The seismic activity beneath Coffin Mountain was unusual; it didn't possess the grinding, vein-shattering force of the Jiusi Jingling Jia tearing through the bedrock. Strangely, the intense pressure from the bronze-armored swarm seemed less violent than before.

Though I vaguely sensed this shift, I couldn't grasp the full implication. Was it some supernatural phenomenon Irley Yang had mentioned previously? It wasn't until Sun Jiuye made a series of gestures that the truth dawned on me—the true disaster facing Earth Immortal Village was far more terrifying than earthquakes or landslides.

I couldn't fathom how Sun Jiuye had figured it out, but amidst the chaos of shaking earth and tumbling mountains, I could only surmise that he was trying to tell us the mountain's tremors were caused by a massive flood.

In the Coffin Gorge relic area of the Qingxi Mountains, there lay the ancient ruins of vast salt-mining caverns, dug out over millennia, honeycombing the mountain's interior like an anthill. Over the past few centuries, the deeply buried Jiusi Jingling Jia had proliferated, drilling and excavating the rock and soil around Coffin Mountain until large sections were hollowed out.

Compounding this instability, Coffin Gorge had always been prone to flash floods, leaving the valley saturated with water. During today's most violent tremor—the same moment the coffin worms swarmed out of Earth Immortal Village—the rock strata, already fragmented by the Jiusi Jingling Jia, finally buckled and collapsed. Several subterranean water veins, along with massive amounts of rainwater collected within the mountain during the wet season, erupted like surging, roaring dragons, blasting against the entire mountain mass with earth-shattering force from above.

The rock layers surrounding Coffin Mountain were a dense tangle of overlapping mine shafts and natural caves. The rock strata between these various tunnels and shafts were incredibly fragile, utterly incapable of resisting the surging undercurrents that now propelled the shifting Coffin Mountain.

In the face of this overwhelming natural power, Coffin Mountain was like a floating coffin adrift in a flood. Pushed by the fierce current, it smashed through the weak rock layers blocking its path, threatening to be swept into the gorge. If the mountain proved sturdy enough, it might even drift all the way to the Yangtze River.

The ceaseless erosion of the earth veins by the Jiusi Jingling Jia had rerouted the subterranean water, causing Coffin Mountain to move under the torrent's impact. The mountain body shattered layer after layer of weak rock walls, piercing through several caverns like Wuyang fording a river, until its final entry into the gorge would trigger its complete collapse. This felt like a journey guided by the God of Death, with the final destination being the site of the ultimate catastrophe. But just how far would the river carry Coffin Mountain and Earth Immortal Village? No one could possibly estimate that distance; we only knew that for every meter the mountain moved, we drew one meter closer to death.

Though Sun Jiuye couldn't articulate a clear explanation, Irley Yang and I weren't entirely dense. His mention of the water currents in the gorge was like punching a hole in a paper screen—our understanding finally turned the corner, and the rest of the implications followed unspoken.

Initially, we had devised various scenarios for the Corpse Immortals emerging from Earth Immortal Village, but each possibility seemed remote, almost impossible to justify. The one thing we never considered was the physical relocation of Coffin Mountain itself. According to legends dating back to the era of the Wuyang King, the Corpse Immortals of the Pangu could attach themselves to the bodies of the dead and living. Buried underground, they preserved the deceased from decay. However, once removed from the auspicious, divine sanctuary of the Pangu, the bodies possessed by these Corpse Immortals would spread pestilence, killing countless people and livestock. The once-dominant shamanistic culture had fallen precisely because of its entanglement with this phenomenon.

But now, with Coffin Mountain being ripped from its foundations by the raging undercurrent, would the reality unfold as foretold in the celestial omens—with all the dead of Earth Immortal Village scattering to the four winds, transforming the world into a land of corpse mountains and seas of blood? Could this "supernatural phenomenon," even more incredible than a mountain moving underground, truly manifest in the Wushan Coffin Gorge?

I understood that all change resulted from the combined action of internal and external causes. The Guanshan Taibao had spoken of divine matters, and the arrangements within Earth Immortal Village were truly bizarre. From deciphering the Guanshan Zhimifui to the current revelation, it seemed that nothing was beyond possibility anymore.

