Chapter 118: Flower Slave

Yin Tianfang’s vision blurred. When his sight cleared, he suddenly found himself in an utterly unfamiliar place. Surrounded by verdant mountains and clear waters, the scenery was breathtaking, and a gentle breeze carried the faint fragrance of flowers.

He surveyed his surroundings. Not far away lay a small bamboo grove, through which a babbling brook flowed. A quaint residence stood nestled within the grove, and it was from there that the floral scent wafted.

Yin Tianfang walked toward the residence. As he reached the gate, it swung open, and a figure appeared before him. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall, dancing in the breeze; she wore a gown of gossamer, her movements graceful and alluring, her every glance filled with charm.

This woman was none other than Nuolan, the one Yin Tianfang longed for day and night.

"My husband, you’ve returned!" Seeing him, a radiant smile bloomed on Nuolan's face. She moved with lotus-like steps to his side, affectionately linking her arm with his.

Yin Tianfang’s body stiffened slightly, but he allowed her to lead him into the courtyard. Inside, exotic flowers and rare herbs blossomed, their fragrance lingering in the elegant space.

Outside in reality, the Sky-Winged Demon Tiger stood in the distance, eyes fixed intently on Yin Tianfang. Seeing him continue toward the Yin Spirit Flower, the beast’s heart was in its throat. Yet, after only a few steps, Yin Tianfang stopped and stood perfectly still.

The Demon Tiger’s eyes filled with confusion. He could not see Yin Tianfang’s face and dared not approach, so he could only wait silently.

In the air, a peculiar scent permeated the area within several yards of the Yin Spirit Flower. It was this strange fragrance that had plunged Yin Tianfang into an illusion.

Within the dream, Yin Tianfang stood quietly, taking in the scene. He wished with all his heart that it were real, yet he knew it was merely a phantom. If he indulged in it, his soul would soon grow weak and be consumed by the flower, serving as nutrients for its growth.

"Husband, what’s wrong?" Nuolan asked, standing before him, her large eyes blinking with confusion as she searched his face.

Yin Tianfang took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. A crimson Sword of Slaughter appeared in his hand, and in an instant, he pierced through the figure of Nuolan.

Blood sprayed, splattering onto his face. It felt warm and hauntingly real. Nuolan’s face turned deathly pale, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Tears welled up and trickled down Yin Tianfang’s cheeks. He opened his eyes and looked at the woman before him. Even knowing it was an illusion—knowing that this Nuolan was a fabrication—the act still tore at his heart like a blade.

Before him, Nuolan’s form dissolved into motes of light, and the space around him twisted and shattered. Yin Tianfang, who had been as still as a statue, suddenly snapped his eyes open, a crimson glint flashing within them.

*Clang!* A long, blood-red sword appeared in his grip. Instantly, cold winds howled, and streams of crimson light swirled around him. A frigid killing intent swept outward, making the already freezing temperature even more biting; frost crystals began to drift through the air.

Yin Tianfang’s expression was icy, his aura radiating a terrifying bloodlust. As his white hair whipped in the wind, he took a step, causing a crack to fissure across the ground.

In the distance, the Sky-Winged Demon Tiger trembled.

"Such terrifying killing intent... this monster..."

"I had better stay out of his way from now on. If I offend this demon, I won't even know how I died," the tiger thought, his eyes darting nervously.

He finally realized just how terrifying Yin Tianfang truly was. It was not merely his cultivation, but his mental fortitude. If one were to fall into the illusion created by the Yin Spirit Flower, they would be destined to lose themselves and meet a tragic end.

The flower’s scent tapped into the deepest desires of the soul—the things one craved most but could rarely achieve. If one suddenly found everything they yearned for right in front of them, who could bear to let it go? Even a Nascent Soul cultivator might lack such mental resolve; perhaps only those who had ascended to the realm of immortals could resist such temptation.

That Yin Tianfang, a mere Golden Core cultivator, could break free by his own will proved the terrifying strength of his spirit.

He walked toward the Yin Spirit Flower, his crimson eyes filled with piercing intent. The surrounding fragrance could no longer affect him.

The Yin Spirit Flower trembled, seemingly sensing the approaching danger.

Now only three yards away, Yin Tianfang could clearly see blurred faces etched upon the petals of the flower. It was a gruesome sight.

Yin Tianfang stopped. He knew from the jade slip detailing the "Threefold Arts" that every spiritual herb had its own unique properties. He understood that the Yin Spirit Flower was far more than a mere creator of illusions.

Suddenly, the faces on the petals sharpened, and a streak of light shot into the ground. Yin Tianfang felt a jolt of alarm as the earth erupted, and three coffins burst forth.

The lids flew open, and three figures rose from within, leaping out to charge at him. Yin Tianfang’s expression remained unchanged; he had anticipated this.

Once a Yin Spirit Flower grew nine leaves, it would undergo a transformation, gaining sentience and becoming a demonic entity. Although this one had only eight leaves, it was not to be underestimated. Beyond its hallucinogenic scent, it possessed lethal defensive measures.

These three figures were the flower's most formidable guards. They had been dead for ages, yet under the flower's control, they launched an attack.

They were no longer human; they were "Flower Slaves." Sensing their aura, Yin Tianfang realized they had been terrifyingly powerful in life, comparable to peak Golden Core cultivators.

The Yin Spirit Flower was truly unfathomable, having claimed the lives of three peak Golden Core cultivators and turned them into slaves to guard its growth.

*Boom!*

Three terrifying auras surged toward the sky, whipping up violent gales. Powerful energy erupted from their death-laden bodies.

Instantly, the natural energy of the world began to boil. Under the impact of these three powerful auras, Yin Tianfang’s expression grew increasingly grave.