The legend begins with becoming a white deer.

"These are actually...!"

Su Yanji stood there, her fingertips trembling slightly.

She had been in charge of the Wanhua Chamber of Commerce for many years, traveling all over the country, and had seen dead people before.

She had witnessed feuds and massacres in the martial arts world, as well as horrific massacres and natural disasters. She believed that her heart had long been hardened by the vicissitudes of life.

But now, looking at the rows of small stone sculptures in front of her and listening to the girl's heart-wrenching cries as she held her petrified, dead brother, she felt as if an invisible hand was gripping her chest tightly, making it hard to breathe.

Su Yanji hadn't been unaware that a child would die at the hands of human traffickers.

She had thought about it, which is why she told Qi Ji not to take action beforehand, but instead to sneak in quietly.

But she never imagined that these children would die in this way.

Living people are slowly eroded by evil magic, their skin, flesh, and bones turning into cold, stiff stones. They can't even utter a final cry of pain. They die like discarded junk, piled up and thrown into the dark, sunless underground palace.

Before she could calm herself down, several more small figures stumbled and rushed out from the group of children.

The little girl with pigtails rushed to a slightly taller stone sculpture of a girl, hugged the stone figure around the waist, and choked out "Sister!"

A thin little boy knelt before a stone sculpture of a toddler, his forehead pressed against the cold stone surface, his lips trembling as he called out for his younger brother, tears falling onto the bluish-gray stone, splashing up fine, wet streaks.

Many of these kidnapped children were already brothers and sisters who had fallen on hard times together.

The older siblings protected the younger ones all the way, clinging to life and waiting for a way out, only to find their loved ones turned into lifeless stone sculptures in the end.

More children ran away from Qi Ji, then quickly returned, their small bodies huddled around his legs, their faces upturned and streaked with tears.

"Deer God...please save my sister...she's not breathing anymore!"

"My lord, my parents say that gods can do anything. Please make my little brother soft again... He's so cold and hard."

"White Deer...Brother...Don't want stones...I want brother to hug me..."

The children's voices were immature and fragmented; some couldn't even form complete sentences.

The titles also varied; some called them immortals, some called them deer gods, and others vaguely followed the spirits and called them sir.

That plea, squeezed from the depths of despair, was as heavy as a mountain, crashing down on people's hearts.

Qi Ji looked down at them, his golden deer-like eyes swirling with complex emotions.

He wanted to help these children, but he knew he couldn't save them.

The Breath of Life can heal serious illnesses, mend broken bones, and even pull people back from the brink of death.

But the premise is that he has only recently died.

These children, who were completely turned into stone statues, had been dead for as long as three days, and as long as half a month, far exceeding the time limit for the "Breath of Life" to bring them back to life.

Looking at the pairs of eyes red from crying, and at those small, timid hands clutching his mane, Qi Ji sighed softly in his heart.

"Fine, let's try one more time."

The next moment, a dazzling golden light burst forth from Qi Ji's body, and [Breath of Life] was activated once again.

Under the cover of night, the golden light rose like a small sun, illuminating the entire open space.

Countless golden threads of light, like a gentle drizzle, fell densely from the antlers, precisely infusing each child stone sculpture.

Seeing this, everyone held their breath.

Su Yanji gripped the long sword in his hand tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Xu Ling clasped his hands together and chanted Buddhist mantras in a low voice.

The children surrounding them forgot to cry, their round eyes fixed on the stone sculptures, their eyes filled with tiny hopes.

The time it took to breathe felt like an entire year.

The golden light gradually faded.

Sure enough, the surfaces of these bluish-gray stone carvings changed.

The cold stone gradually softened, revealing a faint skin tone. Even the hair and eyebrows became clearer. It was no longer a rigid stone carving, but rather a lifelike wax figure, barely standing between stone and flesh.

But that's all.

No heartbeat, no breathing, no open eyes.

It remained deathly silent.

A suppressed sigh rose from the surroundings.

The children, who had just been full of anticipation, suddenly burst into tears.

This time, the crying contained a deeper, more utter despair than before.

"It failed after all."

A hint of helplessness flashed across Qi Ji's eyes.

Just now, he secretly consumed a whole year's worth of lifespan, pushing the intensity of the [Breath of Life] to several times its normal limit, but it was ultimately useless.

Qi Ji could clearly sense that the souls within these small bodies had long since dissipated.

