Liu Xingzhi's eyes were cold, his blade moving faster and faster until even Song Wanníng could only catch a blur. With every sweeping arc, blood mist filled the mine, splattering across the walls like crimson rain.
"Chiii—!"
The cave echoed with endless screams, sharp and bone-chilling. Some of the monsters panicked and tried to flee back into the crack.
Song Wanníng's figure flashed, blocking the narrow fissure in an instant. Every monster that came at her died on the spot. Her sword rose and fell cleanly, without a hint of hesitation.
Trapped with nowhere to run, the monsters lashed out in desperation, but they were no match for the two of them.
Just as they thought it was over, a piercing shriek cut through the air. The remaining monsters suddenly gathered together, their bodies fusing into one massive creature before their eyes.
Song Wanníng's gaze hardened. The monster's blood-red eyes now had pupils, dark and cold, staring straight at Liu Xingzhi with venomous hatred.
"Chiii—!"
It screamed again, lunging at him.
Liu Xingzhi's expression turned frigid as he swung his blade forward. But this one was far stronger than the others. Even when his blade cut across its body, it left only a shallow wound.
Song Wanníng's heart sank. She quickly tried to recall if any of the previous monsters had shown this kind of change. But no, none of them had. Even in the memories of the Golden Dragon Clan, there was nothing like this.
"Could it be that the monsters had evolved?" The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She carefully reviewed every strange detail she'd noticed in her sea of consciousness, and suddenly, something clicked.
The fused monster's eyes—there was something different about them. They were still blood-red, but unlike the others, this one had a hint of white. Just a small trace, but it was there.
A mutation?
If that was true, it would explain everything. But it also made things a whole lot worse.
If these monsters could merge and mutate into stronger forms, then wiping them out would be almost impossible. If several powerful ones joined together, even Unity cultivators might not stand a chance.
Song Wanníng quickly recorded everything she'd observed and sent it straight to Luo Hantian, including her suspicions.
After receiving her message, he immediately relayed it to the other major factions. This matter couldn't be ignored any longer.
Inside the mine, Liu Xingzhi moved like lightning, his blade slashing faster with each swing. Finally, the mutated monster collapsed into a pool of blood. He hadn't killed it outright, wanting to study its changes more closely.
But just as Song Wanníng stepped forward, the creature's body split apart, turning into several wriggling black masses that tried to escape.
She and Liu Xingzhi reacted at the same time, their blades flashing as they struck down the fleeing fragments.
"Chiii—!"
The monsters twitched violently, then fell still. Their blood, once crimson, slowly seeped into the ground and turned green.
After confirming there were no more monsters nearby, Song Wanníng and Liu Xingzhi approached and crouched beside the bodies.
"Senior Brother Liu, look… their blood's strange. Do you think they were poisoned? Or maybe they ate something they shouldn't have?" Her heart thumped hard in her chest.
She leaned toward the first possibility. If someone was breeding these monsters, deliberately mutating them, then their ambition was beyond terrifying.
Liu Xingzhi seemed to have the same thought. He carefully collected a sample of the blood into a small bottle and handed it to her.
"Let's find a quiet place to analyze it before deciding our next move."
"Alright."
She took the bottle, cleaned up the battlefield, and followed him out of the mine.
Meanwhile, Luo Hantian's investigation had hit a wall.
Lanyuan Auction House had existed for over a century, yet not a single person knew who the owner was. That was far too suspicious. Still, he'd managed to uncover one thing: for the past decade or so, Lanyuan had been auctioning "maps" every one or two months.
Each time, the story behind the map was different, but they were all sold. Because of the private nature of these auctions, no one ever knew who the final buyers were—or what became of them afterward. That was why no one had ever discovered anything unusual all these years.
If Song Wanníng hadn't stumbled upon it, no one would've paid attention to a random auction, let alone realized the danger hiding behind it.
Luo Hantian reported everything he'd found to the two of them.
Song Wanníng's expression darkened. After analyzing the blood, she'd confirmed that it contained traces of poison—but it was a kind she'd never seen before. It didn't match any known toxic herbs she was familiar with.
"The monsters have been exposed, but we don't know if the people behind them are aware of it," she said seriously. "Sect master, we'll need to coordinate with the other forces on this matter. Keep searching for the monsters, but do it quietly. We can't alert the enemy."
She stored the bottle in her storage ring and continued, "Lanyuan's not too far from here. Let's head there next. Maybe we'll find some clues."
Now that the monsters were dead, she couldn't tell if whoever was behind them would notice.
"Alright," Luo Hantian replied. "Be careful. I'll dig deeper into the factions connected to Lanyuan. Maybe we'll find a lead."
He'd originally thought this was just a small monster problem, but now it had spiraled into something far more complicated.
Troublesome indeed.
"Let's go. Time to check out Lanyuan."
Song Wanníng rose and started walking. She'd long since grown used to Liu Xingzhi's quiet nature. He never objected to her decisions, so she didn't need to waste time explaining.
She actually preferred working with people like him.
…
At Lanyuan Auction House, the place was bustling. The hall was packed with people, and the dazzling display of items up for bid made it impossible to look away. But none of the items were particularly valuable, which was why most of the attendees were loose cultivators or members of small clans.
Everyone thought Lanyuan was simply a low-tier auction house, nothing compared to the major powers.
But Song Wanníng saw it differently.
It was intentional.
If they'd allowed high-ranking families or sects to attend, someone might've noticed the pattern. And if a disciple from a large clan died afterward, the sect would've investigated, risking exposure. That was why Lanyuan kept its auctions limited and deliberately small, ensuring the crowd was always made up of loose cultivators.
Even if every last one of them died, no one would care. And so, the secret remained buried.