The sky had already darkened completely. In the long corridor outside the exit, two rows of cultivators stood in neat formation.
Each of them held a gilded glass palace lantern. The warm yellow light filtering through the translucent shades illuminated only the lower half of their faces, leaving their eyes and brows completely steeped in deep shadow. The stark contrast between light and dark felt harsh and eerie.
To make matters worse, every single one of them was expressionless, their eyes staring blankly and directly at the people who had just emerged from the formation.
It was an unspeakable horror.
Everyone's heart turned cold. Without a second thought, they quickly crowded together back-to-back in a defensive circle, their sword points facing outward.
Once they calmed down and recognized several familiar faces in the flickering light, they froze in shock and cried out in horror, “Fellow Daoist Huang?!”
“Brother Ziwen? Senior Sister Chen?”
“Junior Brother?! How are you all...”
“Don't bother trying to recognize them.”
Jingyu tightened his grip on Song Yao slightly, his gaze sweeping over their rigid bodies and hollow, lifeless eyes. “Their love threads have been extracted. They won't communicate with you.”
The knuckles of those gripping their swords turned white.
Fighting demons was one thing, but killing their own people...
...that was truly a nightmare.
Someone asked in a trembling voice, “What... what do they want, blocking us here?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the two rows of puppet-like cultivators suddenly stepped aside to clear a path.
The cultivator at the very front spoke stiffly, “Today is Imperial Father's grand birthday. You are cordially invited to celebrate together. Please follow me.”
Having spoken, he and the other cultivators slowly turned around, carrying their glass lanterns to lead the way forward.
The warm yellow light cast a row of swaying, spindly shadows on the corridor walls. Their movements were so perfectly synchronized that they looked like puppets pulled by a single string, making everyone's skin crawl.
No one dared to make the first move.
They had no idea what this Immortal Venerable was planning, going so far as to gather so many cultivators to act as his "children."
This so-called birthday banquet was clearly a trap.
But having just emerged from purgatory, they were all half-dead and utterly exhausted, with absolutely no power to refuse.
“Wait a moment.”
Ning Zhou grit his teeth and braced himself to take a sudden step forward.
The two rows of cultivators stopped in unison, turning their heads to look at him.
Dozens of hollow, lifeless eyes stared straight at him, making his scalp tingle in an instant.
Suppressing his dread, he grit his teeth and asked tentatively, “Um... some of us are heavily injured and unconscious. They really can't handle any more strain. Could we arrange a side hall for them to rest first? If we were to disrupt the Immortal Venerable's birthday banquet, we wouldn't be able to bear the consequences.”
Those pairs of eyes remained completely devoid of emotion despite his words.
The leading cultivator stared at him, his voice flat as he said, “Imperial Father's birthday banquet. Not a single person can be missing.”
The pressure of being watched by so many people was simply too intense.
Ning Zhou felt dizzy, his mind somehow slipping into a daze.
The Ninth Elder clapped a heavy hand onto his shoulder. “Enough, stop asking. Let's go. It's safer to keep them by our side anyway.”
The pain instantly dispelled the fog in his mind.
By the time he snapped back to his senses, the Ninth Elder had already taken the lead and followed them.
Listless and exhausted, the others had no choice but to grip their spiritual swords tightly, focusing their minds as they walked forward.
Jingyu looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms, his steps steady as he followed behind the Ninth Elder, though deep worry filled his eyes.
They passed through a winding, intricately carved corridor, beneath which hung a continuous row of glass palace lanterns of the same design.
The golden-tiled floor gleamed under the light, and the pillars were adorned with interlocking floral patterns inlaid with tiny gems. It was so exquisite that it did not look like a place occupied by demons at all, but rather like a genuine imperial palace.
Before long, a magnificent palace hall suddenly loomed before them.
The double-eaved hip-and-gable roof was covered with gilded tiles, and palace lanterns hung beneath the upturned eaves. The grand doors of the hall stood wide open, allowing warm light and the sound of traditional music to pour out, mingled with loud laughter and chatter—an extravagance that felt almost surreal.
