Immortal Path in the Palm of a Mortal's Hand

Bypassing the first barrier, Chen Fan began moving deeper into the desolate forest. He moved slowly, stopping every few steps to carefully probe ahead and beneath his feet with his divine sense. The armored creature, perched on its shoulders, its whiskers swaying constantly, occasionally pointing to a particular spot—a sign that it had sensed abnormal spiritual energy. Chen Fan followed its directions, carefully examining the areas indicated, and always managed to discover traces of barriers barely visible to the naked eye.

A man and an insect walk slowly through the desolate forest.

An hour passed, and they had traveled less than three miles.

Within that hour, he discovered seven remnants of the protective barrier. Three were completely ineffective, leaving only faint runes. Two were partially intact, which he and Ironclad had detected beforehand and avoided. One was triggered by a withered branch, exhausting its remaining power. The last one, on the trunk of a dead tree, about three feet above the ground, was engraved with a ring of extremely inconspicuous runes. The runes were dim, almost blending into the bark; if Ironclad's whiskers hadn't suddenly pointed at the tree as they passed by, he would have had no chance of noticing it.

Chen Fan touched the rune from the side with a withered branch. The rune suddenly lit up, and a gray beam of light, about the thickness of a finger, shot out from the tree trunk and struck another withered tree opposite. The bark at the point of impact instantly turned to ash, leaving a fist-sized hole with smooth, mirror-like edges.

If it had been him who just walked by, this beam of light would have pierced his chest.

Chen Fan glanced at the hole, then looked at the armor. The armor wiggled its whiskers a few times, seemingly quite pleased with itself. Chen Fan took a small piece of spirit stone fragment from his storage bag and offered it to the armor's mouth. The armor immediately grabbed it and began to gnaw on it.

move on.

After traveling for about two more hours, the desolate forest gradually thinned out. Chen Fan stopped at the edge of a relatively open clearing, leaned against a thick, withered tree, swallowed a Bigu Pill to replenish his strength, and at the same time extended his divine sense to its limit of twenty zhang, repeatedly scanning his surroundings.

To date, I have not met a single person.

The forbidden area was teleported to random locations. Over two hundred disciples from the seven sects were scattered and sent to various parts of the forbidden area. Some landed directly in the depths, some on the edge, and some immediately encountered restrictions or demonic beasts upon landing. He had not seen any trace of cultivators, nor any fresh corpses or signs of battle along the way, which proved that this area was quite remote.

This is both good news and bad news.

The good thing is that there's no need to fight for the time being. The bad thing is that the remoteness means that spiritual herbs are probably scarce here. Along the way, apart from withered trees and decaying leaves, not a single decent spiritual herb has been seen. According to the sect's records, spiritual herbs mostly grow in the depths of forbidden areas where the spiritual energy is more concentrated. Even if there were any in the peripheral areas, they had long been picked clean by the disciples who entered on previous trips.

We must go deeper!

After regulating his breathing for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Chen Fan stood up again. He used the changes in brightness of the crimson light membrane in the sky to determine his direction. Although there were no sun, moon, or stars in the forbidden area, the crimson light membrane itself had its own alternation of light and darkness. The brightest point of the light membrane roughly corresponded to the center of the forbidden area. This was an experience summarized by senior disciples; although not entirely accurate, it was better than blindly wandering around.

He set off again, heading in the direction where the light membrane was brightest.

At the edge of the desolate forest lay a low hill. Covered in a dark red moss, it was soft and slippery underfoot, like walking on flesh and blood. Chen Fan paused at the edge of the hill, carefully probing with his divine sense. The density of restrictions here was lower than in the desolate forest, perhaps due to the open terrain, making it easier for ancient restrictions to be triggered and depleted. However, the open view also meant it was easier for other cultivators to detect him.

He kept a low profile, using the undulating hills as cover, and advanced quickly and cautiously.

One hour. Two hours.

Still, I haven't met a single person.

However, the disordered spiritual energy was intensifying. The hazy fog in the air grew thicker, and the suppression of spiritual sense increased accordingly. After entering the hilly area, the range of spiritual sense coverage had been further compressed from twenty zhang to about fifteen zhang. The armor's sensing distance was also affected, and the frequency of its whiskers swaying noticeably slowed down.

After venturing into the hilly area for about thirty miles, Chen Fan stopped at the entrance of a narrow valley.

