Chapter 78: The Ancient Ruins of the Temple (Additional Update)

Deep within the jungle, an expanse of ruins sprawled, with black mist seeping out from beneath the shattered remnants. The range of these ruins was vast beyond imagination; the broken walls and crumbling edifices stretched endlessly as far as the eye could see.

A closer inspection revealed that, in ages past, this must have been an extraordinarily grand city, occupying boundless territory. Its architecture dated back to an era lost to memory, and for some unknown reason, it had met its destruction. Now, all that remained was a wasteland, buried deep within this forest of swirling mists.

“Judging by the scene, this Misty Forest must have appeared after the city was destroyed,” Yin Tianfang muttered to himself. A ruin from a forgotten age, hidden in the heart of the Misty Forest, exuded a strange gray-black fog. The trees surrounding these ruins had been transformed by the eerie mist.

Towering ancient trees stood, their trunks entirely pitch black, and even their leaves had turned ashen gray. Yet, despite their sinister appearance, the trees radiated a thriving vitality that was unsettling to behold.

Footsteps echoed from behind. Yin Tianfang’s expression shifted as he turned. A middle-aged man approached warily, scanning the surroundings as he drew closer.

“Truly relentless,” Yin Tianfang sighed inwardly. This man was utterly determined to kill him. Even after he had fled into this ominous place, the man had not abandoned the pursuit.

Sensing Yin Tianfang’s gaze, the middle-aged man looked over, his face grim, his eyes burning with hatred and murderous intent.

“Boy, I warned you—I’ll let you live in agony, unable to seek life or death!” The man’s chilling words rang out as his pace quickened, closing in on Yin Tianfang.

Faced with the endless ruins ahead, Yin Tianfang gritted his teeth, his figure flickering as he dodged the strange mist and dashed deeper into the city’s remains. The middle-aged man hesitated at the edge, but seeing that Yin Tianfang had not met with immediate danger, he followed.

Within the ruins, the ground was scored with deep, jagged cracks, like the gaping jaws of some monstrous beast, poised to devour all life, revealing the savagery of this place.

Through the wreckage, one could imagine the city’s former glory—a population of hundreds of thousands, countless palaces and towers.

A sudden snap echoed beneath his feet. Yin Tianfang looked down to see a human bone. He frowned, nudging it gently with his foot, his expression growing grave as more bones surfaced with each movement.

In an area no more than a yard across, dozens of bones were exposed, stacked in layers. Yin Tianfang’s heart stirred; with a wave of his hand, he cleared an entire patch, revealing a horrifying mound of dry bones—hundreds of people had died here in just this small corner. Whatever had transpired was lost to history; all that remained were the scattered bones, silent witnesses to a tragic past.

“Die, boy!” came a furious shout. A purple beam shot towards him. Snapping back to reality, Yin Tianfang pivoted, swiftly dodging as a streak of golden light shot from his hand.

Sparks erupted as golden and purple lights collided in midair. The force of their clash sent a savage wind howling through the ruins. The middle-aged man closed in, his palm striking out at Yin Tianfang with formidable power. The impact shattered the nearby ruins into dust, the wind scattering it to reveal more bones beneath.

With nowhere to retreat, Yin Tianfang met the strike head-on, throwing a punch that clashed against the man’s palm. The collision sounded like muffled thunder, sending shockwaves across the ground. Cracks spread out from where they stood, and the battered remnants around them were hurled into the air before being obliterated by the tempest.

Yin Tianfang grunted, stumbling backward. The middle-aged man’s face flushed as he too was forced to retreat several steps before steadying himself.

Summoning his golden short sword, Yin Tianfang dashed forward once more.

Blood spattered from his lips as he charged, his face pale.

“Foundation Establishment—what power,” he murmured, glancing back at the pursuing man. Countless thoughts raced through his mind.

“I must lose him quickly, or I’m done for,” he resolved.

The middle-aged man’s face was livid, rage boiling within him like a volcano. After chasing Yin Tianfang for so long without success and losing a powerful spiritual treasure in the process, he was incensed beyond reason. For someone of his cultivation, such a loss was intolerable.

His hatred for Yin Tianfang was as endless as the rolling river—unceasing and overwhelming. Consumed by wrath and vengeance, he would not rest until Yin Tianfang was dead. Even venturing into this uncanny place, he showed no sign of turning back. Under normal circumstances, he would never have acted so recklessly.

Their chase continued for dozens of miles, yet still, they did not reach the far side of the ruins.

Suddenly, Yin Tianfang halted. Before him yawned a massive pit, its surface shrouded in billowing gray-black mist that swirled like smoke. Echoes of countless voices seemed to wail and shout from within.

At the center of the pit stood a grand palace, majestic and imposing. Unlike the rest of the devastated city, this palace remained remarkably intact.

Dense gray-black mist poured from the palace’s depths.

A gleam of gold flickered beneath Yin Tianfang. With a thought, he soared into the pit toward the palace. The middle-aged man arrived soon after, following without hesitation.

The ancient hall was magnificent and solemn, steeped in the weight of ages. Who knew how long it had lain sealed in this place, now once more welcoming the footsteps of the living.

The entire structure shimmered with a dark golden hue, as if forged from metal, wreathed in swirling gray-black mist.

With a sharp whistle, the middle-aged man appeared before the palace. His eyes, however, were fixed solely on Yin Tianfang. Raising his hand, he sent his purple flying sword hurtling forward. The sword expanded in the wind, transforming into a giant purple blade several yards long, cleaving down toward Yin Tianfang.

Sword energy soared, shaking the very heavens. That single strike, fueled by all his rage and hatred, gathered the sum of his cultivation into one blow, determined to cut Yin Tianfang down on the spot.