Chapter Seventy-Two: The Ancient Temple Deep Within the Ruins

Whoosh!

A bone spike shot up from the ground toward Ye Wuyá, who was being carried through the air by his sword.

A crimson sword aura radiated from Ye Wuyá's body, and the ten-meter-long bone spike was instantly split and shattered by the energy!

Ye Wuyá gripped his sword tightly as it pulled him high into the sky, about thirty meters above the ground—any higher and his acrophobia would have overwhelmed him.

Below, a skeletal creature resembling a massive gorilla bared its fangs and claws. Beside it stood a round-boned beast, its back bristling with spikes. The skeletal gorilla grasped and wrenched out a seven or eight-meter-long bone, hefting it like a javelin before hurling it straight at Ye Wuyá.

A perfect javelin throw—yet Ye Wuyá had no appreciation for it.

With a sweep, a stream of sword energy shattered the bone spear!

The earth was bathed in red light, turning cold and desolate, like a wild graveyard, making one's hair stand on end and heart pound with fear.

Such a mysterious and unfathomable scene—Ye Wuyá had never witnessed anything like it in all his years as a tomb raider. Ghosts and spirits had long ceased to surprise him, but this: skeletons dancing in wild confusion, crawling out endlessly from the ground, coming alive—this, he had truly never seen before.

His heart raced. How many must have died here for so many bones to be buried?

Under the crimson glow, these resurrected skeletons possessed at least half the power they had in life. The strongest among them seemed to be at the Gathered Spirit level—not enough to pose a real threat.

Boom!

With a single stroke, Ye Wuyá felled a more than twenty-meter-long skeletal lizard. Coldly, he gazed toward the depths of the ruins.

Staring into the emptiness ahead, Ye Wuyá made up his mind. He had no other choice—mounting his blue longsword, he headed deeper into the ruins, heedless of whatever dangers lay before him.

Night deepened. Ye Wuyá no longer knew how many miles he’d flown before finally drawing near the nine great mountains that marked the heart of the ruins.

Dong!

At that moment, the toll of a great bell echoed once more from the center of the nine mountains. This time, its heavy, muffled sound was even more forceful.

Whatever the reason, the bell’s strange power to stir human desire had ceased; now, it rang at intervals, each peal vastly different from before.

Now, each ring felt as though it hammered directly on the heart.

Ye Wuyá’s internal injuries had not yet healed. His face turned pale as he staggered to the ground, barely managing to walk upright.

Even after repeatedly tempering his body, he could only just withstand the strain as he drew closer to the heart of the ruins. Had he been an ordinary man, his heart would have burst beneath the toll of that bell.

As he approached the innermost ruins, the skeletons grew fewer—only one every few miles.

Yet the closer he got, the more formidable the creatures and skeletons became—far beyond Ye Wuyá’s ability to confront. When he encountered one, he immediately detoured.

After several more miles, the forest thinned, the ruins of ancient buildings became more numerous, and the spiritual energy grew ever denser. Amidst such desolation, there was a strange sense of vitality in the night.

Dong!

Another bell sounded, deep and resonant. Ye Wuyá landed atop a high mountain, his expression grave as he looked toward the heart of the ruins.

A dense sprawl of ancient buildings stretched before him, half-collapsed and reduced to rubble, yet their former glory was still evident. Once, this place must have been a marvel of prosperity.

What truly left Ye Wuyá dumbfounded was the sight of the endless clusters of ancient buildings at the foot of the nine towering mountains, all encircling a single volcano. There, firelight blazed skyward, and within the volcanic crater, molten lava boiled and seethed. Though it had not yet overflowed, it was a terrifying sight, the red moonlight dyeing half the sky crimson.

Majestic structures and the nine colossal mountains surrounded the volcano, creating an uncanny spectacle.

Ye Wuyá was astounded—never had he seen anything like this on Earth. An incredible, otherworldly scene: as the lava surged, a crystal-clear, magnificent ancient palace would float up from within the crater, sometimes surfacing, sometimes sinking.

And the tolling of the bell emanated from within that palace.

Dong.

The sonorous bell sounded again, echoing from deep within the volcano—or rather, from that ancient palace drifting amidst the lava.

The palace glimmered with golden light, exuding an ancient, primeval aura, while divine radiance and black mist slowly swirled within.

Ye Wuyá glanced down at the ruins below. There, a divine bird three or four meters long, its whole body aglow with blue light, arcs of electricity dancing across its feathers, stood atop a ruined rooftop.

He was certain it was the same blue thunderbird he had encountered days before.

The blue thunderbird was a true high-level demon beast. It stood silently atop the ruined building, and in that area not a single creature or skeleton dared draw near.

Ye Wuyá lifted his gaze in other directions. Among the other clusters of ruins, nearly twenty ancient beasts were scattered—strange and powerful creatures, most unknown to him, each radiating a mighty presence.

A centipede with silver wings, as thick as a man’s arm and two meters long, its whole body shining as if cast from silver, lay motionless among the ruins. No other beast dared approach it.

There was also a beast with the body of a wild ox, the head of a lion, and covered in green scales, standing over ten meters tall like a small mountain, occupying its own domain.

Nearly twenty such terrifying creatures were gathered here, encircling the volcano, their gazes fixed warily on the palace drifting in the lava.

What the hell are those? Demonic beings? Or something else?

Suddenly, Ye Wuyá spotted a group of human cultivators and other demonfolk he had noticed earlier, already gathered near the volcanic crater, facing each other from a distance.

Relations between the two groups seemed tense, bordering on confrontation.

A giant man, two meters tall, his entire body green and his limbs covered in scales that shone in the lava’s glow, stood at the front.

Beside him was a birdman with an eagle’s head, a human body, and taloned feet. He had no arms, only a pair of wings, and his long hair shimmered like golden threads.

Sitting as equals with them was a massive serpent with horns and sharp claws beneath its belly—far beyond any ordinary snake, more akin to a legendary flood dragon.