At this thought, anger flared in my chest. I secretly resolved that even if it meant being utterly destroyed, I would not let the Corpse Immortals out of Coffin Mountain. The ancient Feng Shigu’s meticulous plan to achieve immortality after death might have been understandable in ancient society. But Feng Shigu clearly felt the number of people accompanying him in death was insufficient. In the path of Shasheng Dao, he used "Calamity of Slaughter" to save people, never caring how many died—taking one or two lives was shockingly real, but when the death toll rose to a million or two, it became merely a numbing statistic.

To have one's corpse emerge centuries after death to bring about the Calamity of Slaughter—only a lunatic like Feng Shigu would conceive such a thing. Yet, affirming the saying that geniuses are often madmen, I had to admit that only an extraordinary figure like Feng Shigu could control the ancient tomb within Coffin Mountain.

The five of us were crammed into a narrow crevice beneath the cliff face, a space originally meant for housing suspended coffins. It was far smaller than a typical tomb chamber. With wave after wave of tremors shaking the mountain, we were completely immobilized, anxiously leaving our fate to the heavens.

We endured this for what felt like centuries, though it might have only been a short while. Coffin Mountain and the torrent erupting from behind it seemed to have blasted through several rock layers ahead; the earthquake-like shaking gradually subsided, leaving only the continuous, rumbling sound of water echoing in our ears.

I poked my head out of the crevice tomb to look around. Earth Immortal Village was pitch black, suggesting the moving mountain mass hadn't broken through to the surface yet. Suddenly, an agonizingly sharp sound erupted from the cliff face—like countless metal spikes rapidly scraping against rock—completely overwhelming the sound of the rushing water and instantly making our ears ring violently. We quickly covered our ears and opened our mouths, trying to lessen the nerve-wracking pain, but the sound seemed tangible, drilling into us from all directions. I immediately stuffed my ears and tumbled out of the safety of the crevice. The others followed, their faces ashen, as if their very souls had been shattered by the metallic screech. But because Coffin Mountain was box-like and canyon-shaped, echoing everywhere, the situation didn't improve once we left the narrow crack.

Fortunately, this intense grinding sound ended as quickly as it began. In less than a moment, the sharp noise dulled into a "ka-chong, ka-chong" sound, and the mountain’s trembling resumed.

Everyone knew those noises were the Jiusi Jingling Jia, and while terrifying, we didn't know what omen they signified. The ringing in my ears had stopped, and we could barely hear each other speaking loudly face-to-face. Irley Yang pointed to the dark sky and asked me, "That noise just now... did all the Jiusi Jingling Jia die?"

I nodded. That was possible. The Jiusi Jingling Jia were said to be 'i-blood plants' that thrived deep underground, their roots inextricably linked to ancient bronze artifacts spanning three generations. They could not survive if detached from the earth veins; otherwise, they would immediately wither and die. As Coffin Mountain was thrust from its position by the undercurrent, the bronze corrosion tightly gripping the mountain walls, though powerful, couldn't prevent the mountain’s subterranean movement. Judging by the sound, it was highly likely they had been violently ripped free from the soil.

Sun Jiuye interjected, "Let's put our grievances aside for now. This Coffin Mountain has been uprooted. It will certainly be washed into the gorge by the water next. We might still have a little time left to stop the Corpse Immortals from leaving the ancient tomb. Once this mountain floats into the great gorge, it will all be over..."

Fatty, unwilling to listen to Sun Jiuye’s rambling, grabbed his entrenching tool, intending to bring it down on the old man's head again. I stopped him, reasoning that impatience hinders great deeds. Moreover, even if we hacked Sun Jiuye to pieces, the impending disaster was inevitable. The immediate priority was to find a way to change the "fate" already decreed in the celestial signs.

The mountain's violent rocking made standing difficult, so I had everyone lean against the wall, trying to devise a strategy quickly. Ideas flashed through my mind—whether to flee or try to stop Earth Immortal Village from reaching the gorge—but the first step was understanding our current situation. Only by knowing ourselves and our enemy could we have a chance; blind action would only backfire.

The situation was more bizarre than anything imaginable. After escaping the bronze artifacts that spawned the Jiusi Jingling Jia, Coffin Mountain was being slammed by the torrent, rushing through subterranean caverns with a constant rumble. The mountain violently pitched and rolled, but the surrounding rock layers proved surprisingly solid, showing no immediate signs of fracturing or collapsing.

The dead bronze armor, like layers of desiccated bronze cocoons wrapped around everything, moved rapidly with the mountain. Although Coffin Mountain had no stone lid, it was covered by the copper net formed by the Jingling Jia. Debris from the subterranean collapse fell into the mountain intermittently, and most of the structures in Earth Immortal Village remained intact.

