129: Chapter 129 That's precisely why we must investigate further.

Shen Cihui stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the valley, his expression growing increasingly grave.

He took a compass from his sleeve; it was the size of a palm, entirely dark greenish-black, with mysterious runes carved all over its surface.

This was a Magical Artifact specifically used by Medicine King Valley to track the Qi of its Disciples. When each Disciple joined Medicine King Valley, they would leave behind a wisp of their life essence Qi in the valley, which was then recorded into the compass.

Shen Cihui poured his spiritual power into the compass, and the runes on its surface suddenly lit up, while a jade-green needle spun crazily on the dial.

A moment later, the needle stopped, but it did not point in any direction; it simply hung limply, motionless.

Shen Cihui's expression instantly became extremely ugly.

"The needle isn't reacting," he said in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of irrepressible anger.

"The life essence Qi left in the valley by the missing Disciples has vanished."

Chen Mo and Su Xiaowan's expressions also darkened. The disappearance of their life essence Qi meant that the Divine Souls of those Disciples had completely dissipated between heaven and earth, leaving them without even the chance for Reincarnation.

This was a fate even crueler than death.

Zhou Tianchen did not speak; his Divine Sense had already probed into the depths of the valley, scanning every inch of the land.

Soon, he discovered an anomaly.

In the center of the valley, downstream from the dried-up creek, there was a spot that made him feel an indescribable sense of wrongness.

Zhou Tianchen walked toward that spot, with Shen Cihui and the others following closely behind.

It was a low-lying area covered in withered branches and fallen leaves, looking no different from the surrounding area on the surface.

But Zhou Tianchen crouched down and brushed away the dead leaves covering it, revealing the soil beneath.

The soil was a dark red—not the natural red of clay, but the color of dried blood after soaking through.

Shen Cihui's pupils contracted sharply, and Chen Mo and Su Xiaowan's expressions also changed drastically.

"This... this is..." Su Xiaowan's voice was trembling.

Zhou Tianchen did not speak; he reached out, pinched a small amount of the dark red soil, and brought it to his nose to sniff.

The scent of blood was already very faint, so faint it was almost imperceptible, but the lingering Qi in the soil caused the spiritual power in his body to stagnate slightly for a moment.

It was an extremely ancient, extremely evil aura, as if it came from some Devil Head sealed away since the primordial era.

Zhou Tianchen put the soil down, stood up, and looked toward the deeper east.

"The direction is correct," he said calmly, his tone so composed that he did not sound like a Cultivator who had just discovered a bloody scene. "Let's keep going."

Shen Cihui glanced at him, secretly admiring him in his heart.

He considered himself composed among the younger generation of Medicine King Valley, but standing on this blood-soaked land, he felt only anger and fear.

Yet Zhou Tianchen maintained that same composure and calmness throughout, as if this blood-soaked valley were nothing more than an ordinary piece of scenery in his eyes.

"Fellow Daoist Tianchen," Shen Cihui suddenly said. "Have you considered that this matter might be more serious than we imagined?"

Zhou Tianchen looked at him and said indifferently, "I have. Precisely because of this, we must investigate further."

Shen Cihui was silent for a moment, then nodded, saying nothing more.

The four of them crossed the valley and continued eastward.

The mountain path ahead became narrower and narrower, and the peaks on both sides grew steeper. The sunlight was blocked by layer upon layer of mountain ridges, barely reaching the ground.

The scent of blood permeating the air grew thicker, changing from faint to clearly discernible, making one want to retch upon smelling it.

The expressions of Shen Cihui and the others grew increasingly grave, and their grip on their Magical Artifacts tightened.

They could feel that they were walking step by step toward an extremely dangerous place, but they had no retreat; the missing fellow Disciples were still waiting for them.

After walking for about two hours, the sky gradually darkened.

Zhou Tianchen stopped on a mountain ridge and looked into the distance.

In the twilight, deep within the mountain range, a dark red light was faintly churning, like the breathing of some giant beast, rising and falling, slow and heavy.

"We will rest here tonight," Zhou Tianchen said, withdrawing his gaze and turning to look at the three of them. "We will continue tomorrow morning."

Shen Cihui nodded, took a few Formation Plates from his Storage Pouch, and set up a simple early-warning Formation around the campsite.

The four sat in a circle, and no one spoke.

The night wind whistled through the mountains, carrying the ever-thickening scent of blood, wailing in the darkness.

In the distance, some sound faintly echoed—it sounded like the wind, or perhaps the low growl of some unknown Yao Beast, or perhaps, the dying wails of those missing Cultivators.

Zhou Tianchen sat cross-legged on a blue stone, his eyes slightly closed, the Scripture of Alchemy slowly circulating within him.

He did not sleep, nor did he Cultivate; instead, he was deducing tomorrow's route in his mind over and over again.

The Jade Slip given by Dan Qingzi marked several locations where Medicine King Valley Disciples had gone missing, as well as the place where the first group of investigators had last sent back news.

Those locations connected to form a line, extending from the edge of Medicine King Valley deep into the mountain range. The deeper they went, the more people went missing, and the higher the cultivation level of the missing.

And the end of that line was a nameless mountain peak that had no markings on the map.

Zhou Tianchen did not know what was on that mountain peak, but he had a premonition that all the answers were there.

The night deepened, and the wind in the mountains grew stronger, swirling over the campsite while carrying that nauseating scent of blood.

Zhou Tianchen opened his eyes and looked toward the mountain range to the east, which was shrouded in darkness.

In the deepest part of that darkness, the dark red light was still churning, rising and falling.

——

At this moment, deep in the mountains, the interior of a nameless mountain peak had been hollowed out, transformed into a massive underground Immortal Cave.

The four walls of the Immortal Cave were embedded with dark red crystals, emitting a dim, sinister light that illuminated the entire space in blood-red.

In the center of the Immortal Cave, a blood pool churned.

Venerable Lingyun sat cross-legged in the blood pool, his body surrounded by thick, blood-colored mist that was nearly solid.

That mist constantly churned, condensed, and contracted around him. With every breath, a large amount of pure, blood-colored spiritual power surged into his body, becoming nutrients for him to restore his cultivation.

At the edge of the blood pool, Patriarch Lin Tianyou knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold stone surface, not daring to even breathe loudly.

The blood pool before him had expanded by another circle since he last came.

The "water" in the pool was no longer a clear liquid, but a thick, nearly solidified blood plasma, emitting a nauseating, foul stench.

Within that blood plasma, countless twisted faces faintly churned, struggled, and silently roared; these were the lingering resentments of the sacrificed Cultivators, doomed to never be reincarnated in the blood pool.