United in purpose to overcome the enemy and showcase their prowess, Shen Yi tenderly protects Gao Yao with unwavering devotion.

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Shen Yi’s knees ground against the blue bricks, leaving streaks of blood. Around his waist, a jade pendant emitted a faint, ethereal bronze mist. Three shadowy afterimages lingered in the air, each raising a curved blade simultaneously, its edge slicing past Shen Yi’s ear and shearing off strands of his black hair.

“Run… run fast!” Ming Xin clutched the torn battle flag and took a step back, his boot heel knocking over Ling Yun’s basket of medicinal herbs placed on the steps.

Five or six young disciples followed him retreating toward the side door of the Sword Pavilion. Dust-repelling talismans on their bracers scattered vermilion powder as they quivered.

“Now you’re scared? Who promised me five hundred acres of snow spirit mushrooms as a betrothal gift?” Shen Yi spun to evade the shadows’ combined strike. His Frost Splendor Sword flicked away three skulls dripping with venom.

As the blade swept over Ming Xin’s head, Shen Yi deliberately cut off the jade hairpin binding his hair, watching the other freeze, hair disheveled.

Though the Night Shadow’s true form had vanished, its afterimages attacked ever more cunningly.

A new wound on Shen Yi’s right arm oozed purple-black blood droplets that hissed as they fell onto the jade pendant.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ling Yun inserting the last three silver needles into Gao Yao’s vital meridian. The icy crystal pendant on the girl’s chest had fractured into a spiderweb of cracks.

“System alert: Host’s spiritual power below 10%. Recommend activating ‘Shennong Sacrifice’ emergency protocol.” The mechanical voice exploded in his mind as a golden wheat-shaped totem appeared on the palm of Shen Yi’s left hand.

He clenched his fist instinctively, his nails nearly digging into the totem’s pattern—activating this function three years ago on an ancient battlefield had left him coughing black ash for half a month.

The demonic blood from the self-explosion of his blood-red eyes was corroding the blue bricks, twisting into dozens of writhing crimson serpents.

Shen Yi threw the last packet of Seven-Star Grass seeds from his sleeve, watching verdant vines coil around two serpent tails. Then he turned to the stunned crowd and shouted, “Two of you, rotate the bronze cauldron at the southeast corner three times! That’s Elder Xuanfeng’s treasured brew, steeped for thirty years!”

Haoyu wiped blood from his face, about to move, but Ming Xin grabbed his collar, “Don’t you see the sealing talisman on the cauldron’s mouth is smoking black? Touching it will kill you!”

“Do you think the Lingshu Cauldron of the Medicine King Valley is a cursed artifact?” Shen Yi suddenly laughed, his bloodstained canine teeth shining brilliantly in the moonlight. “Last year I even snuck a couple of ladles of that medicinal wine to cook hotpot. Old man Xuanfeng chased me over seven mountain peaks—Haoyu, try feeling the cauldron’s handle; maybe you’ll find the braised beef I hid.”

The Night Shadow’s afterimages emitted a sharp buzzing as three silhouettes lunged at Haoyu, who was turning the bronze cauldron.

Shen Yi’s pupils contracted abruptly, and the golden totem on his palm flared uncontrollably. The Shennong apparition flickered behind him and vanished.

At the moment the cauldron’s burst of green light collided with the demonic aura, countless dense bronze patterns emerged on the Sword Pavilion’s floor.

“Cough…” Shen Yi tilted his head, spitting blood streaked with gold thread, feeling as if his internal organs were being seared by a branding iron.

Ling Yun screamed, attempting to rush forward, but was knocked over by the suddenly surging crimson serpents.

At that instant, Gao Yao’s eyelashes fluttered gently as the frost gathering on her fingertips froze the serpent’s head lunging at the healer.

Ming Xin suddenly noticed his shadow fading.

He stared in horror as the bronze patterns crept up over his shoe, and the battle flag pole in his hand clattered onto the ground beside Shen Yi’s feet. “Senior Brother Shen, your shadow… your shadow is devouring mine!”

