The spacious stone hall was somber and seeped with a bone-chilling cold, thin wisps of deathly white Shi Qi coalescing into grimacing phantom faces that writhed around the massive pillars, as if the carvings upon them had sprung to horrifying life.

Five oil lamps hung upon the stone walls; their wicks burned with a sickly green flame, casting a dim, flickering light that suggested they might extinguish at any moment.

Directly opposite the stone wall, in a shadowy recess, a solitary figure stood motionless.

The person’s eyes were dull, their frame tall, and an intense miasma of Yin Qi clung to them, resembling a corpse that had long since passed into decay.

The moment Shi Yan entered the hall, he couldn't help but furrow his brow. As his divine sense spread outward, he detected not the slightest ripple of life, not a trace of a soul's breath.

No living person.

The figure standing blankly ahead was merely a Corpse Slave, its face ghastly pale, limbs rigid; its rank was likely not high.

Upon seeing Shi Yan and his entourage enter, the figure slowly rotated a hidden panel in the corner with a slow, deliberate movement. With a grating creak, the flagstone before Shi Yan suddenly retracted into the earth. Manipulated by some hidden mechanism or array, it slowly reorganized itself, solidifying into a flight of stone steps descending below.

The Corpse Slave remained impassive in its corner, utterly devoid of human emotion, and did not spare Shi Yan a glance; its sole duty seemed to be the activation of this passage leading underground.

Shi Yan’s expression remained unchanged. He nodded toward the three figures behind him—Yi Tianmo and the others—muttering under his breath, "Playing obscure games."

Then, he slowly trod onto the bluestone steps, descending step by deliberate step into the earth’s depths, determined to uncover the strangeness lurking below.

Although the Corpse God Sect was mysterious and its cultivation techniques horrifyingly wicked, Shi Yan harbored no excessive fear. After all, Yi Tianmo and the other two were all at the Divine Realm (Shenjing). Though their physical resilience might fall short of typical Divine Realm martial artists, their understanding of the soul was far deeper than that of the average sect member.

In combat, if the three acted in concert, no Divine Realm expert could emerge victorious with ease. He trusted that even a Divine Realm master whose level surpassed theirs by a whole tier would be forced into a humiliating retreat under their combined assault.

Potent soul suppression, at times, was far more terrifying than a direct physical blow.

With the protection of the trio behind him, let alone this being just a temporary base for the Corpse God Sect, even if it were their main headquarters, he would not hesitate.

Descending deeper and deeper underground, passing scores of zhang, Shi Yan still encountered no light whatsoever.

Fortunately, the three—Yi Tianmo and the others—remained close behind him, so he felt no panic, only subtly extending his divine sense to monitor surrounding changes and probe for any life force beneath.

Stomp!

His foot met solid ground in the pitch-black space where one could not see one’s hand before one’s face. Suddenly, faint green lights flickered into existence, shimmering like ghostly swamp gas suspended in the void, scattered and sparse, the dim illumination resembling malevolent spirits stealthily observing the surroundings.

A bone-chilling cold suddenly infiltrated the space, seeping in unnoticed, attempting to penetrate his body.

With a cold smile, Shi Yan immediately activated the residual searing fiery energy of the Sun’s Essence within him. This fiery essence quietly coursed through his body, incinerating every trace of the encroaching chill.

Boom!

A ball of emerald-green ghost fire erupted violently straight ahead.

As this orb ignited, continuous rivulets of verdant flame began sprouting from the vicinity. In mere moments, eighteen eerie little green lamps illuminated the space, their wicks wavering unpredictably. The flames spread, gradually revealing the vast cellar.

Coffins were lined up with perfect precision, lying flat and still within the confines of this subterranean chamber.

Thick Shi Qi flowed out from every single coffin. Tendrils of deathly white vapor whipped wildly throughout the cellar like the tentacles of Corpse Slaves, seemingly grasping for anything they could seize.

Threads of Shi Qi slowly drifted toward Shi Yan.

Shi Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he suddenly shouted coldly, "Come out!"

The searing fire originating from the Myriad Year Earth Core Fire erupted violently from within his body. In an instant, Shi Yan’s body became a source of flame; clusters of crimson embers stretched outward from his form like the branches of a great tree.

The tendrils of Shi Qi that had been winding toward him were instantly reduced to ash with a sharp hissing sound of white smoke, failing to penetrate his flesh in the slightest.

Figures suddenly plummeted from a mechanical opening somewhere above, each landing upon one of the coffins in the cellar.

Qing Ming, the leader of the Corpse God Sect, clad in loose black robes and wearing a fierce mask with azure fangs, perched atop the nearest coffin. His pair of emerald-green eyes swept over Shi Yan before he murmured in a drawn-out voice, "Are you from the Yang family?"

Yin Hai, positioned on the coffin immediately to Qing Man's left, covertly assessed Shi Yan, his gaze sharp and sinister.

"Something like that," Shi Yan nodded indifferently, closing his eyes to sense briefly before snapping them open to look at the two Yin Wood coffins beneath Yin Hai. He smiled, "I came here because of a connection to the Celestial Corpses within these two boxes. When I first arrived at Sun Island, these two Celestial Corpses were calling to me; I followed their summons to find this place."

"It really is you!"