The valley wasn't large, with steep, sheer dark red cliffs on both sides, and a narrow passage only about ten feet wide running through the middle. At the end of the passage, a slightly more open valley floor could be vaguely seen, with a faint light flickering in the center. Chen Fan didn't rush in; he first scanned the area around the valley entrance repeatedly with his divine sense. There were no signs of any restrictions. The armored creature's whiskers swayed slightly, offering no warning.

However, he still did not set off.

Fresh marks remained on the ground at the valley entrance. The gravel had been ground into winding, grooved channels, more than a foot wide. The moss had been worn away from the edges of the gravel, revealing the dark red rock beneath. He crouched down, lightly rubbing his fingertips on the marks, which then became coated with a very fine, sticky substance.

The path snaked. And it was a new trail.

Chen Fan slowly rose, his gaze following the winding trail into the valley. The trail disappeared five zhang inside the valley entrance, obscured by protruding rocks. After a moment's thought, he took out the Golden Flame Spirit-Slaying Blade from his storage bag and held it in his right hand, while his left hand held three fireball talismans. The armored figure leaped off its shoulders, its six legs slightly bent, and lay prone on the ground, entering a battle-ready stance.

He stepped into the valley.

The passage was narrow and cramped, with the rock walls on either side almost brushing against each other. Every step was taken very slowly, cautiously probing with the toes to ensure there were no obstructions before stepping forward. The armored figure led the way, its tentacles pressed tightly against the ground, sensing the slightest anomaly.

Five zhang. Ten zhang.

Dark brown patterns gradually appeared on the rock face, like dried splatter. Chen Fan scraped off a small amount with the tip of his knife and brought it close to his nose—it was blood. It had long since dried, its spiritual energy completely dissipated, leaving only a fishy smell.

The hand gripping the knife tightened.

The passage has come to an end.

The valley was slightly larger than expected, about ten zhang square, surrounded by steep cliffs on all sides, with only a narrower crevice leading into the depths directly opposite. In the center was a small, deep green pool, its surface still and lifeless. Beside the pool, a spiritual herb took root—its entire body was fiery red, with feathery leaves, and at its tip was a thumb-sized fruit, its crimson surface shimmering with a faint light.

A century-old Vermilion Fruit! It's worth at least two hundred spirit stones in the market, and even more in the sect's purchase price.

However, Chen Fan's gaze lingered on the vermilion fruit for only a moment before falling towards the pool.

A snake was coiled up by the pool.

The snake's body was as thick as an adult's arm, entirely crimson, covered in fine scales with a faint golden sheen at the edges, and over ten feet long. Its head was triangular, with a dark red stripe on each side running from the corner of its eye to its neck. Coiled up, its head rested on its body, its eyes tightly closed, as if asleep. Even in its slumber, a wisp of pale red mist would occasionally escape from its mouth; upon touching the ground, the moss would instantly wither and turn black.

Crimson Scale Python! A first-tier high-grade demonic beast, its strength is comparable to a cultivator at the twelfth or thirteenth level of Qi Refining.

Chen Fan knew that demonic beasts below the fifth rank did not possess demon cores. He slowly retreated into the shadows of the passage, leaning against the rock wall, pondering his next move.

The Crimson Scale Python's defense is among the best of its kind. Its skin is tough and difficult to damage with ordinary magical artifacts, except for the seven-inch mark—the junction of the snake's neck and body, where a triangular light-colored scale is the weakest point on its entire body.

However, the seven-inch mark is also its most heavily guarded point. In combat, it will always raise its head and coil its body, hiding its seven-inch mark behind its back.

We must use talismans to restrain them and create openings!

Chen Fan retrieved the three fireball talismans and exchanged them for five ice cone talismans. The Crimson Scale Python was of the fire element and had extremely high resistance to fire attacks. The ice cone talismans were of the water element and had a restraining effect on the fire element. He recalled Ironclad and sent a divine command, instructing it to lie in wait on the other side of the pool, where it would strike the python's eyes from the side.

With a light tap of its barbels, the armored creature silently circled around to the side of the pool.

Once the armored vehicle was in place, Chen Fan took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows.

He deliberately increased the intensity of his steps.

The sound of gravel scraping against each other was exceptionally clear in the silent valley. The Crimson-Scaled Python's eyelids snapped open, revealing a pair of dark golden vertical pupils, cold and ruthless. The snake's head slowly rose, turning towards Chen Fan, and the red mist in its mouth suddenly thickened.