The moment Zheng Zha stepped onto that jade platform, he was only a hundred meters from the pavilion door. By now, he dared not even glance back to see if the others were alive, or if they could all take flight before the land plummeted into the magma. As the entire landmass fractured, would they all fall through? (Damn it, as soon as Chu Xuan encounters knowledge he doesn't understand, he becomes fanatical—truly infuriating! He actually launched me out like a human cannonball... And with the situation this critical, he's still preoccupied with these cultivation manuals...) Although Zheng Zha grumbled about Chu Xuan's failings, deep down, he intensely desired these cultivation texts. Since witnessing Luo Yinglong's formidable power and the terrifying might of the Hu Po Blade, his longing for cultivation techniques had grown day by day. Unlocking the Gene Lock required fate and talent, but if he could master the methods for wielding demonic artifacts now, the power of the Hu Po Blade would instantly multiply several times over, perhaps more. Then, he would certainly have the confidence to contend with his clone! Zheng Zha covered the hundred-meter distance in a single stride.

He shot into the pavilion like lightning. The instant he crossed the threshold, he felt a thin, water-like membrane rush toward him. For a split second, it felt as if he were moving through water, but this sensation was extremely brief. As the watery film enveloped him entirely, it vanished immediately.

The surrounding space returned to normal once more.

(Could this be a restriction set by a cultivator? A test for the race of those who enter?) A thought stirred in Zheng Zha’s mind, the only possibility he could conceive. However, his gaze was instantly locked down; he was utterly captivated by the miraculous scene before him.

From the outside, the pavilion appeared ancient and elegant, but within, it was filled with an aura of hyper-science fiction... except the sci-fi elements were familiar to Zheng Zha.

The entire pavilion was divided into three levels, and each level was further split into four major sectors, corresponding to the symbols of the Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, White Tiger, and Black Tortoise.

These four massive, luminous symbols were composed entirely of three-dimensional light screens, resembling holographic cinema far surpassing modern technology. Their forms were incredibly vivid. In fact, Zheng Zha felt that if he hadn't been of East Asian descent, these four luminous figures might have attacked him the moment he stepped inside—that feeling struck him the instant he saw them.

Within these four images, the eight symbols of the Bagua rotated ceaselessly, looking like solid entities made of materialized light.

That profound and indescribable spectacle was more mystical than the high-tech displays in science fiction movies. Within the Bagua symbols, which were already tangible light constructs, were rows upon rows of palm-sized crystal shards.

Every shard was exquisitely transparent, reflecting the glow of the Bagua patterns, appearing as if pulled from a dream.

Zheng Zha stared blankly at the spectacle. In his imagination, so-called cultivation should have been an exceedingly archaic pursuit, whether concerning techniques, flying swords, or artifact refinement. Practitioners of cultivation, and the skills they learned, should all embody that ancient simplicity—living in dwellings of green bamboo, sipping light, fragrant immortal tea, and wearing Hanfu robes.

That was the cultivation world of his mind. Yet, looking at this pavilion, while the exterior was indeed an ancient structure, the interior was indescribably high-tech. He then noticed that even the floor was constructed from runic diagrams, within which flowed a glowing energy like liquid starlight. The entire pattern of runes formed a perfect Nine Palaces chart.

“Damn it, is this cultivation or high-tech nonsense? The technological level here is simply too absurd!” Zheng Zha stood there like a country bumpkin lost in a grand garden, stunned by everything he saw. For a long time, he couldn't snap out of it until a deafening crash from behind jarred him back to reality. Without hesitation, Zheng Zha bolted into the White Tiger sector. He immediately raised his storage ring toward the crystal shards, but after channeling his internal energy, the shards refused to be drawn in. After trying two or three times, Zheng Zha finally gave up that notion. He had originally planned to sweep all tens of thousands of these crystal shards into his ring or spatial pouch—that speed would have been entirely sufficient. But if that wasn't possible... never mind whether he had the speed to clear tens of thousands of shards in one sweep, did he even have tens of thousands of hands to carry them all? “...Forget it! Take as much as I can!” Zheng Zha hardened his resolve. He tore strips from his own remaining clothes and began stuffing the crystal shards onto the cloth strips while bare-skinned. But after loading only a few, he suddenly realized this was the first floor; logically, the items on the higher floors would be more precious. Since he could only take a few shards, why bother with the lowest-tier items? Realizing this, Zheng Zha hastily tossed the shards aside, pushed off with his feet, and rushed upward. His speed was incredible; using "Shave" and "Moonwalk," he reached the edge of the second floor in mere seconds. What greeted his eyes was not the layout of the first floor. The second level appeared as a clearly delineated Taiji diagram. In the black half, there was a spot brighter than any other; in the white half, there was a spot darker than any other. This interplay of white within dark and dark within white formed the unmistakable image of the Taiji. The entire second floor was arranged in this circular configuration. Deep within, Zheng Zha vaguely sensed True Essence energy flowing in the white section, and Demonic Energy flowing in the black section. The two energies flowed harmoniously, unlike the volatile and dangerous state they were in when contained within Zheng Zha’s body.

