Cauldron Artifact Fragment—Beast-Fighting Palace

Chen Lingxi stepped over the threshold, and his pupils contracted sharply.

He saw mountains and rivers.

A landscape embroidered in splendor.

Mountains rose and fell, range upon range overlapping; distant peaks were dark as painted brows, nearby ridges lush with green.

Streams wound through the mountains, their waters clear jade-green, glinting like scattered gold beneath the sunlight.

Mist coiled around the mountainsides in wisps and threads, wrapping the peaks until they flickered in and out of sight.

Only... the light in the sky was not sunlight.

Chen Lingxi looked up—

There was no sun in the heavens.

Only a jade bottle.

The jade bottle hung high overhead, its body lustrous white as jade, faint currents of light swirling within.

Its mouth faced downward, pouring forth a stream of purple radiance like a violet waterfall cascading between heaven and earth, illuminating the entire stretch of mountains and rivers.

Chen Lingxi's pupils narrowed!

He recognized this jade bottle.

On Inlaid Gold Mountain, when the swordsman had attempted an assassination!

This was the very object the youth in the purple-gold crown had held in his palm!

From it had shone an incomparably dense Purple True Treasure Aura, meant to slay that assassin swordsman.

And the thread of Purple True Treasure Aura in his dantian now had come from this very thing!

"Not just this Purple True Treasure Aura!"

Chen Lingxi felt carefully. His spiritual qi sensed an ancient aura rushing toward him.

That aura was immensely dense, immensely heavy, as if it carried the years sedimented over tens of millions of years, pressing down until one could scarcely breathe.

It was neither sharp nor fierce, nor did it possess the slightest aggression.

It was merely—ancient.

Ancient as though it had existed since heaven and earth first opened; ancient as though time itself had condensed into something tangible.

Chen Lingxi's breathing hitched slightly.

He had experienced this feeling before.

"The Candle of Time."

When the Cauldron Venerable within the candle had opened his eyes, the ancient aura that had rushed toward him had been exceedingly similar to this one.

Only, the Candle of Time's aura had been heavier and dimmer, carrying the dusk-like decay of extreme old age.

This aura before him was clearer and brighter, bearing a vigorous vitality, an almost arrogant—youthfulness.

"Ancient, yet young?"

The feeling was too strange.

Chen Lingxi drew a deep breath.

At last, he understood.

"This Beast-Fighting Palace... is a fragment of a cauldron artifact, or perhaps a cauldron artifact itself?"

Chen Lingxi stood upon a gentle slope, taking in the heavens where the jade bottle hung and the endless mountains below. A plan had already formed in his mind.

"A cauldron artifact... no different from the Candle of Time." He murmured inwardly, his gaze sweeping over the layered peaks in the distance before settling upon the deeper forests and ravines.

At that very moment, a muffled boom suddenly erupted from the distant woods.

The sound was not loud, yet it was heavy, as though someone were beating a drum underground. It shook the leaves all around until they rustled and trembled.

Following the sound, Chen Lingxi saw two figures collide in a mountain hollow three li away.

They were two "fighting beasts"!

One wielded a saber, its light pouring forth like a bolt of silk, shearing through the surrounding shrubs and sending branches and leaves flying. The other wielded a long spear, the spear tip shaking out blossoms as large as bowls, each thrust aimed squarely at his opponent's throat or heart.

Both possessed Copper-Red Realm cultivation, their blood and qi blazing like fire. Every clash of weapons threw out great showers of sparks, making the shadowy hollow flare bright and dim by turns.

Chen Lingxi did not move.

Standing atop the slope beneath the cover of several short pines, he quietly watched the deadly battle.

The saber-wielder gradually gained the upper hand.

His saber technique was not particularly exquisite; its strength lay in one word: speed. Each slash was faster than the last, like summer rain beating plantain leaves, so dense that not even water could seep through.

The spearman's blood and qi had already been inferior to his opponent's. Now he was forced back step by step, his spear momentum thrown into disarray and his footwork scattered.

A flash of saber light, and the spearman's shaft broke cleanly in two, the severed ends smooth as mirrors.

Another flash of saber light, and his head flew into the air.

Blood gushed forth.

Chen Lingxi saw it clearly.

The spearman's fallen corpse suddenly twitched, then dissolved. After that, a glow slowly rose from the crown of his head!

That glow was exceedingly thin and faint, milky white in color. Like a slender wisp of smoke, it curled upward from his skull, circled three times, then drifted leisurely toward the saber-wielder.

The saber-wielder was crouched on the ground, rifling through his opponent's corpse. Startled by the sudden light, he sprang backward and raised his saber across his chest.

Yet the glow paid no heed to his guard. It lightly settled atop his head and hovered there, like a tiny moon shedding a faint, ghostly light.

The man froze for a moment and reached up to touch his head, but his palm passed straight through the glow. He could touch nothing.

Alarmed and suspicious, he looked around on all sides. In the end, unable to make sense of what it was, he could only give up and carry his saber deeper into the mountain hollow.

The glow above his head followed him, never leaving him by a single step.

Chen Lingxi watched it all, several strands of understanding already forming in his heart.

"This glow... is likely connected to this cauldron artifact."

"Cauldron artifacts have rules of their own.

Just as the Candle of Time traded lifespan for opportunities, since this place is a fragment of a cauldron artifact, it must have its own rules as well."

