The mire and the foul waters mixed; the swamp held a preponderance of viscous mud, possessing an extremely tenacious quality.

Once a beast or person fell into the swamp, they would slowly sink, eventually being swallowed by the mire, becoming a corpse at the bottom, unnoticed, gradually decaying.

The terror of the Silent Swamp lay in its omnipresence. Hundreds upon hundreds of swamps had swallowed countless martial artists and demonic beasts, ensuring that passing beasts, martial artists, and mercenaries met their demise within.

Juaqi was an anomaly.

As a hybrid of a Mire-Jiao and human, he was naturally able to traverse beneath the swamp and manipulate the muddy silt.

Within the Silent Swamp, even when encountering martial artists stronger than himself, Juaqi could calmly conceal himself deep within the mire, thereby evading disaster.

For the longest time, Juaqi had been perfectly at ease in the Silent Swamp, never holding anyone in high regard.

But this time, deep beneath the swamp, Juaqi’s expression was one of sheer horror, appearing quite disheveled.

Streaks of acrid, bloody aura, sharp as needles, seemed like crimson dragons boring down hundreds of meters beneath the swamp floor.

The blood energy possessed extreme penetrative power and a frightening, astonishing strength, as if locking onto him even a hundred meters down, forcing him into a desperate retreat.

Having lived in the Silent Swamp for so many years, Juaqi knew well that the deeper one went, the heavier the corrosive death qi became.

The Silent Swamp had existed for tens of thousands of years, burying unknown numbers of departed souls. The souls of those who died here, unable to find release, perpetually roamed the deep mire.

Consequently, the depths harbored an incredibly dense necrotic soul-qi, which grew heavier the further down one went. This energy could isolate divine sense probes and obstruct the intrusion of all manner of strange powers.

Even Juaqi, were it not for his innate ability to control the silt, would not dare descend so deeply.

Now, those sharp, blood-scented auras had penetrated several hundred meters below the swamp floor.

That they could pursue him so effortlessly, even amidst the thick soul-qi, truly terrified Juaqi.

For the first time, he smelled the scent of death.

Fear gripping him, Juaqi abandoned all thought of Shi Yan and rapidly sank further into the swamp’s depths.

Splash.

Shi Yan suddenly burst out of the mud hole.

The silt descended like a crushing mountain range, pressing down upon his head. Shi Yan’s entire body was engulfed in the muck; unable to breathe or see, he exerted every ounce of strength to swim upward toward the surface.

The swamp possessed a peculiar trait: the harder one struggled, the faster they sank. Even a hundred meters down, this trait persisted.

Struggling, Shi Yan felt as if he were caught in a silt vortex; not only could he not break free, but he was sinking even faster.

A chill pierced his heart. He abruptly ceased all movement of his limbs, holding his breath, suspended in the deep mire. Flashes of insight illuminated his mind as he rapidly sought a way to ascend beyond the swamp.

Beneath the swamp, he could neither breathe nor see, and a strange necrotic soul-qi seemed to be constantly eroding his body.

In this state, he knew he would suffocate and die before long.

As thoughts flashed through his mind, deep within the mire, he suddenly sensed the surrounding worldly Yin energy surfacing nearby.

As the Yin energy appeared, Shi Yan quickly recognized the negative force he had previously unleashed.

A spark of realization hit him. Shi Yan hurriedly activated the three forces within his body, using Yin power to refine Essence within the swamp. The negative force constructed a Magnetic-Ravage Field.

The Magnetic-Ravage Field was a peculiar, invisible, and intangible magnetic field that could form in open air or within the sludge-filled mire.

As soon as the field stabilized, Shi Yan immediately channeled it, manipulating the field to envelop himself.

His consciousness immersed within the field, Shi Yan carefully controlled it, causing the field to rotate slowly.

The interweaving of the forces created a crushing, shearing power. The multitude of silt particles pouring into the field were caught in the field's destructive rotation and began slowly floating upward toward the surface.

It worked!

Shi Yan was overjoyed, immediately focusing all his attention on controlling the Magnetic-Ravage Field. His body rose along with it, gradually surging toward the swamp’s surface.

Poof!

One minute later.

From a patch of mire on the swamp surface, a figure suddenly shot out. The figure ascended slowly into the air and hovered for a meter beneath the cold moonlight before abruptly plummeting.

“Shi Yan!”

Xia Xinyan gasped, her hands swiftly forming a Lotus Treasure Seal. A massive, watery-blue lotus flew forth from her palm, halting directly beneath Shi Yan.

The plummeting Shi Yan landed squarely on the cool lotus blossom, which carried him slowly out of the mire, setting him down beside Xia Xinyan.

“Hoo!”

Xia Xinyan softly exhaled, pressing her palms together in a gesture of deep reverence.

The lotus that had caught Shi Yan from above dissolved into specks of light, like fireflies, drilling back into her palm until they vanished completely.

“Are you injured?” Shi Yan frowned, looking at her.

Xia Xinyan’s eyes were weary. Her earlobes, visible outside her veil, were pale and bloodless, suggesting her face likely mirrored the pallor.

“It’s the after-effect of using the Samsara Martial Treasure, but fortunately, I have taken the Heaven Mending Pill from your Yang family. I should recover by tomorrow,” Xia Xinyan stated coolly, flicking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“Our Yang family?” Shi Yan looked stunned and spoke gravely, “What are you talking about?”

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Distant roars echoed from the sky, immense and terrifying, like mountains collapsing into the earth.

Shi Yan looked up.

Beneath the thick cloud cover, a majestic man, his face covered in crisscrossing scars, hovered arrogantly in the void.

