Chương 153: Chapter 42: Hidden Secrets

"Seven-Colored Golden Frogs!" A disciple of the Tongtian Gang from You Province gasped, his eyes igniting with a sudden, predatory greed. He stood at the precipice of a festering marsh, his gaze locked onto two small creatures basking lazily in the midday sun about fifteen yards away. These beasts were diminutive, no larger than a child's palm, yet they were draped in magnificent, iridescent scales that shimmered with a soft, hypnotic luster under the solar glare.

Despite their amphibian silhouette, their curves were unnervingly elegant, possessing an aesthetic charm that bypassed the natural revulsion most felt for swamp-dwellers.

"I saw a single specimen of this species at a high-end auction once. The final bid soared past several thousand low-grade spirit stones," the disciple muttered, his breath hitching.

"If I can secure these two and sell them once I exit the Trial Realm, it'll be a windfall unlike any other." Without hesitation, he slapped his storage bag, retrieving a specialized net-type artifact. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he hurled the treasure into the air.

"Bind!" he roared, channeling his spiritual essence. The artifact expanded mid-air, its fibers glowing with restrictive runes. Within a heartbeat, it transformed into a massive web, ten feet in diameter, descending like a falling sky upon the unsuspecting frogs. Croak! The moment the cultivator struck, the two frogs flipped onto their bellies, their previously lethargic eyes snapping into cold, reptilian slits. As the net plummeted, they unleashed a synchronized, piercing shriek.

Two jets of pitch-black water erupted from their tiny maws, striking the shimmering mesh with pinpoint accuracy. A violent, corrosive sizzling erupted instantly. The black liquid bubbled and hissed, eating through the spiritual reinforcements of the net with terrifying speed. The Tongtian Gang disciple's heart skipped a beat. These were supposed to be First-grade, low-tier beasts—docile creatures prized for their aesthetics and harmless water-spells. Since when did they possess such lethal, soul-chilling toxicity?

Despite the damage, the net's spiritual light held long enough to entangle the pair. Relief washed over him, and he began the hand seals to recall his prize. However, his fingers froze mid-motion. His eyes widened, bulging with a primal, suffocating terror. From the depths of the stagnant mud, thousands of Seven-Colored Golden Frogs emerged. They covered the marsh like a living, iridescent carpet, their cold, emotionless eyes all converging on him with singular, murderous intent. Croak! Croak! Croak!

A cacophony of shrieks tore through the air. The sheer volume of the sonic wave struck the cultivator like a physical hammer, shattering his concentration and rattling his soul. He stumbled back, coughing up a spray of crimson blood. Before he could recover, the sea of frogs opened their mouths in unison. Thousands of black water-arrows surged forward, a tidal wave of venomous death that blotted out the sun.

If two arrows could corrode a spiritual net, this many would dissolve him into nothingness in a fraction of a second. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. His pupils shrank to pinpricks. With a desperate roar, he crushed the Trial Stone in his palm. A surge of spatial energy erupted, manifesting a ghostly teleportation array around his trembling form. The light flickered, ready to whisk him to safety. But the frogs were faster.

A single, stray jet of black venom accelerated, slicing through the air and drenching his right arm just as the space warped.

"AGGGHHH!" A blood-curdling scream echoed through the clearing. The teleportation light vanished, taking the disciple with it, leaving behind only a charred, rotting arm that hit the mud with a sickening thud. Elsewhere, a streak of red light descended cautiously onto the rim of a dormant volcano. The light dissipated to reveal a lone cultivator. He had changed his robes, stripping away any identifying sect markings to remain an anonymous shadow in this treacherous realm.

"A century ago, my Master entered this Trial Realm and discovered three Earth-Core Flame Pellets. By refining the pure subterranean essence within them, he mastered the devastating Burning Heaven Black Fire and used that power to break through to the Golden Core stage!" He chuckled darkly, his voice raspy.

"The Sect Master and the Elders always suspected he was hiding something, but as long as he keeps his mouth shut, they'll never know the truth. My luck is holding—I was teleported right into the sector Master mapped out. If I search thoroughly, the legacy is mine." He pressed a jade slip to his forehead, scanning the ancient coordinates. His face lit up with manic joy.

"Twelve meters below the northern rim... right there!" He wasn't a fool, however. He hovered over the crater and flicked two low-grade Fireball talismans downward. Boom! The explosions rocked the brown volcanic rock, sending debris tumbling into the depths. He waited, his Divine Sense sweeping the area for hidden predators or traps. Sensing nothing, he activated a protective barrier and dove into the heat-shimmering abyss.

Fifteen minutes later, a red streak shot out of the volcano, the cultivator's face flushed with triumph as he vanished into the distance. Under a clear, azure sky, a streak of light landed atop a jagged hill. Yang Dawei emerged, his expression tight with caution. He swept the perimeter with his Divine Sense, ensuring no eyes were watching. Once satisfied, he moved with clinical efficiency, planting a dozen formation flags in a precise pattern.

A shimmer of illusory light rippled through the air, and the hill appeared empty once more, hiding his presence from the world. Inside the safety of the ward, Yang Dawei pulled a palm-sized, purple jade talisman from his storage bag. He injected a burst of spiritual power, causing the artifact to hum with a soft, violet glow. Two distinct white dots began to pulse on the surface of the jade. A grin broke through his stoic mask.

"Elder Cheng's Sub-Mother Jade Talisman actually works. The signal is clear."

"The plan is in motion," he whispered to the shadows. Perched high within the canopy of an ancient tree, Li Zhupu held her breath, her aura completely suppressed. Suddenly, her eyes brightened. She retrieved a smaller purple talisman, watching as two white dots flickered into existence on its surface.

"Senior Brother isn't far. At my current speed, I can reach the rendezvous point within half a day." Deep within a jagged mountain ravine, Zi Luanxing was locked in a fierce struggle with a Level 2 demon beast that had stumbled into his hideout. Sensing a vibration from his storage bag, his expression shifted. He unleashed a devastating flurry of strikes, obliterating the beast in a shower of gore. He pulled out his own purple talisman, a cold smile touching his lips.

Without a word, he took to the sky, a streak of light heading toward the signal. A flash of azure light tore through the low-altitude clouds, moving with such velocity that it left a sonic wake in its path. Suddenly, the light screeched to a halt before a towering, ancient tree. Reyn stepped out of the glow, his brow furrowing as his Divine Sense picked up a peculiar spiritual signature. His gaze locked onto a thick vine clinging to the bark of the tree.

Hanging from the vine was a cluster of agate-colored fruits, each the size of a pebble, radiating a dense, concentrated energy. He counted them—exactly eleven berries.

"A Ten-Thousand-Year Vine!" Reyn's eyes flashed with rare excitement. This wasn't just a medicinal herb; it was a treasure of the earth. He reached out, and a massive hand of azure spiritual energy materialized, reaching forth to claim the ancient bounty.