Yet, amidst the constant jolting and impacts, even taking a few steps felt like climbing to heaven. What could be done in this scenario? Recalling Irley Yang's earlier analogy, the immense disaster looming from Earth Immortal Village was like the final chapter of a completed novel; the characters within could absolutely not alter the predetermined conclusion. But I felt fate was more like an invisible shackle—intangible, yet impossible to break, smash, or shake off. No matter how hard we struggled, the outcome would remain unchanged.

The result of Earth Immortal Village entering the great gorge wasn't the most terrifying part. What terrified me was being caught within the event, knowing the final outcome was catastrophic, yet being utterly powerless to stop it. Though I usually accepted things as they came, I now felt profoundly small and helpless, sinking deep into despair.

Just as we were at a complete loss, Coffin Mountain, which had been shaking violently, suddenly lurched hard. Though we couldn't see outside, it felt as if we were wedged in a narrow section of the underground cavern.

Everyone felt dizzy, their bones nearly dislocated, their hearts pounding furiously. The mountain suddenly stopped its world-shaking movement, and everyone felt an immense relief, collapsing onto the ground, unable to move.

But in the blink of an eye, a chaotic crunching sound erupted from directly above us. Coffin Mountain had stopped mid-transit; the Jiusi Jingling Jia wrapped around the top were caught on the underground rock strata, while the undertow behind the mountain continued to push forward. In the swirling gloom, the dead bronze armor fragments were suddenly scraped off by the rock, falling down like a deadly rain of arrows from overhead.

It was pitch black inside the mountain. One of the first fragments to fall was as thick as a spearhead and grazed my face before embedding itself in the ground. Another broken barb fell and pierced the backpack behind me. The others were nearly pinned to the earth as well. Aided by the beam of my tactical flashlight, I saw clearly: the section of bronze armor stuck in front of me, though dead, retained its sharp, hard barbs, capable of inflicting a fatal wound upon impact.

Before anyone could recover from the shock, the sound of shattering and breaking bronze armor overhead intensified almost instantly. More barbs snapped off and rained down, whistling past us. In moments of life-or-death crisis, latent human strength can be unleashed. Though nearly exhausted, driven by instinct, we suddenly found a surge of energy, struggling to rise from the ground, desperate to crawl back toward the crevice we had hidden in earlier.

Sun Jiuye yelled, "Why hide? Since it's fated that the Corpse Immortals must emerge, it's hard to die now. Even if the heavens collapsed, it wouldn't fall on us..."

His words cut off abruptly. I saw the other three had already scrambled back toward the cliff fissure. Hearing a strange tone in Sun Jiuye's voice, I quickly turned back to look at him. A copper barb falling from above had impaled him, pinning him to the ground. He stared blankly at the barb piercing him, seemingly unable to believe what he was seeing.

Seeing Sun Jiuye skewered and held fast by the armor, Irley Yang, silent, bolted out of the crevice, intending to risk his life to save him.

Seeing this, veins popped out on my forehead in anxiety. I tried to reach out and stop Irley Yang, but my hand grasped empty air. I hurried to follow, staying just two or three steps behind. As the constant sound of breaking Jiusi Jingling Jia fell from above, I quickly deployed the Vajra Umbrella over my head as a shield, warding off the larger clusters of falling bronze armor.

By then, Irley Yang had yanked the barb out of Sun Jiuye’s shoulder. The barb was covered in barbs itself; pulling it out tore away flesh and bone fragments. Blood splattered everywhere, coating our faces and bodies, yet Sun Jiuye endured the pain without uttering a sound.

We had no time to examine Sun Jiuye’s wound. Taking advantage of the lull in the falling armor fragments, we called Fatty and Yaomei’er to the opening to assist. They half-carried, half-dragged Sun Jiuye back into the crevice where the suspended coffins were kept.

Fatty grumbled resentfully, "Old Hu, are you tired of living? You almost gave your lives for this old Sun bastard... Was it worth it?"

I wiped the blood from my face and vaguely replied to Fatty, "This venture is a total loss anyway. No point in losing a little more. As long as we stay alive, we’ll get what’s owed back sooner or later. Think of this as giving a loan with high interest right now."

Irley Yang, however, said, "It's not that simple. I saved Professor Sun because I suddenly realized a blind spot: what is 'destined to happen' might not be what we imagine. We’ve all been misled by the prisoners confined in the stone cells of the Earth Immortal Tomb."