That's some filthy language

Chu Xingchen tightly grasped Xie Lingyu with his left hand while his right hand transformed into a translucent longsword named Wanban. Spiritual energy surged violently as sword intent erupted from the blade’s tip.

Wanban lifted and slashed downward.

A single strike, cold as ice, swept forth like a storm of wind and rain, carrying overwhelming sword intent.

The young man’s furious expression twisted into terror in an instant.

The sword intent engulfed him, tossing him into its currents before silence fell.

In the blink of an eye, the dust settled.

Overwhelming the weak needed no explanation.

The surrounding mirrors shattered into dissipating spiritual energy as a colossal force erupted skyward, causing the distorted space to tremble violently.

For cultivators, possessing a top-tier spiritual treasure made an immense difference.

Wanban’s feedback was especially overwhelming. Beyond minor spiritual energy amplification, the treasure’s true strength lay in refining the raw energy its master channeled into the most efficient form possible.

To put it simply—

In fierce battles, cultivators often relied on brute-force spiritual energy output, hurling vast quantities indiscriminately.

Spells were like basic formulas—simple, easy-to-calculate combinations of energy.

Divine abilities, however, were advanced formulas—complex but devastatingly powerful.

Spiritual treasures, in a way, acted as autonomous calculators.

This theory was Chu Xingchen’s own. The details might not be entirely accurate, but the gist was correct.

Wanban’s amplification was extraordinary, far surpassing the spiritual treasures of Li Xingtian and Chen Baiqing.

Chu Xingchen swiftly detected the spatial disturbances. Clutching Xie Lingyu, he let Wanban flash like icy light, severing the spells attempting to manipulate space. His figure followed closely behind the blade.

Fighting through every obstacle was out of the question.

When breaking through barriers, one had to be proactive—avoiding them entirely whenever possible.

Wanban carved a flawless path. Though unseen forces tried to drag Chu Xingchen down, the blade intercepted every attempt.

Space could pull at Chu Xingchen, but it couldn’t budge Wanban.

Under the sword’s protection, they crossed an immeasurable distance before Chu Xingchen dared to land, Wanban returning to his side.

Now, lush greenery stretched before them once more, and the towering ancient tree reappeared.

Glancing back, Chu Xingchen realized they’d only traversed about a hundred meters—yet he was certain they’d bypassed at least thirty spatial traps meant to drag him down.

"Scenery’s beautiful, but the methods are downright sinister," Chu Xingchen muttered, exhaling before turning to Xie Lingyu. "You alright?"

Xie Lingyu gave a solemn nod.

The danger here had exceeded even her expectations.

Without Chu Xingchen’s spiritual treasure, navigating this place would’ve meant enduring countless trials.

Only a Mahayana-stage cultivator could manipulate space to this degree.

Chu Xingchen raised Wanban, testing the waters.

"If the entrance is this heavily guarded, what lies beyond must be even worse..."

Xie Lingyu cut him off. "Don’t worry about me. And I’m not leaving you behind. If we’re going, we go together."

Chu Xingchen smirked, side-eyeing her.

"You’ve definitely picked up bad habits from Baiqing—now you’re finishing my sentences."

Xie Lingyu strode forward. "You’re just too predictable."

Her hand tugged his as she led the way.

The path ahead no longer held spatial traps. Chu Xingchen remained wary, yet no further mechanisms appeared.

Had the tomb used all its tricks at the start?

Those who couldn’t enter didn’t need guarding, and those who could… couldn’t be stopped?

Either way, it was good news—far better than tripping over endless traps.

The colossal tree loomed ahead.

From afar, it resembled a tree. Up close, its trunk stood like a city wall, its sprawling form akin to a kingdom—one inhabited by spirits.

Houses hung from branches, others perched on massive boughs.

Vines formed staircases; petals adorned pathways.

Yet all this lay high above. At the roots, a dozen fully armed spirits stood waiting.

Their forms varied—some male, some female—clad in bark armor, wielding spears carved from branches.

Their intimidation factor was… lacking, to say the least.

The leader, stern-faced and armored in bark, stepped forward with gravitas.

"Outsiders, what brings you here?"

Chu Xingchen’s gaze swept over them, but his system remained silent.

Only one explanation fit:

These spirits weren’t alive.

Yet his spiritual sense detected them clearly.

Xie Lingyu glanced at Chu Xingchen, who stayed silent, then at the rigidly postured spirits.

Neither side pressed further.

An odd pause lingered.

Chu Xingchen had a theory—illusions, or perhaps echoes of the past?

It didn’t mean they were harmless, but understanding their nature helped. At least now he had a framework for what came next.

Instead of speaking, he slowly extended a hand toward the spirit.

The leader’s eyes locked onto it, then snapped up with a furious shout.

"Outsider! What are you doing? Declaring war?!"

Chu Xingchen withdrew his hand. No life, yet some autonomy remained?

After a moment, he tested the waters.

"I’m not here to fight. I’m here for a game of chess."

The spirit’s eyes narrowed. "Chess?!"

Chu Xingchen met its gaze, sincerity dripping from his tone.

"Someone promised me that if I solved the puzzle, we’d be together forever. I’ve come to fulfill that vow."

The spirit froze, then blinked in dawning realization—before its eyes flicked to Xie Lingyu… and their intertwined hands.

"You’re holding her hand… yet claim to seek our king’s promise?" The spirit’s voice dripped with confusion. "What is this?"

Xie Lingyu tried to pull away, but Chu Xingchen tightened his grip.

With flawless conviction, he declared, "Of course we’ll be together forever! Your king only said solving the puzzle would grant me that. Never specified it couldn’t be a trio!"

The leader’s face twisted in outrage. Spirits were creatures of purity, their emotions unwavering in devotion.

To these champions of true love, his words were nothing short of heresy—a verbal abomination.

Brief, yet devastatingly effective.

Unfazed by the leader’s murderous glare, Chu Xingchen pressed on.

"Any objections should come from your king. Who knows? Maybe they’d love a happy trio. Save your opinions and point me the way—if anyone gets to stab me, it’ll be them."

"Now put your twigs away and take me to your ruler. I’m eager to start our eternal bliss."

The spirit leader took several deep, shuddering breaths before finally stepping aside, defeated.

Chu Xingchen’s expression softened instantly.

"Thank you."

The leader’s face contorted anew.

This man’s words were poison.