Feng Zikang and Huo Zhongguang each spurred their magical weapons toward the Dragon-Tiger Mountain Secret Realm.

The so-called Secret Realm was essentially equivalent to what Daoists called a Grotto-Heaven or Blessed Land—a place where the spiritual energy of heaven and earth converged, separated from the outside world by impassable chasms. It served as a residence for Daoist cultivators, thus becoming a Grotto-Heaven.

However, the Military School’s Secret Realm was a place steeped in violent killing intent, disrupting the natural order to form its own universe. Yet, for Military School practitioners, it was also a blessed ground that aided their cultivation. When formidable Military School seniors, like Ye Tiansheng, entered seclusion, they would communicate with heaven and earth, burrowing into the Secret Realm like bees entering a hive to cultivate.

It was just that before reaching the Foundation Establishment stage, both the Dao Heart and the Dao Body remained too fragile to remain in the Secret Realm for extended periods, which necessitated the existence of various mortal realms for lower-tier disciples to practice.

The magical weapon Huo Zhongguang was currently wielding was vastly different from the serrated long saber from before; it was now an Emei—a pair of prongs that continuously emitted a dark, ominous light, flickering in and out of sight in the night, utterly unpredictable.

“Looks like a Yellow-rank, sixth-grade magical weapon. Quite the upgrade…” Feng Zikang smiled faintly, showing no fear. Even if Huo Zhongguang was stronger today, he stood no chance whatsoever!

The two martial brothers, each harboring secret intentions, passed through the barrier of the Secret Realm. Feng Zikang immediately felt an overwhelming surge of killing intent flooding the wilderness, making his breathing slightly labored. The turbulent airflow forced him slightly, causing him to lose his footing on the iron sword, his body swaying uncontrollably.

Huo Zhongguang observed this and felt completely reassured.

He had managed to strike down Liang Si’an, who was at the Foundation Establishment stage, after all, relying on his own cultivation at the peak of Great Perfection in Qi Attraction. The gap between them was negligible. With Junior Brother Feng’s mere fourth-level Qi Attraction skill, what could he possibly do, even with some divine abilities?

“Junior Brother Feng, the entrance to the Demon Realm is just ahead. Today is the opening time, and the demonic energy is thick. All the disciples guarding the mountain have retreated. We must be careful as well!”

Demonic energy clinging to the body was like a persistent bone-deep ailment, difficult to shake off casually. Thus, the disciples originally tasked with guarding the Demon Realm entrance had all departed early tonight.

In this age, with Daoists vastly outnumbering demons, who would willingly enter the Demon Realm to become a great devil? Furthermore, even if ordinary people managed to find a way in, they would not survive more than a few hours. Even if they miraculously survived, they might not learn the demonic arts, and even if they mastered supreme demonic magic, they might never get the chance to return to the human world.

What was the point of such a gamble? Therefore, the Military School of Dragon-Tiger Mountain had grown lax in guarding the Demon Realm entrance year after year.

But if Huo Zhongguang was truly a successor of the demonic path, his thoughts would naturally differ greatly from ordinary people. Master Chan had painstakingly persuaded several elders to set up an ambush formation here.

Feng Zikang laughed loudly, retracting his sword light and descending to the ground. He used his iron sword to cleave a path through the demonic qi and moved forward slowly.

Huo Zhongguang secretly nodded. This junior brother knew how to hide his true strength. Flying was disadvantageous here, so he didn't force it, preferring to walk slowly on the ground. He could never quite fathom his ultimate trump card, which was a smart way for an intelligent person to ensure self-preservation. However, since he had arrived here today, he couldn’t afford to hold back anymore!

He, too, landed, with flares of radiant light erupting around him, warding off the demonic energy.

This maneuver consumed a significant amount of internal energy, but here, where the demonic nature was dense, Huo Zhongguang felt utterly refreshed, as if bathing in warm water. The power within his body felt inexhaustible, filling him with immense joy.

The entrance to the Demon Realm was still some distance away, and it was already like this. What would it be like once inside?

His gaze burned with fervor as he stared at Feng Zikang’s retreating back, gripping the Emei in his hand tighter.

The Demon Realm entrance was still a hundred paces away.

Vaguely visible within the darkness was a layer of even more profound darkness, like the pupil of an eye, radiating a sinister, crystalline black light, full of allure and attraction.

Huo Zhongguang swallowed hard and followed Feng Zikang’s steady pace.

Fifty paces.

Forty paces.

Thirty paces.

Feng Zikang suddenly stopped and turned back.

Huo Zhongguang felt a sudden tightness in his chest, deeply regretting that his junior brother had halted his advance.

“Junior Brother, what is it now?”

“Senior Brother, I find this place exceedingly strange. I fear there might be something unclean here. Perhaps we should return!”

Pretend! I’ll show you pretending!

Huo Zhongguang felt a surge of anger, almost cursing him aloud. This junior brother had clearly proposed coming here to see what the Demon Realm entrance looked like. Now, at the critical moment, he was putting on the act of an innocent lamb. What was the meaning of this?

There were no outsiders here, so why keep up the charade!

Feng Zikang truly was acting. Huo Zhongguang assumed no other outsiders were present, but Feng Zikang knew that several experts at the Core Condensation stage were lurking in the air above, ready to unleash a devastating formation. Of course, he needed to keep himself clean.

Huo Zhongguang glared at him fiercely, then moved forward with a show of false reassurance. “No matter, let me take a look!”

He continued walking forward without stopping. Feng Zikang followed close behind, a cryptic smile flickering across his lips.

Twenty paces.

Ten paces.

This time, it was Huo Zhongguang who suddenly stopped.

He froze, appearing deep in thought.

“Senior Brother, have you found something?” Feng Zikang knew his intent but still asked feignedly.

Huo Zhongguang turned his face toward him. The dark-glowing Emei was hidden behind his back, only the minute tip showing a faint glint of its edge, appearing eerie and terrifying under the moonlight.

“Junior Brother, I have been wondering…”

“Hm?”

“With so many abilities at your disposal, why did you play the fool for six years… What hidden trump cards haven’t you used? And how were you able to slay Wudunya and shake the world?”

His expression seemed one of confusion, but his tone was not one of inquiry.

It was merely self-muttering.

“I could never figure out these questions…”

“But today, I finally figured it out!”

“Oh?” Feng Zikang responded with a half-smile.

“For a dead man, none of that matters!”

Huo Zhongguang’s face shifted dramatically, turning savage and frenzied. Before his words finished, the dark-glowing Emei shot out of his hand, heading straight for Feng Zikang’s heart! Feng Zikang had long been prepared; he remained unhurried, lightly chanting an incantation. Suddenly, a sphere of golden Buddhist light flared up, enveloping his entire body!

“Hah! The Vajra Indestructible Divine Ability—what is that compared to this!”

Huo Zhongguang wore a vicious grin. The Emei tore through the air like an unstoppable force, accompanied by the sound of ripping silk. Upon contact with the golden light, it recoiled with a hiss, vanishing like snow in spring, offering no resistance whatsoever!

The spike plunged into Feng Zikang’s chest!

“You wicked fiend! Seeking death!”

In that very instant, the space around them was suddenly threaded with a dense network of golden lines, ensnaring them both. Feng Zikang, pierced through the chest, was tightly bound by these golden threads, which suddenly constricted, pulling him away to an unknown location.

Huo Zhongguang stood alone, rigid and unmoving, his face ashen.

He looked around in alarm, but the savage grin on his face had not faded.