As shadows crept closer, constricting his movements, Wei Lin's hand slipped into his storage ring. If skill and qi weren't enough, perhaps wealth could tip the scales. The Wei Clan's resources had opened doors for him throughout his life; perhaps they could open one more.

"You believe you've won already," Wei Lin called out, his voice stronger than he felt. "But merchants always keep something in reserve."

With a flick of his wrist, he produced a small jade box from his storage ring.

Zhao Xun's eyes narrowed. "A treasure? How quaint."

Wei Lin didn't waste breath responding. Instead, he channeled a surge of spiritual energy into the box, activating its dormant formations. The lid snapped open, releasing a blinding flash of golden light that momentarily pushed back the encroaching shadows.

From within the box rose a palm-sized mirror of polished bronze, its surface etched with concentric circles of microscopic runes. The Inverse Mirror of Elder Zhou, a treasure Wei Lin's father had acquired at tremendous cost from a dying Formation Master.

"Reflect," Wei Lin commanded, pouring his remaining qi into the artifact.

The mirror trembled, then emitted a high-pitched whine as it absorbed the ambient shadow energy surrounding them. For a brief moment, the oppressive weight of Zhao Xun's domain lightened, the darkness receding as the mirror drank it in.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the mirror released its stored energy back toward Zhao Xun. not as shadow, but as purified light.

The concentrated beam struck the demonic cultivator in the chest, burning through his robes and searing the flesh beneath. Zhao Xun howled in pain, stumbling backward as wisps of smoke rose from the charred wound.

"You little—" he snarled, one hand clutching his injured torso.

Wei Lin didn't allow him to recover. From his storage ring, he produced a second treasure, the Resonance Bells of the Wind Valley Sect, a string of nine copper bells, each no larger than his thumbnail.

He cast the bells into the air, where they hung suspended, vibrating at increasing frequencies. Each bell targeted a different meridian point, disrupting the flow of energy required to maintain Zhao Xun's domain.

The shadow-infused ground beneath them flickered, momentarily revealing the natural forest floor before the demonic manifestation reasserted itself.

"Toys," Zhao Xun spat, though his voice held a note of strain that hadn't been there before. "You think trinkets can save you from the Devouring Cathedral?"

Wei Lin didn't rely solely on his treasures. Seizing the momentary advantage, he pulled from his wind and lightning stalls simultaneously, creating a devastating combination attack, arcs of electricity riding whirling currents of air that slammed into Zhao Xun from multiple angles.

Blood sprayed from fresh wounds as the lightning-laced wind cut into the demonic cultivator's flesh. For the first time since their battle began, Wei Lin saw genuine pain on Zhao Xun's face.

But it didn't last.

"Hungry Shadow Scripture, Third Movement: Consuming Adaptation," Zhao Xun growled.

The shadows surrounding him suddenly churned with renewed vigor, surging toward the hovering bells. One by one, the bells were enveloped in darkness, their resonance faltering, then stopping completely as they fell to the ground, lifeless and dull.

Simultaneously, the wound on Zhao Xun's chest began to close, darkness flowing into the injury like living thread weaving flesh back together.

"An impressive collection of treasures," Zhao Xun admitted, straightening as his wounds healed. "Your clan has invested well in you. But the Hungry Shadow Scripture doesn't just consume energy, it devours concepts themselves."

The remaining light from the Inverse Mirror dimmed as shadows crawled across its surface, corrupting the formations etched into the bronze. With a pitiful chime, the mirror cracked down the center, its power extinguished.

"The concept of reflection... consumed," Zhao Xun said with savage satisfaction. "The concept of resonance... devoured."

Wei Lin stumbled backward, genuine fear gripping him as his most valuable treasures were neutralized one after another. He reached into his storage ring again, fingers closing around a small orb that pulsed with energy so potent it made his meridians ache just from proximity.

The Nine Heavens Thunder Pearl, it was his father's parting gift before he left for the sect, to be used only in the most desperate circumstances.

"You should feel honored," Wei Lin said, holding the pearl aloft. Its surface crackled with miniature lightning bolts, illuminating the shadow domain with harsh, blue-white light. "This treasure could kill a Stellar Realm cultivator if used correctly.”

For the first time, genuine alarm flashed across Zhao Xun's face as he recognized the artifact. "The Nine Heavens Thunder Pearl," he whispered, taking an involuntary step back. "Where would a mere merchant clan acquire such a treasure?"

Wei Lin didn't answer. Instead, he crushed the pearl between his palms, feeling its incredible power surge into his meridians. Lightning arced from his body in all directions, burning away the shadows and revealing glimpses of the forest beyond the domain.

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Zhao Xun's expression shifted from alarm to calculation, then to a cruel smile. He withdrew a black medallion from within his robes. The artifact was simple in appearance, an obsidian disk inscribed with characters so ancient they seemed to predate written language itself.

"The Void Eater's Seal," Zhao Xun explained, holding it toward the lightning storm emanating from Wei Lin. "You're not the first wealthy disciple I've hunted, little merchant. The rich ones always have their little surprises." He smiled, revealing those unnaturally sharp teeth. "And I've learned to come prepared."

The medallion pulsed once, emitting a wave of absolute darkness that consumed the lightning wherever they touched. Wei Lin watched in horror as his ultimate defense was systematically devoured, the tremendously powerful energy of the Thunder Pearl simply disappearing into the black disk.

