth-shattering explosion of spiritual power, nor any complex or profound incantations. With just one simple step, he crossed several yards, as if shrinking the earth into an inch, and blocked the black-robed man's path.

He raised his hand and flicked it, sending a gentle yet overbearing palm wind of spiritual power straight forward.

The strike appeared plain and unremarkable, devoid of any outward pressure, yet it completely locked off all of the black-robed man's avenues of retreat. The surrounding array energy was drawn in, layering green light to imprison the area, trapping the black-robed man in a confined space where he had nowhere to hide and nowhere to run.

The black-robed man's pupils contracted, his heart ringing with alarm.

In this moment of crisis, he gritted his teeth and let out a low growl. A thick, pitch-black mist erupted from his body—a foul, bone-chilling fog with potent corrosive properties—enveloping him in an attempt to block the attack and escape.

But the next instant, the gentle palm wind descended.

The black mist vanished like snow meeting fire, all its corrosive power crushed into nothingness.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed.

The black-robed man took the palm strike head-on. His body shuddered violently, as if struck by a heavy hammer, and he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the bluestone ground at the edge of the Ancient Platform.

His wide cloak tore open in several places, and a surge of thick blood welled up from within him. He spat out a mouthful of black blood, clearly having suffered a severe injury.

Yet, this man's resilience was far beyond that of an ordinary person. Even severely wounded, he showed no panic, bracing himself against the ground to rise and flee once more.

Just then, the entire Ancient Platform began to tremble violently.

Rumble—

A deafening roar erupted from deep beneath the earth. The previously steady green array patterns suddenly flared with blinding light, shooting into the sky and illuminating the entire valley.

The spiral groove at the center of the platform opened completely. From the pitch-black, deep hole, it was no longer a faint suction, but an explosive, terrifying force of devouring.

Gales howled, spiritual energy turned chaotic, and the surrounding world was thrown into turmoil.

Whether it was the black-robed man trying to crawl away or Lin Chen standing at the edge of the platform, both felt their bodies sink simultaneously. They were locked firmly by this sudden, terrifying force, their bodies sliding uncontrollably toward the gaping hole.

This power originated from the source of the ancient array; it was incomparably overbearing and not something an ordinary cultivator could resist.

Lin Chen's expression shifted slightly. He immediately channeled the Fate-Defying Ancestral Seal to resist with all his might, layering Dao rhymes around his body to barely stabilize himself. Even so, his feet dragged two shallow furrows into the bluestone platform.

As for the black-robed man, already severely wounded and with his spiritual power in disarray, he had no strength to resist.

With a low grunt, his body was swept up like a kite with a broken string, falling straight toward the dark, deep hole in the ground.

In his panic, the tattered cloak on the black-robed man's head was torn away by the gale and drifted off entirely.

A pale, eerie face, devoid of any blood, was suddenly exposed to the light of day.

That was not the face of a normal human being.

His facial features were rigid and stiff, his skin a deathly, ashen gray. His eyes were pitch-black voids, devoid of any whites, and his entire face looked as if it had been forcibly carved out by someone, exuding an eerie, deathly silence that was neither human nor ghostly.

What was even more horrifying was the tiny, ink-black marking branded right in the center of his forehead.

That marking was twisted and intertwined in a bizarre shape, and it was identical to the dark pattern at the base of the Double-Layer Chess Game that Lin Chen had been wary of all along!

The very moment Lin Chen's gaze suddenly sharpened and his heart jolted in shock, a low, ancient, and vast whisper—as if it had spanned eons of time—suddenly echoed from deep beneath the earth, reverberating eerily throughout the entire Ancient Platform:

"Fate Defier... you have finally entered the game..."