Beside him materialized three rivers of blood, each thousands of meters long and hundreds of meters wide, moving swiftly through the sky, inflicting a deep shock upon the soul.

One river was filled with dense, viscous blood, overflowing with malignant, baleful qi.

The man, his expression ferocious, stood where the two blood rivers converged, his hands seemingly controlling the rivers, twisting them at will. The blood rivers functioned like colossal, razor-sharp crimson chains, driving the person in the sky to a state of utter distress.

Bei Mingshang, Fei Bangzi, He Fei, and the Dark Lord An Ming were all within the two blood rivers, exerting their innate Heaven-Ranked powers to resist the encroachment of the rivers.

The man controlling one terrifying river of blood still had the excess energy to shoot out streaks of blood-light. These beams fell into the swamp below, forcing Juaqi, who was already deep within, to flee further down to a depth of a thousand meters to seek refuge.

The scar-faced man, utilizing four minds simultaneously—engaging Bei Mingshang, An Zhu, Gong, and Juaqi, four Heaven-Rank experts—still maintained the upper hand, leaving all four looking wretched.

Behind the man floated giant hound-bats, each seven or eight meters long, their eyes cruel and bloodthirsty.

Riding these bats were martial artists with cold, severe, and ruthless expressions, silently observing the conflict above, seemingly ready to intervene at any moment.

“Who is this person?” Shi Yan asked, aghast. Since arriving on the Divine Grace Continent, this was the first time he had witnessed such a terrifying martial artist.

“One of the Yang family’s Great Asura Kings, Xiao Hanyi, possessing the cultivation of the second heaven of the Heaven Rank, practicing the Blood Fiend Dao from the Five Asura Paths,” Xia Xinyan replied, her expression complex.

“Our Yang family?” Shi Yan shook his head, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You will understand soon enough,” Xia Xinyan said lightly. She suddenly let out a soaring cry toward the sky: “Lord Qing, Shi Yan has emerged from the swamp—he is fine!”

“You five, descend and protect Young Master Yan.”

Xiao Hanyi gazed deeply at Shi Yan from above, a flicker of pleasant surprise crossing his pupils before he commanded the Asura Blood Guards behind him.

Even a mere glance from that man sent a shiver through Shi Yan’s core.

That person’s gaze was like a divine weapon, capable of piercing directly into one's soul, as if towering mountains were bearing down from the heavens, instilling a terrifying sense of awe that made resistance seem impossible.

Whoosh, whoosh.

A squadron of Azure Blood Demon Bats flew down, stopping around Shi Yan. Five Asura Guards, riding the bats, surrounded Shi Yan in the center.

“Young Master Yan!”

Fifty voices, saturated with killing intent, roared out from the martial artists mounted on the Demon Bats. These fifty individuals, whose realms spanned the Heaven Rank to the Nirvana Nest stage, looked at him with solemn expressions.

Shi Yan was startled, his face a mask of confusion, wondering when he had become their 'Young Master' again.

“Miss Xia, what exactly is going on?” Shi Yan asked, completely bewildered.

“The Asura King will explain it to you personally later. I won't elaborate,” Xia Xinyan replied, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed. “The words I spoke to you before are now void. The Yang family will arrange your future; I will not overstep my bounds.”

She was referring to the previous arrangement where Shi Yan was supposed to join the Xia family and integrate into the Divine Sect.

Shi Yan’s confusion deepened. He couldn't understand why Xia Xinyan had suddenly become so amenable. He instinctively looked up toward the sky, fixing his gaze on the terrifying, scarred man.

“Hmm?” After just one glance, Shi Yan couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.

In the sky, Bei Mingshang had become an ice sculpture, entirely enveloped by frigid, ethereal flames, rapidly flying southward.

Bei Mingshang fled?

Once Bei Mingshang left, the pressure on the Dark Lord and the Dark Master increased. They did not linger either, also speeding toward the south, unwilling to continue battling that man.

The Dark Lord and Dark Master felt immense pressure, and while fleeing, they dared not separate from Bei Mingshang, lest they be left alone and slain by that man.

“Jie jie—none of you will escape!” Xiao Hanyi’s expression was ferocious, like a vengeful spirit, controlling a terrifying crimson river of blood and chasing directly after one of them.

“I want to go see,” Shi Yan suddenly stated.

“Young Master Yan, please come up. I will take you,” a martial artist at the Nirvana Nest stage bowed deeply, inviting him onto his Azure Blood Demon Bat.

Shi Yan didn't stand on ceremony, leaping directly onto the bat and grasping one of its long, slender ears.

“Go! Keep up with Lord Xiao!” the rider shouted. The Azure Blood Demon Bat, carrying him and Shi Yan, abruptly took to the sky, ignoring Xia Xinyan below, and flew directly toward the direction Xiao Hanyi was headed.

“Eh?” Chi Xiao cried out in alarm, looking up at the sky and shouting, “Bei Mingshang!”

There, the Patriarch of the Bei Ming family in Heavenfall City was spitting blood from the corner of his mouth as he fled miserably over their heads, unmistakable panic in his eyes.

Behind him, the Dark Lord of Dark Underworld and Dark Shadow were also looking haggard, fleeing as if being hunted by some terrifying monstrosity.

Mu Yudie and Di Yalan watched the sky with similar shock and awe.

Not long after, the two women saw Xiao Hanyi charging up like a demon god, controlling a river of blood.

Both women stared blankly, their hearts stirred with a medley of emotions.

“Ah!” Di Yalan suddenly screamed.

She saw Shi Yan, seated upon an Azure Blood Demon Bat.