He withdrew his gaze and no longer watched the saber-wielder's retreating back.

"Within this realm, my most urgent task is to conceal my tracks, ascertain the situation, and wait for these fighting beasts to slaughter one another until they have exhausted themselves. Then I will deal with the strongest among them."

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, drawing in his aura even more tightly.

The Concealed Edge Method circulated soundlessly within him. The strand of azure qi in his dantian was wrapped in an exceedingly thin yet resilient barrier, keeping its secrets from leaking out.

The silvery glow unique to the Silver Bone Realm beneath his skin was also suppressed until it was nearly nonexistent.

He looked around and chose a towering ancient locust tree.

The locust tree was extraordinarily thick, its trunk requiring three or four people to encircle it. Its canopy blotted out the sky and sun, its layers upon layers of branches and leaves so dense that almost no light penetrated through.

"I'll hide in the tree for now."

He walked beneath it and lightly tapped the trunk with the tip of his foot. His body rose, and like a night cat, he slipped soundlessly into the depths of the canopy.

He found a sturdy branch and sat cross-legged upon it, his back against the trunk. His entire body blended into the thick shadows of the leaves.

The wind swept past, rustling the locust leaves, concealing every trace of his breath and heartbeat.

He sat there without moving.

Two hours passed.

From time to time, shouts of battle, clashing weapons, and death screams came from the forest. Each sound traveled from near or far, carried into his ears by the mountain wind.

Glows occasionally rose in the distant sky. Sometimes there was one; sometimes two or three lit up at once, hovering faintly above the heads of those victors.

Chen Lingxi remained still.

He could kill, but pointless slaughter such as this—better to kill as little as possible.

He was waiting.

Waiting for those fighting beasts to wear one another down to the last.

Another hour passed, and the sounds in the forest gradually grew sparse.

Just then, he heard footsteps.

They were exceedingly heavy and steady. Every step upon the mountain stones seemed measured with a ruler, the spacing exact to the slightest fraction.

Amid the footsteps was also an extremely soft hum.

It was a common folk tune Chen Lingxi had never heard before.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked down through a gap in the leaves.

Then his pupils suddenly contracted.

"Qiu Chihu?"

Qiu Chihu was walking over from the far end of the mountain path.

He still wore that fitted black outfit, with the long saber hanging at his waist.

His steps were light, a smile hung on his face, and he hummed a tune, like some young pleasure-seeker on his way to drink wine among flowers!

Yet he looked nothing like a man out seeking pleasure.

His robes were spattered with blood.

His right hand remained on the hilt of his saber. The joints of that hand were thick, veins knotted across its back, and dark-red bloody grime was lodged beneath his fingernails.

Above his head hovered ten glows.

Ten true lights, milky white with faint golden gleams, arranged in a neat row like a crown woven from starlight resting upon his head.

Chen Lingxi's gaze swept across those ten true lights, and his heart sank slightly.

Ten lights meant at least ten lives.

Chen Lingxi did not move or look.

He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, eased his heartbeat. His entire body became like a patch of moss grown upon the tree, merging as one with the old locust.

Qiu Chihu came beneath the tree, suddenly stopped, and looked up at the towering ancient locust.

Through the slits of his eyes, Chen Lingxi saw Qiu Chihu's gaze sweep across the canopy, as though searching for something.

After a moment, Qiu Chihu withdrew his gaze, shook his head, passed beneath the tree, and continued onward.

Chen Lingxi remained motionless.

Only after the footsteps had completely vanished beyond the distant mountain path did he slowly open his eyes and let out a long breath of stale air.

Several more muffled booms erupted from a distant mountain hollow, shaking the locust leaves until they trembled in waves. Then silence returned, and another new glow lit up in the distance.

Within the canopy, the play of light and shadow faded from dense to thin, then deepened from thin to dense again.

No one knew how long had passed when another set of footsteps approached from afar, heading toward this old locust tree.

Then came a scream!

The scream was extremely brief, as though someone's throat had been seized. Only half a cry escaped before it abruptly cut off.

Next came the dull thud of a heavy body hitting the ground, followed by a pleased laugh.

Chen Lingxi looked down through the gaps in the leaves.

There was one more person beneath the tree—or, more precisely, one more corpse.

The glow above the corpse's head was slowly rising, drifting to one side.

Chen Lingxi followed that glow with his gaze.

Two people stood in the clearing beneath the tree.

One was Sun Ninghu!

The "fierce beast" under Yunhe Commandery Princess's command who had been ordered to break one of his legs!

He still wore that dark-brown short outfit, the muscles in both arms bulging, his ten fingers spread like tiger claws, blood still dripping from his fingertips.

Two glows hovered above his head.

At that moment, Sun Ninghu was gasping heavily, his chest heaving violently. A deep saber wound had appeared on his right arm, deep enough to expose bone, blood steadily seeping from it.

Qiu Chihu stood opposite him.

He still wore that smiling expression, one hand pressed upon his saber hilt, the other held behind his back.

The lights above his head were arranged in a perfectly neat row, giving off a faint glow beneath the sunlight.

Only now, there were fifteen of them.

He tilted his head as he looked at Sun Ninghu, as though he were examining an interesting toy.

"Ninghu?" Qiu Chihu spoke. His voice was not loud, but his tone dragged on, carrying undisguised contempt. "Of all things you could call yourself, you had to call yourself Ninghu."

"I am the real tiger."