Chapter 131: The Mirror

I now find myself within an immense ancient tomb. As to why this tomb is the way it is, I have no knowledge. The only information I could gather from the coffin was that when Yang Dong originally entered this tomb, he continuously moved northward. The place where I had just lingered was a spot they passed through along the way.

One must understand that within such an underground crypt, it is incredibly easy to lose all sense of direction. Fortunately, the spaces I have traversed remain faintly etched in my memory. Even as I hurriedly moved forward, I could clearly recall certain moments from the past—how Master Ma of Mashan and his companions sought out the dragon’s lair and burial site.

With each step deeper into the tomb, the fragments of memory grew more vivid. At times, I could distinctly sense countless things. Among these recollections were numerous esoteric Yin-Yang techniques once employed. At this moment, I was nearly able to perceive them fully. While seeking an exit, I continuously calculated and analyzed. The process was not overly difficult. The greatest reason for this was that, having strengthened my body with the Yellow Springs water in the coffin and merged it with Yang Dong’s memories, I was able to advance my mystical arts dramatically in a short time. Although some methods of seeking the tomb still felt rudimentary, I was by now capable of manipulating many things at will.

Pressing onward, I began to clearly feel a suffocating aura surrounding my body—a sensation that seemed to stem both from memory and my very being.

After walking for about three more minutes, I was astonished to discover something strange: this place appeared to be the very spot where I had just emerged from that cave. Why was I here again after nearly an hour of walking? Why had I returned to a previous point?

There was nothing like this in my memories. Had the tomb changed over the years? Or was some master manipulating things from within?

If it were the former, I had no cause for concern. But if it were the latter, then I had long since become a toy under someone’s watchful eye.

Should I turn back and investigate?

But just as I turned and ran toward the cave from my memory, there was no one in sight. The entire space bore no sign of a struggle.

Xiyue and the others were not here?

Had I entered an illusion?

At once, I bit my fingertip, drawing a broken-illusion talisman in the air. Then, with a sharp palm strike into the void, I uttered the word “Break!”

—

A low hum resonated.

There was no change in the space before me—only the talisman paper shattered with a dull crack.

I stood there, worry etched on my face. This was indeed a real space. To confirm, I struck the rocky wall ahead with a punch, sending dust and stones scattering. For a moment, I was stunned. If this place was controlled by someone, then Xiyue and the others must be caught up in it as well. I refused to believe that the Golden Vajra corpse Zhang Keqing was responsible—such a thing was nearly impossible. The scene I had seen upon turning back made it clear: a terrifying presence was manipulating the tomb’s aura from the shadows.

And that presence was hidden, while we were exposed.

From now on, I had to remain constantly vigilant. Every step I took must be cautious.

With that thought, I casually drew a soul-gathering talisman in the air and slapped it onto the wall nearby. This was my first mark, a way to orient myself. In such an underground tomb, one’s sense of location is utterly lost; there is no direction. Even if you begin knowing the way, once you delve deeper, confusion sets in, and you soon lose all sense of order.

At this moment, I was thoroughly disoriented within this space, unable to find Xiyue and the others. Everything felt increasingly strange. When I woke from the coffin, I believed I could completely change this situation—that I could clearly control all the sudden events unfolding around me.

But the reality was quite the opposite.

Standing before the silent cave where the fighting had just occurred, I felt a creeping unease in my heart despite the utter stillness.

Step by step, I had no choice but to move forward. Behind me lay the path I had just entered, likely an illusion. Yet I had no option but to press onward. Perhaps all I had encountered before was a mirage, one I had yet to detect.

If I could reach the end of this corridor, I knew from memory that beyond it lay the altar from many years ago.

Gritting my teeth, I vanished forward, plunging headlong into the space ahead. I could clearly feel a sinister chill approaching. The cold presence did not frighten me; instead, I sensed a force steadily drawing nearer.

Could the one wielding this power be the shadowy figure manipulating the entire tomb? If so, that would be a relief. It would be far better than this terrifying feeling of being exposed while the enemy lurks unseen.

But what I did not expect was this: after marking the path with over a dozen signs, the corridor before me remained exactly as it had initially appeared. Even the marks I had left were gone.

After circling for two or three hours, panic began to rise within me.

Just then, a shadow suddenly appeared before my eyes. At first, I dismissed it as a trick of the light, but the second time I saw it, my heart jolted violently. The figure was none other than Zhao Fifteen.

Had he not been grievously wounded before?

Why was he here now?

My heart trembled as I took a step forward—and once again saw Zhao Fifteen. But this time, he vanished directly into the walls lining the corridor.

Ah?