Yin Hai’s expression changed drastically, his face darkening. He cackled mockingly, "You brat, back at Burial Ground Ninety-Three, by whatever trick you used, you bewildered my Celestial Corpses—making my two corpses turn on our own brethren! They ended up sheltering you while you escaped that burial site. Now that you're on Sun Island, you intend to exploit my two Celestial Corpses again, is that it? Heh heh. Today, as their master, I am on this very island. I should like to see how you plan to shake my control!"

"Yin Hai, silence!"

Qing Ming let out a low, stern reprimand, first halting Yin Hai’s incessant babbling. Then, his gaze grew solemn as he looked coldly at Shi Yan, his voice eerie and thin, "Back at that burial ground, were these two Celestial Corpses truly mobilized by your power, causing them to ignore Elder Yin Hai's commands, awaken from their slumber, and act according to your will?"

Shi Yan paused to consider, then nodded slowly. "Indeed."

Qing Man’s emerald eyes suddenly flashed with tiny wisps of flame. These flames seemed to possess a certain sentience, capable of resonating with the Shi Qi present here, granting the ability to control the Shi Qi within every Corpse Slave.

"Rise!"

Qing Ming turned, casting a cold glance at Yin Hai.

Yin Hai complied, flying to perch on the Yin Wood coffin of an elder beside him. The two Yin Wood coffins he had previously occupied were suddenly drawn by some unseen force, lifting into the air from nowhere. Enveloped in swirling, deathly white Shi Qi, they drifted slowly to a spot directly in front of Shi Yan, then slammed down hard.

The leader of the Corpse God Sect, Qing Ming, extended his left hand, clad in a white glove, and pointed toward the two Yin Wood coffins from a distance. With a tone imbued with special resonance, he commanded eerily, "Emerge."

Crash!

The lids of the two Yin Wood coffins flew open abruptly. The male and female Celestial Corpses—the same two Shi Yan had encountered at Burial Ground Ninety-Three—sat bolt upright. Their eyes were hollow, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, their bodies stiff and cold like puppets, giving the pervasive feeling of being perpetually controlled.

Shi Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"These two Celestial Corpses are the ones you saw before?" Qing Ming inquired softly.

Shi Yan nodded. "That's right. However, these two seem to be suppressed by some kind of force. The vital energy within their bodies has also been sealed. In their current state, they are merely dolls in your hands, utterly obedient to your command, incapable of harboring the slightest thought of resistance."

"Your judgment is not poor, brat." Qing Ming smiled strangely; the sound was like a grim phantom weeping, utterly unpleasant.

Amidst the chilling laughter, the emerald green in the eyes of the Corpse God Sect Leader Qing Ming grew deeper. Clusters of fingertip-sized green flames suddenly flew out from the depths of his pupils. These oily-green flames were condensed with a hundredfold intensity of Shi Qi, emitting a shockingly peculiar aura, and they slowly drifted toward the two upright Celestial Corpses.

"Pijue Corpse Fire!"

At that moment, the Profound Ice Cold Flame within the Blood Patterned Ring suddenly transmitted a mental message: "That is one of the Heavenly Fires, the Ninth of the Nine Heavens. Once a living being is touched by this Corpse Fire, and it permeates their blood cells, they undergo mutation, becoming terrifying Corpse Slaves, completely controlled by that Pijue Corpse Fire."

Shi Yan’s heart tightened. He involuntarily retreated three steps backward, secretly refining the various defensive powers within his body, wary that Qing Ming might suddenly divert the Pijue Corpse Fire—one of the Heavenly Fires—toward him.

A flicker of strange understanding crossed Qing Ming’s green eyes; he seemed to perceive Shi Yan's apprehension.

Those clusters of eerie green flames, under his command, slowly drifted out and vanished into the bodies of the two seated Celestial Corpses.

Once the Pijue Corpse Fire entered their systems, the male and female corpses slowly regained a slight breath. The suppressed power within their bodies began to thaw, and their previously stiff forms seemed to become somewhat more agile.

"Brat, is the flame within your body one of the Heavenly Fires?" Qing Ming did not spare a glance at the two corpses, instead focusing his attention on Shi Yan. "That searing flame also carries the solar energy of Sun God Tang Yuannan. Which type of Heavenly Fire do you possess?"

"I know you possess the Pijue Corpse Fire," Shi Yan frowned, secretly communicating with Yi Tianmo and the others via his soul, warning them of the Pijue Corpse Fire's lethality. He then stated gravely, "As the leader of the Corpse God Sect, possessing the Pijue Corpse Fire and mastering all the corpse-controlling secret arts of the sect—it seems many have underestimated your true cultivation."

"That is true," Qing Ming replied without modesty, smiling weirdly. "The flames upon your body, while certainly extraordinary, perhaps have the ability to contend with my Pijue Corpse Fire. Unfortunately, your realm and cultivation are too low; you cannot truly command it. Therefore, I can easily subdue you. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you," Shi Yan nodded, then sneered, "But you cannot do it."

"Cannot do it?" The green flames in Qing Ming's pupils flickered, and dense, icy Yin Qi began pouring out from every pore on his body.

Simultaneously, cold Yin Qi also started to leak from the bodies of the three behind Yi Tianmo.

Hundreds of thousands of streams of spiritual energy from the trio burst forth in an instant, surging out like an unending, surging river, instantly engulfing all the high-ranking members of the Corpse God Sect.