Chapter 53: Who Is the Traitor

Fortunately, once the force of this suction reached a balance, it ceased to intensify.

On the horizon, the pillar of light was glaringly conspicuous, commanding the convergence of energy from a radius of ten million miles into a gigantic vortex. It pierced the slowly writhing black clouds, vanishing from sight—a stark contrast of black and white.

At this moment, a pallor swept across Kongqing's face, and he could not help but shudder.

“This is bad! Shanglu has activated the inheritance! If we don’t intercept the pillar of light, it will pierce through the heavens. When the River of Falling Skies descends, it will bring disaster to the entire Green Mountain and even Mangfu!”

Qin Chuan was taken aback, surprise flickering in his heart at hearing the familiar words “River of Falling Skies” from Kongqing’s lips.

He could not help but recall the boundless sea that surrounded the thousand mountains within the Realm of Transformation.

His heart raced, his breath grew hurried, and when he looked at the pillar of light again, his eyes brimmed with grave concern, his face clouded and somber.

The others, too, were well aware of the dire situation. Fang Mu handed out pills to replenish spiritual energy, while Wantong, her face pinched with pain, produced Swiftstride Talismans and distributed them.

After swallowing the pills and pressing the talismans to their hips, a slight channeling of spiritual power sent them shooting forward uncontrollably, as though burdened with a thousand pounds of force.

The withered wild grass on either side flashed past at dizzying speed. Now, it would only take two hours to reach the light screen that had manifested.

No one knew what secret method Shanglu and his companion had used. Despite their grievous injuries, they had traversed ten thousand miles in a single night.

The Shang clan’s inheritance was inseparable from the Domain; many of their secret arts bore the mark of shadowy winds, so their familiarity with this place was not surprising.

The two hours flew by in a blink.

When Qin Chuan arrived beneath the pillar of light, he drew in a sharp breath at the sight before him.

The pillar seemed to envelop the entire mountain range—its scope was immense.

Looking up, it pierced straight into the heavens. At first, it was indistinct, but now, at the intersection of black clouds and white light, lightning flickered frequently, and muffled thunder rumbled.

“This place of inheritance is a seal of an ancient demon within the Domain. To sever the pillar of light, we must remove the arcane sword atop the mountain!”

Kongqing pointed into the distance, and the others followed his gaze. Though the white light obscured their view, nothing could hide the surging power within.

The arcane sword was like a whale, devouring all the spiritual energy around it. Even within just these two hours, Qin Chuan could clearly feel that the spiritual energy of heaven and earth had diminished by nearly half a tenth.

Given a few more days, the Domain's spiritual energy would be completely drained.

“How are we to retrieve this sword?” Wantong’s face betrayed fear, but she could not help but ask.

“Carry it over…” Kongqing shook his head with a bitter, weary smile.

Before the others could question him further, he suddenly extended his right hand and struck his chest. A mouthful of heart’s blood sprayed into the air, transforming into a bloody mist that merged with the light screen, corroding it and revealing a portal barely half a person tall.

The group fell silent for a moment, then all turned to look at Kongqing, making him somewhat embarrassed.

He could hardly be blamed. As soon as the bloody mist formed, most of its spiritual energy was immediately siphoned away. Against the pillar of light, it seemed feeble.

“It’s nothing, let’s do it again!”

Kongqing took a deep breath, his expression fierce. He bent his knees into a horse stance, his feet sinking half their length into the earth.

With a roar, he clasped his hands together, the veins on his arms writhing, and struck his own crown with savage force.

A spurt of crimson arched like a rainbow, landing on the pillar of light, reflecting in his now lifeless, ashen eyes.

But it was only barely better than before—not enough for even one person to enter.

Noticing the mix of pity and faint hope in Qin Chuan and the others’ eyes, as though urging him on—hit again, don’t stop, let the storm rage—Kongqing’s eyes flickered with a trace of grim resolve.

He clenched his teeth, steadied his wavering consciousness, and with a loud shout, brought his palms together and slammed down repeatedly. Blood spurted with each blow, and his body finally collapsed backward to the ground.

Each mouthful of heart’s blood shimmered and merged into a stream of light, forcibly dissolving a portal in the pillar.

Yet the power sustaining the portal was rootless water, unable to endure. It began to dissipate at a rate visible to the naked eye.

Kongqing, after all this, toppled to the ground, his consciousness drifting between black and white. But his will persisted, his voice and a spray of blood issuing forth together.

“Hurry… hurry…”

There seemed more he wished to say, but the others could not make it out.

Wantong and the rest hesitated briefly, their faces touched with pity, but quickly steeled themselves and slipped one by one through the narrow portal.

Alas, they did not hear Kongqing’s final words: “Hurry… destroy Green Mountain, destroy Mangfu…”

From the center of his brow, a wisp of soul-blood suddenly emerged, drawn by some summons, struggling as if to return to his body.

But after only a half-breath’s effort, it faltered, drifting through the pillar of light and vanishing into the depths. Kongqing’s corpse shriveled rapidly, like meat air-dried for a decade, taking on the same appearance as his second brother.

The group within the pillar of light saw none of this.

Inside, black and white fog churned, their collision howling and shaking the hearts of those present.

Carry it over? What sort of place of inheritance was this? It was a road to certain death.

The two vortices of fog, like meat grinders, spanned left and right. It took all their effort to find a foothold, only to find, upon turning back, that the portal had already closed.

The two swirling masses clashed, like a dragon and a tiger vying for the mountain.

Qin Chuan’s face was grave; the situation was slipping out of control.

He realized he had been misled by Wantong from the very start. She had been tasked by the sect to uncover the traitor among the ten. The group was split into three factions, so he had assumed one must be plotting something. Yet in the end, both sides harbored ulterior motives.

The battle between Shanglu and Kongqing had been nothing but a staged performance, one sacrificing himself to draw attention, making it seem Kongqing was on their side.

But from the outset, there had been flaws.

Qin Chuan had puzzled over it all night, and only by considering the matter as an outsider did he realize that, for the sect, uncovering the traitor was meaningless.

They had knowingly sent the group, with a traitor among them, to such a critical place! Wasn’t that inviting disaster? The sect must have had a deeper scheme—something hidden within this secret land of inheritance.

Were it not for the faint guidance he felt within, Qin Chuan would never have waded into these troubled waters.

Within the Turbulent Shadow Domain, he had grasped the essence of Dust Qi, and ever since, a subtle sense had guided him. He vaguely understood that if he missed this opportunity, his path of cultivation would become far more difficult.