The group hesitated at the bottom of the palace steps for a moment. Looking up, they saw a figure reclining on the main throne inside the hall.
The man wore an extremely extravagant, gold-woven black dragon robe. The hem of his robe cascaded down the jade steps, the five-clawed dragon embroidered with gold thread glinting with a cold, bright luster under the light.
A gold-patterned half-mask covered his face, concealing his eyes and brows, leaving only a sharply contoured jawline and pale, thin lips visible.
Several heavily dressed beauties of both genders reclined in his arms and by his side, pouring wine from white jade pitchers. Below the dais, rows of musicians sat kneeling on both sides. The sound of playful bantering mixed with the melodies of string instruments, creating a somewhat ridiculous scene.
His fingers toyed with a wine cup as he tilted his head slightly to listen to the whispers of the person beside him, his posture both casual and aristocratic.
The entire hall was bathed in warm light, filled with the scent of fine clothes and the shadows of beautiful people. It was a scene of grand prosperity, looking like a paradise on earth, a world apart from the dark, sinister purgatory outside.
Undoubtedly, this was the Immortal Venerable they had spoken of.
Because they had lingered for too long, the puppet-like cultivators standing on both sides of the palace steps turned their eyes. Their lifeless gazes fell upon them in unison, feeling like sticky slime on their skin.
With their backs stiffening under the stare, the group had no choice but to hold their breath and climb the steps with heavy hearts.
The man on the throne seemed to only just notice their arrival. He lazily raised his eyelids and waved his wide sleeve, causing the palace doors to swing open even wider.
He casually pulled a beauty into his arms and drank a mouthful of wine directly from her hand. The liquid dripped down the corner of his lips as he spoke with a hint of intoxication, “You kept Us waiting for so long. Hurry inside and take your seats.”
The group was forced to quicken their pace, but when they looked up and saw the interior of the hall, they froze once more.
Many familiar faces were already seated inside the hall.
The Twelfth Elder of the Nine Saints Hall, along with dozens of cultivators from various sects, sat at the banquet tables lined up on both sides.
Fortunately, they seemed clear-headed, and their love threads had not been extracted.
However, each of them was accompanied by a beautiful, scantily clad companion.
It was hard to tell their exact genders, but they were likely transformed demons.
Some poured wine from jade cups, while others peeled fresh fruit and fed it to the cultivators' lips. This caused many of the younger cultivators' ears to turn bright red. They forced themselves to sit up straight with rigid backs, looking incredibly awkward.
Only the Twelfth Elder remained relatively calm, her fingers lightly tapping against her jade cup. She did not show much of a reaction even when a beauty leaned into her embrace.
With a calm expression, she gave a slight nod to the newly arrived Ninth Elder, indicating that everything was fine.
But when her gaze swept over the sleeping figure in Jingyu's arms, her brow furrowed imperceptibly.
Earlier, outside the demon realm, Zhu Zhao had sent a message saying that Song Yao had gone missing and might have run into the demon realm, telling her to keep an eye out. She really was here.
Not only that, but she had also ended up in such a wretched state.
Unfortunately, this demon realm was too powerful; even the transmission talismans specifically designed for the demon realm could not be used, leaving her with no way to inform Zhu Zhao.
This girl truly caused worry wherever she went.
She lowered her eyes, contemplating a plan.
On the other side, as soon as the group stepped onto the jade tiles of the hall, a crowd of beauties in fluttering robes greeted them with smiles.
Their soft hands gently took the cultivators' arms, frightening a few of them so much that they nearly jumped away.
“Do not be afraid~ We are all here to serve you Immortals~”
“Please take your seats over here~”
Their soft, gentle words inexplicably made everyone relax a lot.
Everyone took their seats, noticing that the tables were already laden with wine, food, and fresh fruit.
There was one seat per person. As a beauty reached out to take Song Yao, Jingyu frowned and turned his body to dodge her, his voice turning several degrees colder: “She will stay with me. There is no need to trouble yourself.”
Rate on N.U.
