Chapter 138: Crisis in the Immortal Mansion

Shortly after Master Jinyun leaped into the abyss, others followed suit. The master of the one-armed man jumped, followed in quick succession by the Korean monk Park Jung-jin, Liu Tian’s father, the High Priest of the Miao village, and Master Hailian. Everyone who dared to descend cast themselves into the void.

He Zhixing, having jumped minutes ahead of the others, controlled his descent by pushing off the irregular rock protrusions along the cliff face. This technique allowed him to conserve his internal energy while simultaneously slowing his plummet—a strategy that served a dual purpose.

After gliding down several hundred meters, he stabilized his position on a massive, jagged rock formation that resembled a giant blade. He had sensed a powerful convergence of spiritual energy emanating from deep within this very stone. Using a file, He Zhixing began to tunnel into the loose soil and crumbling rock tucked into the crevice of the blade-like stone.

He had only been digging for a short while when Master Jinyun descended and landed upon the same rock. He Zhixing glanced at the master, offered a wry smile, and continued his excavation.

Soon, others arrived one after another. Seeing He Zhixing’s progress, they exchanged knowing smiles and silently joined the effort, drawing their own knives and weapons to begin digging.

With so many hands at work, they quickly tunneled five meters deep. A strange phenomenon occurred: the deeper they went, the more intense the heat became, until even the soil grew scorching. As the heat intensified, He Zhixing’s intuition grew sharper. He sensed a dangerous presence nearby and realized that the moment they breached the entrance to the cavern, they would surely face grave peril. He hurriedly signaled for everyone to stop.

He asked Master Jinyun, "Master, I sense that a terrifying, heat-radiating creature may be guarding this cavern. Should we continue?"

Master Jinyun looked toward the others, who all signaled their intent to proceed. It seemed they were prepared. Since they were not afraid, there was nothing left to do but continue.

Not long after, they finally breached the cavern. The moment the seal was broken, a thunderous roar erupted, and a surging, dense wave of heat, like fire from the pits of hell, billowed out toward them, accompanied by tongues of flame.

Shocked by the sudden eruption, everyone scrambled back, diving into the loose mounds of soil they had excavated to shield themselves, knowing that to face such flames head-on would mean a gruesome death.

Once the initial wave of fire subsided, they emerged in disarray from the soft earth. The one-armed man’s master took the lead, stepping into the cavern, with the others following closely behind, weapons drawn and senses on high alert.

Suddenly, a fierce tiger’s roar startled them all. Within seconds, several massive tigers lunged at the one-armed man’s master. The old man fled faster than a rabbit, diving back into the crowd behind him.

The five of them immediately brandished their weapons, engaging the ferocious beasts. In an instant, the small cavern became a scene of chaotic, intense, and desperate combat.

The tigers possessed a supernatural quality; it was unclear how they moved with such fluidity, weaving through the space as if in an illusion—yet it was no mere mirage. If they were mere phantoms, how could they leave such painful, bleeding wounds upon their bodies?