The second floor contained no crystal shards, but rather finger-sized, elongated diamonds suspended in the void. The diamonds on the Demonic Energy side pulsed with white light, while those on the True Essence side flashed with black light. These diamonds floated within the faint energy streams, resembling countless stars.

Zheng Zha could not afford to linger and admire the spectacle. The loud noises from outside were growing louder, and strange roars were echoing from the distant periphery—sounds that were definitely not human. The situation was dire. He only had time to snatch a few black diamonds and a few white ones before kicking off again toward the third floor. When he ascended to the third level, what met his eyes was not something that might contain recorded information. What met his eyes... was a continuous row of Magical Artifacts! By now, the land outside the pavilion had completely fractured, and its descent was accelerating. Conversely, the time Imhotep needed to bring everyone to safety above and then fly back down was growing longer. When only Chu Xuan, Zhang Heng, Wang Xia, and Zhao Yingkong remained, the land was still a thousand meters above the magma, and Imhotep was even farther away. If they fell into the magma without protective gear, the group was essentially doomed... As for the combat, the colossal mass of flesh had expanded to an unimaginable size. If compared to the initial form of the First God standing upright, it would have been at least a thousand meters tall. In its current fleshy state, gazing out, the area surrounding and within the plaza was a vast, endless sea of flesh. The churning movement of the mass was both repulsive and terrifying.

For the four of them, Zhang Heng was already exhausted to the point where he lacked the strength to draw his bow. A normal person firing a metal bow would be spent after ten shots; yet, he had loosed hundreds of arrows, some incorporating skills. If he could still fight, his endurance would be considered miraculous. As he fired his final volley of the 'Volley Arrow' skill and collapsed backward, Wang Xia immediately shielded him, using the remaining strength of the three to guard him.

By comparison, Wang Xia was much better suited for this kind of battle. He used solid explosives, requiring only demonic power for control and amplification, consuming minimal stamina and demonic energy, yet achieving powerful destruction against the flesh mass. It was precisely his use of the miniature nuclear bomb attack that had temporarily suppressed the flesh's infinite proliferation. Of course, after the miniature nuclear bombs were expended, the mass resumed its frantic reproduction. Within another thirty seconds at most, the flesh mass would likely completely engulf the plaza, either devouring them or sending them plummeting into the magma below.

Chu Xuan’s power of Belief had also been active for some time. While its destructive effect was less than Wang Xia's, through its force conversion, it had managed to erect an invisible wall blocking the flesh mass's path. It wasn't until the wall was breached by the mass’s endless regeneration that the advance continued; otherwise, the plaza would have been overrun long ago, and they wouldn't have lasted this long. However, as the power of Belief was sustained, Chu Xuan's hair began to gradually turn white, and wrinkles appeared on his face; his life force was being steadily depleted until he reached his natural end... The most frustrated among the four was Zhao Yingkong. In her close-combat mode, facing this infinitely proliferating mass, which also possessed intense corrosiveness, she could neither engage it hand-to-hand nor attack it from a distance. Although her twin greatswords came with innate skills, she had already unleashed them along with the Flash Spirit Vacuum Wave when the invisible wall broke. It was her action then that repelled the flesh mass, followed by Wang Xia using the last miniature nuclear bomb to strike it, stabilizing the situation. However, after that, her utility dwindled to near insignificance.

Watching the flesh mass draw ever closer, while Imhotep was still at least a thousand meters away, and the drop height to the magma was also about a thousand meters—as this final precipice approached... the distant pavilion suddenly erupted in a thousand beams of azure light, then split into two sections from its center, mingling with the collapse of the surrounding land... The pavilion finally began to crumble!