Bowing respectfully before the creature that, by all indications, was the owner of that sanctuary that had allowed them to survive, neither of them dared to show any disrespect.

Of course, the sense of oppression coming from an extremely powerful spiritual pressure might also have had something to do with their excessive politeness.

There, they had no ancestors to protect them, so that creature should not become an enemy unless it was the last option.

The creature seated on the throne merely watched them with boredom.

[“Speak.”]

Suddenly, a single word, spoken in a low, imposing voice, echoed directly into their minds through sound transmission.

Wang Mei was a little surprised to hear that voice, because, as far as she knew, shadow beasts did not possess the intelligence to speak. Fortunately, she quickly accepted that this being, so similar in appearance, was in fact something completely different.

“Senior, I am bringing the holy daughter of the—” Kong Huang began to speak, but was immediately interrupted by a simple raise of the shadow’s hand.

[“I have already heard your purpose.”]

The being spoke with detached calm.

[“The agreement I made with your people is simple. First, all humans who enter my territory must hand over their storage rings, if they have them. Second, they may not leave after entering. And finally, figures of prominence and authority must sincerely reveal all the information they possess about the outside world, without concealing anything.”]

The message was transmitted firmly, exerting enormous pressure on the two of them.

Kong Huang closed his mouth and cast a sidelong glance at the surprised Wang Mei. He already knew the third term and had, in fact, already revealed everything he knew to the shadow king.

He simply had not told Wang Mei beforehand to avoid trouble. Who knew if she might suddenly try to flee upon hearing that term? In that case, the blame would fall on him, and his life could be at risk by remaining in that place.

Kong Huang barely knew her, so he would not sacrifice himself for some random person.

It wasn’t that he was evil or anything of the sort; he just wasn’t a saint and prioritized his own interests over those of strangers.

Besides, he had already handed over his information, so he knew what they were asking for. The shadows wanted nothing more than ultra–high-level, highly confidential but technically public data, of which they themselves knew little, and which should not cause trouble for them even if revealed to a stranger.

Even more so considering that they had been sent to that tomb by their own sects, so their loyalties were no longer that firm.

As for Wang Mei, she did indeed widen her eyes upon hearing such a request, even casting a discreet resentful glance at Kong Huang.

It wasn’t as if she intended to flee in the first place. Even if they demanded the techniques of the sect that had betrayed her, she would have handed them over without hesitation—if not for the soul oath that all disciples at the Nascent Soul realm and above swear upon receiving them, which made such an action impossible.

And considering that Kong Huang, who was bound by the same restriction, was still alive there, they clearly had not demanded that.

Meanwhile, on the throne, the shadow king—or, more precisely, Aotian—calmly observed the entire exchange of glances between the two.

He already understood, in broad strokes, what was going on.

At that point, two days had already passed since they had entered that apocalyptic small world.

During that period, he had not stopped for a single moment.

He began by sending his shadows to hunt shadow beasts and bring them to the divine incarnation of his ancestral-level avatar, Mo Yexuan, so that they could be reanimated by shadow necromancy as shadow soldiers.

Thus, as new soldiers emerged, they were immediately sent out to hunt more. The weaker ones went out in groups, while the stronger ones went alone. In this way, he reduced losses among his troops and managed to obtain more powerful bodies to expand his army.

Although the shadows could not use all the abilities of the being that had served as resurrection material, except for racial ones—since the current level of his necromancy only affected the body and not the soul, where most of a cultivator’s memories resided—many things still remained in the brain, such as combat instincts, some frequently used spells, and other aspects.

So, despite a certain loss of power, as in any normal necromancer army Aotian had read about in his past life, the most important thing in such cases was never individual ability, but rather the quantity and quality of the troops.

This was different from the shadows summoned by the inner elders, which retained all of the target’s capabilities. But the purposes of the two abilities were distinct.

One was about resurrecting a corpse, while the other consisted of controlling the shadow of a living being, which could not stray far from its owner.

In any case, Aotian was constantly expanding his army and, while sending them out to hunt, also had them search for herbs in every corner, especially the Silent Cadaver Orchid.

One surprising thing he discovered was that the herbs of the small world were, in fact, protected by numerous ancient formations surrounding it. Because of this, the Shadow Beasts, unable to feed on them, ended up absorbing impurities from the plants instead, which was the only thing they could draw from them.

This caused the plants of the mountain, which already had an environment rich in spiritual energy, to thrive completely by being protected from impurities and even having them actively removed from themselves, becoming extremely vibrant and powerful.

It was almost like a self-sustaining and extremely refined spiritual garden, which made those lands incredibly rich in herbs.

This made Aotian recall the Shadowfallen Burial Mountain of the Beiyan Continent, which he had entered once.

