Summoner Cult Leader

The entire underground palace rumbled and trembled, with fine dust and debris drifting down from the ceiling.

Something dramatic seemed to be unfolding within the depths of the tomb.

“Is the great tomb collapsing?!”

Bai Jinghong exclaimed in alarm.

Everyone’s expressions shifted in an instant.

This underground palace was vast and magnificent beyond measure, and none of them knew just how deep beneath the earth they were. If the tomb were to suddenly collapse, it would be far more terrifying than a mountain crumbling.

Being buried alive here—even an Outer Realm expert of the Fifth Stage would be skinned alive, let alone them.

“It shouldn’t collapse,”

Li Mo said gravely, though he shook his head.

Through the Divine Fate Eye, he had never seen anyone die from a tomb collapse.

Ying Bing furrowed her brow, pondering for a moment before softly saying,

“Someone must have triggered the killing mechanism on the chessboard.”

Some people had no understanding of the complex rules governing this labyrinthine tomb and were likely wandering aimlessly, naturally walking straight into a deadly trap.

“There are no shortage of strong warriors entering the tomb. If they triggered the killing mechanism, they certainly wouldn’t just wait to die.”

Tian Miao’s implication was clear.

Those people were trying to use brute force to overcome subtlety.

Unable to decipher the tomb’s mysteries, they resorted to sheer physical power, forcing their way in. This approach might come at a heavy cost and could even lead to consequences beyond reckoning.

“We need to speed up.”

Li Mo exchanged a glance with Ying Bing, then looked toward Tian Miao.

At the very least, behind Jiang Yu stood a Master of the Mysterious Realm, and the Patrol Heaven Guards. Behind Tan Zhuyin were two Law Kings at the Law Body Stage. Racing headlong toward the main burial chamber, it was hard to say who would arrive first.

Moreover, if the tomb were damaged beyond a certain point, the original method to break the mechanism might cease to work.

“You’re leaving?” Bai Jinghong asked hesitantly.

Li Mo nodded. “You all stay here and don’t move. This part of the tomb is safe. If we go further, I might not be able to ensure your safety.”

“If something goes wrong, it would be like a fire at the city gate spreading to the fish pond...”

“...”

For the first time, the three heroes of Hengyun felt like mere small fry, their expressions complicated.

But they understood Li Mo’s reasoning and decided to stay put.

“You go ahead. We can manage.”

“Yeah, don’t wander off. You’ve all read the stories, right? Those with too much curiosity are often the first to get their coffins...”

Li Mo warned once more. Ice Lump had already set the numbers on the door.

The three figures disappeared again into the darkness.

The once confident swordsmen suddenly felt the eerie silence pressing in around them. In the pitch-black, empty space, it seemed as if a few tomb guardians could leap out from anywhere...

“We can... manage.”

“Hiss, suddenly feeling so cold...”

In the darkness, the swordsmen silently became weak, helpless, and pitiful, shivering in the crumbling tomb.

After all, who isn’t still a child at heart...

...

Li Mo led the way, opening the path. The three returned to the correct route. As Ice Lump unlocked one tomb door after another, they drew ever closer to the heart of the underground palace.

The thunderous rumbling continued, fluctuating between near and far, always keeping pace with them.

“Ice Lump, how much longer?”

Li Mo asked, but there was no response for a long time.

At the stone gate ahead, Ying Bing was squatting, her eyes dazed, distracted for some unknown reason.

“Ice Lump? Are you alright?”

Li Mo held her hand gently and called out softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

“The situation in the underground palace is shifting. I was just calculating the final move. It’ll be fine.”

Ying Bing pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly.

She then twisted the numbers on the pedestal to the correct position.

“It’s open.”

This time, there was no rumbling from the underground palace, only the heavy grinding sound of the stone door.

The soft glow of the pearl illuminated the darkness ahead. It was a deep corridor, and judging by the marks on the stone walls, it was definitely man-made.

Li Mo, being the strongest in physical strength, shielded Ying Bing behind him.

“I’ll go first. You two follow me.”

“Got it.”

Their footsteps echoed through the long corridor.

Along the walls, there were murals, even more complete than the ones they had seen before. Those previous murals were included among them.

Or rather, these were the continuations of the earlier murals.

The story depicted how the primordial beings were transformed into totems by the power of all living things. Afterward, the various tribes of humanity began warring against each other, until only two largest tribes remained.

One tribe was painted in red, the other in black.

Behind each side stood towering figures—immortal beings who descended from the Nine Heavens.

Behind the black tribe were five immortals, led by a nine-colored phoenix woman. Among the other three was the Dream God.

Behind the white tribe stood four mysterious figures.

In the end, the black tribe triumphed, and the white tribe was absorbed.

The two tribes merged, and the nine-colored phoenix woman transformed into a gigantic divine bird, sheltering the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths beneath her wings.

Another tall figure donned a crown and ascended the throne.

A kingdom was born.

“The Heavenly Mandate Phoenix, descending to found Shang?” Li Mo said, feeling the words strangely familiar.

“So the founding emperor of Great Shang was actually one of the immortals from the Nine Heavens?”

“Perhaps,” Tian Miao replied uncertainly. “But it’s hard to be sure after so many ages.”

“We should hurry up,” she added.

The three continued down the corridor.

The murals ahead recorded the succession of Great Shang’s emperors, the timeline gradually approaching the day this underground palace was built.

Besides paintings, some ancient characters began to appear on the walls.

“These characters must be very old…” Tian Miao frowned as she studied them for a moment, then shook her head.

Li Mo didn’t need to say anything—he recognized none of them either. They were certainly not Chinese characters.

“This is a diary,” Ying Bing suddenly said.

“A diary? Who in their right mind writes that kind of thing…” Li Mo was curious about what a diary written thousands of years ago could possibly say.

Ying Bing gazed at the characters on the wall and softly began to read aloud:

“Today marks the fourteenth year since I began overseeing the construction of Yunmeng Palace, and the eighty-second year since I became the leader of the God-Summoning Sect.”

“When the construction of Yunmeng Palace started, I thought it would be enough to follow the usual procedures. But during the process, I discovered I could arrange the Nine Death Chess Formation here—a deadly puzzle played between the Yunmeng Ancestral God and Heaven.”

“Even if the Yunmeng Ancestral God were to awaken, it wouldn’t be able to solve it…”

“I can feel my own changes more clearly every day. Every morning when I wake up, I feel increasingly unfamiliar with myself.”

“This chess formation is truly difficult to set up—one wrong move and everything will collapse.”

“If I were still an immortal, wouldn’t a simple wave of my hand be enough…”

The handwriting here had turned into frantic scribbles, as if the writer was overwhelmed with shock and panic—wondering why such thoughts had suddenly surfaced in his mind.

“He’s supposed to be the sect leader, isn’t he? What does it mean ‘when becoming an immortal’?”

Li Mo was equally puzzled.

The following words grew heavy and restrained, filled with a suffocating tension.

“I am Qin Yuzhi, the leader of the Divine Summoning Sect. I am constructing the Yunmeng Underground Palace...”

“I must hurry, or else *He* will awaken within me... shifting from dream into reality...”

“When that happens, my existence will be nothing more than a dream within *His*...”

“Am I still myself now? I can’t tell. I truly can’t tell...”

The mural ended here, and the corridor was nearly at its end.