Even if he were to waste another ten or a hundred years of his lifespan, at most he would only be able to completely transform the stone into flesh and blood, which would be nothing more than lifeless shells.

Once a person is dead, their soul is gone, and even the strongest life force cannot conjure a life out of thin air.

"Amitabha."

The young monk Xuling softly chanted a Buddhist prayer, his face filled with compassion.

"Lord Bailu, you have done your best. At least... when you are buried, these children will still retain their childlike appearance."

Su Yanji closed her eyes briefly, and a tear slid down her cheek and disappeared into her temple.

When she opened her eyes again, all that remained in them was a chilling coldness and murderous intent.

The Five Guards immediately responded, dragging a person and slamming him to the ground—it was Duan Chi.

His limbs had already been broken by the Five Elements Guard, and he lay sprawled on the ground like a lump of mud, his face pale and his forehead covered in cold sweat.

Su Yanji walked up to him, and used the tip of her sword to lift his chin: "Tell me, what exactly did you do to these children? Tell me everything from beginning to end, without missing a single word."

Duan Chi was in so much pain that his whole body convulsed. His gaze swept over the more than one hundred children who had stopped being petrified and were now standing alive, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He never imagined that the petrification he saw as unsolvable would one day be reversed.

But when he looked at the rows of half-flesh, half-stone child statues next to him, Duan Chi suddenly laughed.

His laughter was hoarse, carrying a kind of reckless madness.

"Hehe, what's wrong? Can't be saved?"

Duan Chi ignored Su Yanji and instead looked at the white giant deer that stood out even in the darkness, his eyes filled with resentment and mockery.

Duan Chi clearly knew that this white deer was the spirit beast white deer that the fierce monk had mentioned, and also the culprit that destroyed his base.

"The spirit beast, the white deer, truly lives up to its name. But a beast is a beast. What good are its abilities? They're all long dead. These little devils are all dead beyond repair. No matter how capable you are, you can't bring them back. They'll only become stones!"

"Duan Chi, you're asking for death."

Su Yanji's eyes sharpened, and a flash of sword light appeared.

"Pfft~"

"ah--!"

Duan Chi let out a shrill scream as his right leg was cleanly severed, splattering blood all over the ground.

On the other side, the ethereal spirit slowly walked up to the fierce monk.

The vicious monk lay on the ground, blood flowing from his seven orifices, his chest rising and falling weakly; he was at his last gasp.

"You were originally a disciple of Wanfo Temple and were influenced by Buddhist teachings."

The spirit looked at him, its voice low but carrying a heavy question: "Even if you betrayed your sect and fled, how could you stoop to such a low level? Kidnapping children and using evil magic on them—such utter depravity! Aren't you afraid of karmic retribution?"

The wicked monk opened his eyes and saw a young monk standing in front of him. He was taken aback at first, then sneered.

The laughter was hoarse and unpleasant, filled with deep disdain: "Buddhism? What use is that bullshit? Can it buy you cultivation or immortality? I can do whatever I want, what right do you, a little bald monk, have to lecture me?"

The ethereal spirit frowned even more deeply: "What exactly is this petrification spell on those children? What are you trying to do?"

The gruesome monk glanced at him sideways, a malicious smile creeping onto his lips: "What, want to know?"

He coughed up blood and said in a sinister tone, "I advise you not to know. The more you know, the less likely you are to die without even knowing how."

Upon seeing this, one of the Five Elements Guardians flew into a rage, drew his sword, and was about to step forward to cut off one of the monk's arms.

Just then, a clear, cold female voice suddenly came from not far away.

"I know what you want to know."

"!"

Everyone was startled and looked in the direction of the sound.

In the darkness, a woman dressed in black slowly emerged, her steps so light they seemed to float on the ground.

She was slender and beautiful, and was holding two small children in her arms.

Everyone immediately went on high alert.

"Halt! Who are you?"

The Five Guards immediately stepped in front of Su Yanji, their swords already drawn.

The spirit also subconsciously took half a step forward, blocking the children's way.

Qi Ji's gaze fell on the woman in black, and surprise flickered in his golden deer eyes.

"The aura emanating from this woman in black... is so strange?"

Qi Ji sensed an extremely strange aura emanating from this woman, like a spirit beast, yet not quite.

Moreover, the woman in black possessed extremely weak vitality, even weaker than that of an elderly mortal; it was almost nonexistent, as if it would dissipate within a few days...