There, the plants were powerful and abundant, almost free of impurities, always guarded by a Shadow Beast.

The difference was that, back then, there were no apparent formations protecting them. However, Aotian soon realized that perhaps it was not that they did not exist, but rather that they had been deactivated when the mountain opened, while the shadow beasts entered an inert state after most of the impurities had been siphoned away to some place shortly before the opening.

Thus, the beasts only awakened when someone tried to harvest the plant, which had been their food for a long time and also the place where they slept.

Because of this, it seemed as though they played the role of guardians, when in truth, they had always been there, and someone had simply passed by them.

‘In the end, all of this was just a grand scheme to create a highly attractive herb garden, luring cultivators into the mountain, making them carry impurities within their bodies, and finally having them take away the corpses of the shadow beasts for purification…’

‘And it was even better, because with the gains from the mountain, everyone would be satisfied and could even reach a higher realm, then return later to repeat the cycle. Incredible!’

Aotian reflected with a sigh, admiring the ingenuity of the past generations as he grasped the full picture unfolding before him.

‘What a great scheme!’

He thought, with a strange, wondrous gleam in his eyes, as he rubbed the chin of his main body with a malicious smile.

That smile made the poor disciples fighting near him on the sect’s floating ship unconsciously take a step back, feeling a bad premonition.

Well, his thoughts might have been going down a somewhat twisted path, but regardless, all of that still represented a certain problem for him.

With the forced opening of the gates this time, many formations began to fail, and numerous herbs ended up dying after losing their protection in that impurity-saturated world. Meanwhile, many others still remained standing, which made recovering the plants difficult.

Perhaps not even the cultivators who forced the mountain open had considered this, either because they did not understand how that place truly functioned from within, or simply because they had other plans.

‘Ugh, I don’t know whether I’d prefer everything to fail and the plants to die, freeing me from the worry of someone finding an orchid, or if I’d rather nothing fail and gain a lot of herbs while searching…’

He thought with a mix of bitterness and amusement.

‘Haah… now, not only do I have fewer herbs to harvest, but I also have to look for an orchid that may or may not even exist here. What a thankless job.’

Complaining inwardly, Aotian lowered his gaze through the shadow he directly controlled via his divine incarnation, and observed the two cultivators, who were waging a silent war of glances.

Even with an objective of extreme importance in mind, his kind heart could not remain indifferent when seeing so many people perishing in others’ schemes without doing anything.

Because of this, he ordered his shadow soldiers to rescue and bring people there. Of course, he was also driven by certain interests. Being kind did not mean he needed to put himself at a disadvantage.

And his first objective in doing so, besides kindness, was the storage rings, but there was a good reason for that. It was not that he was not greedy for those cultivators’ belongings, which he indeed was, but not to the point of blatantly robbing them.

The main reason was the fear that someone might be carrying a Silent Cadaver Orchid and hiding it. Because of this, he could not allow them to keep their storage rings, in case they possessed one, nor allow them to leave the camp, preventing them from actually acquiring one.

And, of course, even if they did not have one, handing over their storage rings was just a small fee for salvation. The Infinite Dao Sect would benefit greatly from this, all for the greater good, of course. Bao Hui would certainly approve of such a gentle approach.

Furthermore, bringing people there, to that place where he had used precious materials, formation discs, and a great deal of spiritual energy to create a Soul Formation–level Feng Shui, did not pose much danger to himself.

Aotian was clever and cautious, and thus, unknown to everyone, he controlled the shadows from afar. His divine incarnation was not actually present in that camp. Missions were also constantly being generated, indicating when he should abandon the location.

To act in his stead, he left one of his strongest soldiers as the Shadow King, controlling it directly while shrouding himself from view.

Thus, without putting himself at risk, saving people not only helped prevent someone from obtaining the herb, but also earned him resources, soothed his kind heart, and finally brought him something extremely essential… information.

When it came to information, an excellent target stood before his eyes at that very moment, proving that his gamble was beginning to bear fruit.

Staring at the girl who had just arrived, a holy daughter, Aotian recognized her as one of the best candidates from whom he could extract what he desired at that moment.

He knew exactly who she was, after all, he had been exploring the central continent and gathering information for quite some time. Wang Mei was the only disciple of a powerful cultivator at the peak of Void Refinement who had fallen a few years ago.

Aotian sensed that, unlike the other young man there—Kong Huang, who knew little of what he sought to uncover and was merely one of several disciples of a cultivator at the early stage of Void Refinement—she likely possessed far more information.

So, tired of the silent exchange of glances between them and impatient for answers, he spoke directly to the girl.

[“Tell me everything you know about the probable destruction of the world.”]

He asked abruptly, immediately drawing the stunned attention of both.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep