Chapter 332: Do Not Hide and Lure Thieves

Chapter 332: The Inscrutable and Thieving Cave

The carnage on the land could not halt Qing Xu and the captain’s advance.

Though surrounded by peril, as the ancient palace ahead grew nearer, Qing Xu’s eyes gleamed with sharpness, while the captain’s gaze bristled with feverish intensity.

It must be acknowledged that the captain’s timing was impeccable; for under normal circumstances, these three would never have dared approach the abode of the Dark Spirit Lord.

First, they would have had to navigate the countless three-spirit disciples within the city walls below, then contend with the oppressive force of the Black Mountain itself and its sealed restrictions.

Finally, they would face the terrifying prowess of the Dark Spirit Lord.

Every obstacle promised failure, bristling with mortal peril—nay, it was a one-way path where survival was but a fleeting dream.

Yet now, all hindrances had dissolved into mist. The ground city’s throng of three-spirit disciples clashed with the sword-wielding warriors, a chaos that allowed our trio to reach the mountain’s base.

The mountain’s oppressive force and its upper restrictions, too, had crumbled due to the sword warrior’s earlier assault, their remnants still present but stripped of their former menace.

For half the mountain had collapsed, and the palace exposed a yawning void.

Beneath their feet, the mountain’s ruins radiated decay, with jagged fissures splitting its form, tendrils of lightning dancing through stone cracks, fragments of ancient runes dimming.

Some areas exhaled wisps of blue smoke, the mountain’s body riddled with fissures, trees withered, and boulders tumbling ceaselessly, as though the peak might crumble at any moment.

Carcasses littered the ground, alongside wounded three-spirit warriors fleeing in terror, sparing not even glimpses of Qing Xu and the captain.

Above, the void spilled forth debris from the palace floor—objects that made the captain’s eyes blaze with avarice, Qing Xu’s spirit stirred.

They glimpsed dazzling treasures, countless items resembling celestial jade, an innumerable hoard, even the furniture—tables and chairs—were supreme magic tools.

Though in disarray, some corpses of alien servants, pinned by the sword warrior’s strike, remained.

Yet none could deter the captain’s fervor; his speed surged, Qing Xu, though transfixed by the riches, noticed and pondered.

For Qing Xu now wielded the Three-Guan power, while the captain, though only a core formation, displayed a speed rivaling his own.

But he was not surprised—such was foreseen. He retracted his gaze, charging ahead with the captain.

A sudden black silk thread materialized before Qing Xu, slicing toward him. As they neared, a thick, alien aura seeped forth.

Qing Xu retreated sharply, the thread grazing his cheek, severing a strand of hair.

The captain, too swift to dodge, lost his right hand—but with ruthless resolve, he clamped the stump, and flesh knit anew.

“Trivial seals, how dare they impede me!” he roared, then paused as a hundred such threads materialized, weaving a net-like assault.

The alien essence thickened, revealing the captain’s cunning: these threads were woven from the spirit’s essence, a testament to her formidable technique.

Such otherness was anathema to cultivators, now weaponized into a lethal barrier.

Qing Xu’s eyes narrowed, his shadow technique surging forth to block the onslaught.

The shadow rippled, dispersing the threads like water, their forms dissolving upon contact.

Yan Yan, behind him, evaded as well.

But the captain, too reckless, was caught in the weave.

Yet he reveled in his own method—his body fragmented, then reassembled in a blink.

“Ha! Qing, how’d you do that?” the captain taunted, only to find Qing Xu and Yan Yan unscathed, the threads dispersing.

“They severed themselves—the seals’ collapse was too abrupt, rendering them null.”

The captain fell silent, glancing at his scarred arm. A weary sigh escaped him.

“Little junior, let’s go.”

Qing Xu met his gaze, then strode toward the palace. This time, the captain yielded, trailing Yan Yan.

Their progress was swift yet cautious, nearing the void.

More restrictions emerged, evaded save a few, for their alien essence made them consumable to the shadow technique.

Soon, they reached the palace’s edge, catching its fragrant essence.

The sky battle raged fiercely—the first mountain’s roar, the second’s bones clashing, the third’s three forms of the Dark Spirit Lord retreating, their wails haunting.

“Hasten! If they finish, we’ll…” Qing Xu began, but the captain’s eyes blazed, darting inside.

A jade immortal, radiant on a wall, caught his eye. He lunged, biting down—*crack*—its head devoured.

“Celestial jade! Too exquisite! Worth millions!” he exclaimed, pocketing the headless form.

Qing Xu, swift as lightning, leapt in, raising his hand—dozens of lanterns soared toward him.

Each lantern pulsed with incomparable force, not soul-lanterns, yet brimming with worth.

Qing Xu, a Void Great Master’s domain, knew treasures abounded, but time forbade scrutiny.

Grabbing lanterns, he shifted to furniture, the captain scaling walls to pluck embedded pearls, admiring Qing Xu’s lack of finesse.

Qing Xu, smirking, strode to the main chamber, hauling a grand bed, then clearing the room’s clutter.

In most cases, a master’s quarters held intimate treasures—here, perhaps more.

Yan Yan, another chamber, split into copies, scavenging with greater speed.

The palace’s vastness allowed only opportunistic looting, yet the captain’s edge over Qing Xu pleased him.

“Qing, you drank more last time in the Haishi Clan—today, I’ll surpass you!”

Yan Yan hesitated, unsure what to claim, then pondered.

Qing Xu approached. “Yan Yan, for a female cultivator, what’s the palace’s vital area?”

“The makeup room?” she replied without hesitation.

Qing Xu’s eyes lit, he sped to a side pavilion, its mirrors and alchemy jars exhaling profound energy.

In the distance, there were several racks of clothes, each emitting a terrifying aura of magical robes, neatly hung and arranged. Any one of them made Xu Qing feel shortness of breath.

The air was thick with immortal jade and various strange and exotic treasures, causing his Xuanhui Tian Gong to tremble. His instinct told him that here were things that could rapidly solidify his heavenly palace.

The shadow on the ground was similarly agitated, staring fixedly at the bottles and jars. It sensed some special treasures that could greatly benefit itself.

The old ancestor of the Jinguang Clan also stared intently at the mirrors. His intuition told him that these mirrors contained immortal spirits, and devouring the immortal spirits would be of greater help to his cultivation than devouring souls.

Xu Qing took a deep breath, then waved his hand decisively, swiftly collecting all the mirrors and bottles. Yan Shan also helped gather them.

Unfortunately, those robes were too strange and large, with faint light radiating from them, making them impossible to store in the magical bag, which left Xu Qing regretful.

Soon, the team leader sensed something. From outside, someone rushed in, and upon entering the area, before even taking in the surroundings, Xu Qing immediately pointed to the distant clothes rack.

"Big brother, the magical robes are there!"