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The Night Shadow’s lingering sneer dripped down from the eaves: “Such a delicious human heart, even better than the stubborn souls of Qingyang Sect twenty years ago… Oh, did I forget to mention, your beloved Elder Xuanfeng personally—”

“Shut up!” Shen Yi suddenly plunged the Frost Splendor Sword into his left shoulder. The spurting blood dripped onto the jade pendant, which emitted a clear, bell-like chime.

The bronze patterns retracted from under his feet like the tide, only to reconfigure into countless eyes within the stone cracks.

“Haoyu! Pour half a jar of realgar wine into the cauldron! Ling Yun, please toss me Gao Yao’s ice soul hairpin!”

Cracks spread across the jade pendant, reaching his chest, and Shen Yi keenly felt the divine-level farming system ravenously draining his life force.

As he grasped the ice pin warmed by Gao Yao’s body temperature, the dormant Nine Nether Soil in the system’s warehouse began to stir.

The Night Shadow’s afterimage screamed in disbelief, “You actually planted the Cycle Soil in your mind sea?!” Shen Yi’s shout echoed against the Sword Pavilion’s flying eaves, startling a flock of crystal sparrows shimmering in moonlight.

Ming Xin’s fingers whitened as he gripped the half-broken battle flag, noticing Shen Yi’s shadow devouring the writhing crimson serpents. The bitten serpent tails turned to azure smoke, vanishing into the bronze patterns.

“See that? This shadow has a bigger appetite than the mountain-guarding formation.” Shen Yi wiped gold-streaked blood from his mouth, flicked the shattered jade hairpin on the ground toward Ming Xin, and said, “Remember when we caught field mice in the medicine fields? You downed three jars of strong wine to steel your nerves.”

His voice carried a bitter taste of herbal burning. The phoenix tree seed in the system’s warehouse was greedily absorbing his remaining spiritual power.

The Night Shadow’s afterimage suddenly split into nine, their curved blades slicing through the air, releasing dark green poisonous mist.

The silver needles Ling Yun just pulled out blackened instantly; the icy crystal pendant on Gao Yao’s chest cracked once more.

The wheat totem on Shen Yi’s palm suddenly grew wildly, golden veins crawling up the Frost Splendor Sword’s hilt. Wherever its blade swept, green wheat shoots sprouted from the soil.

“Farmer!” Haoyu suddenly popped his head out from behind the bronze cauldron, clutching a clay jar stained with medicinal residue. “Here’s the realgar wine you asked for!” His tossing motion pulled at his rib wound; the jar traced a blood-tinged arc in the air.

Just as Shen Yi turned to catch it, the three shadowy figures’ curved blades simultaneously struck his back.

The jade pendant’s bronze glow barely blocked fatal blows but still left deep wounds on his shoulder blades, bone visible.

Unfazed, he brushed off the dirt sealing the wounds, tilted his head, and gulped down the strong wine, letting the liquid mixed with golden blood soak into his chest.

“Good wine! Even stronger than that jar Elder Xuanfeng hid under his pillow!”

As the spicy liquor cut through the poisonous mist, Shen Yi poured the remaining realgar wine into the air.

The wheat shoots sprouted wildly, golden ears bursting with crackling sounds. The spilled grains ignited upon contact with the realgar wine, flames flickering in pale blue and white.

The Night Shadow’s afterimages twisted and contorted in the flames, emitting screeches like rusted metal scraping.

“System alert: Shennong Sacrifice remaining time: thirty seconds.” The mechanical voice rang with piercing tinnitus. Shen Yi felt warm liquid leaking from his left eye.

He kicked away serpents clawing at his feet, his bloodied boot crushing Ming Xin’s trembling garment. “If you run now, do you want to become human bait for those demonic cultivators or wait to be made into a vessel for breeding gu poisons?”

Gao Yao suddenly coughed violently as frost spreading from her fingertips crawled along the bronze patterns.

Ling Yun seized the moment, inserting the last three silver needles into her Heavenly Pool acupoint. The pale girl’s cheeks finally flushed with color. “Shen Yi… your eyes…”

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“It’s nothing. The last time I planted the Nether Lotus it was the same.” Shen Yi turned his head to avoid Gao Yao’s gaze; blood tears trickled from his left eye, blooming dark gold floral patterns on his collar.

He thrust the Frost Splendor Sword into the ground behind him. As he formed hand seals, a wind stirred, shattering countless wheat stalks, and golden dust exploded overhead into a massive funnel-shaped vortex.

The Night Shadow’s afterimages emitted a piercing shriek: “You dare to contaminate the demonic seed with Shennong’s blood!” Despite the flames burning them, the nine shadows forcibly merged, the skull emblems on their curved blades opening blood-red eyes.

Bronze patterns appeared on the back of Shen Yi’s neck, faintly revealing the Shennong apparition gripping a medicinal hoe.

“Now!” Before Shen Yi’s roar faded, Haoyu had already lunged to the southeast bronze cauldron.

The cauldron’s body, steeped in medicinal wine for thirty years, suddenly displayed a hundred-herb totem. The jar of braised beef Shen Yi had hidden last year by the cauldron’s handle transformed into golden light and merged into the formation.

Ming Xin bit his tongue, smearing blood on the battle flag, whose tattered surface autonomously mended into the Azure Phoenix Chasing the Sun pattern.

The Night Shadow’s lingering sneer shifted tone abruptly.

As the resonance between the bronze cauldron and Frost Splendor Sword’s sonic waves spread, the cobwebs hanging from the roof crystallized into ice. Gao Yao’s ice soul hairpin flew up on its own, embedding into the formation’s core.

Shen Yi staggered a half-step in the sonic wave, blood droplets spurting from his left shoulder wound suspending into eerie wheat-ear shapes.

“Break it for me!” Shen Yi crushed the last Seven-Star Grass seed with his bloodied fingers. Within the exploding green light, a vast virtual herb field of a thousand acres appeared.

The Night Shadow’s afterimages shattered bit by bit under the fierce struggle between wheat waves and frost. The last shadow stared coldly at the bronze pattern on Shen Yi’s chest, revealing a grim smile: “You think it’s over? Demonic seeds most love…”

The moment the Frost Splendor Sword pierced the shadow, the entire Sword Pavilion plunged into absolute silence.

Supporting himself on the sword hilt, Shen Yi knelt on one knee and noticed his shadow losing its golden hue. The eye-shaped patterns scattered across the bronze floor had all turned toward the Western Absolute Dragon Abyss.

Gao Yao’s icy silk cloak gently wound around his wrist, her healing spiritual energy with the scent of snow lotus seeping into his meridians.

Shen Yi met the girl’s watery gaze. The unfrozen ice crystals on her eyelashes reflected moonlight, resembling a star-studded spiderweb that entrapped all his thoughts.

“You’ve come. Now I’m at ease.” Gao Yao’s fingertips brushed over his damaged left pupil, the chill from the ice soul hairpin halting the spreading golden veins.

Shen Yi grinned roguishly, pulling a wrinkled vermilion fruit from his pocket and placing it in her palm. “After this fight, I’ll plant a sea of glowing ice lilies for you…”

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps surged like a tide. The fleeing disciples returned, brandishing battle flags ignited with true flames.

Tears still stained Ming Xin’s face, but the Azure Phoenix flag in his hand blazed with Samadhi True Fire. “Senior Brother Shen, where is the formation’s core? We…”

From the dissipating Night Shadow rose a blood mist. A fragment of curved blade reflected strange runes in the moonlight.

Shen Yi’s pupils contracted sharply as he clearly saw the runes flicker with the unique Nine-Twisting Dragon Pattern of the Absolute Dragon Abyss—the very place where he and Haoyu had buried the wine jar three years ago.