Within seconds, the lightning was gone, leaving Wei Lin depleted and defenseless. The Seven-Hued Immortal's Shield gave one final flicker before shattering completely, the fragments dissolving into motes of light that were quickly swallowed by the surrounding shadows.

Wei Lin fell to his knees, his body trembling from the backlash of the Pearl's energy being ripped away. His storage ring still contained other treasures, but he lacked the strength to utilize them.

"A valiant effort," Zhao Xun acknowledged, tucking the Void Eater's Seal back into his robes as he approached Wei Lin's kneeling form. "Most disciples would have been dead long before this point. I'll be sure to appreciate your resilience when I add your marketplace to my collection."

Wei Lin struggled to rise, but tendrils of darkness erupted from the membrane-like surface beneath him, wrapping around his limbs and torso, immobilizing him completely.

"A clever little merchant with clever little toys," Zhao Xun continued, kneeling beside Wei Lin's restrained form, black eyes with their blood-red rings reflecting no light. "But as I said earlier, I am not a regular eighth-stage cultivator."

Wei Lin struggled against the bindings, but each movement only caused them to tighten further. His treasures had failed, his spiritual energy was nearly depleted, his conversion techniques hampered by the oppressive environment of Zhao Xun's partially manifested inner world.

But in his inner marketplace, something was happening.

The accumulated shadow energy had reached some kind of critical mass, interacting with both his eighth and developing ninth stalls in ways he hadn't anticipated. The demonic seed at the center of his eighth stall pulsed with intensifying darkness, while the outline of the ninth stall grew increasingly distinct.

"Crimson Vein Sect," Wei Lin gasped, trying to buy time as these developments continued in his inner world. "I've never heard of it."

"Few have," Zhao Xun replied, seeming pleased by this recognition of his sect's discretion. "We prefer to operate in shadow, harvesting what we need without drawing undue attention from the righteous sects." His hand hovered over Wei Lin's chest, darkness gathering at his fingertips. "The righteous sects would execute me if they found me, but they're far too preoccupied with politics to notice a few missing disciples here and there."

Wei Lin continued to strain against his bonds, but his physical strength was fading rapidly. Zhao Xun's inner world was actively draining him now, the ground beneath him pulsating as it pulled at his essence.

"Please," Wei Lin said, hating the desperation in his voice but seeing no alternative. "I have someone waiting for me. She'll be concerned if I don't return."

Something flickered in Zhao Xun's black eyes, not compassion, but curiosity. "A cultivation partner? How touching." He tilted his head, considering. "Perhaps after I've finished with you, I'll seek her out. A complete set would be most satisfying."

Rage surged through Wei Lin at the threat to Lin Mei, giving him a momentary burst of strength. He managed to free one arm, lashing out with the last dregs of his lightning essence. The attack caught Zhao Xun across the face, leaving a scorched line from cheek to forehead.

The demonic cultivator recoiled, more from surprise than pain, before his expression hardened into something truly inhuman. "I was going to make this relatively quick," he snarled, shadows churning around him like agitated serpents. "Now I think I'll take my time."

Wei Lin's arm was instantly recaptured, bound even more tightly than before. In his inner world, however, the reaction continued to accelerate, the shadow energy he'd been accumulating throughout the battle was now flowing freely between his eighth and ninth stalls, creating a destabilizing resonance that threatened to spill over into his entire marketplace.

"Hungry Shadow Scripture, Final Movement: Essence Extraction," Zhao Xun whispered, placing his palm directly on Wei Lin's forehead.

Darkness flooded Wei Lin's senses as he felt the invasive touch of foreign qi entering his meridians, seeking the pathways to his spiritual core. In his inner world, the marketplace dimmed as external shadows probed for weaknesses, unaware of the unstable reaction already building within.

Wei Lin's last coherent thought was of Lin Mei waiting in their rented courtyard, preparing medicines and formations for his return. A return that would never come. He pictured her face, first concerned, then fearful as hours stretched into days with no word from him.

As Zhao Xun's extraction technique reached for his core, the unstable reaction in Wei Lin's inner world reached critical mass. The demonic seed at the center of the eighth stall pulsed violently, while the previously formless ninth stall took on a more definite shape, a dark mirror of Zhao Xun's own Devouring Cathedral.

The demonic cultivator's eyes widened with sudden, intense realization as his extraction technique encountered this unexpected surge. "Wait," Zhao Xun whispered, his voice carrying genuine alarm for the first time. "What is this? What have you—"

The surge of unstable shadow energy rebounded through their connected spiritual pathways like lightning through a copper rod. Zhao Xun's extraction technique collapsed as his own energy turned against him, the carefully constructed spiritual connections between them suddenly overloaded with corrupted power.

Panic flashed across his face as he tried to withdraw his hand from Wei Lin's forehead. To his horror, he found it locked in place, his fingers refusing to obey his commands. The shadow energy that had always responded to his will now seemed to have a mind of its own, forming an unbreakable bridge between both inner worlds.

"Impossible!" Zhao Xun hissed through clenched teeth, his blood-ringed eyes widening as he felt his own essence being pulled through the connection. The energy he had intended to use to drain Wei Lin was flowing in reverse, drawn toward the unstable reaction between Wei Lin's eighth and ninth stalls.

Realization dawned on Zhao Xun's face, this merchant wasn't merely storing his attacks; he had unwittingly catalyzed something far more dangerous. The shadow energy, infused with Zhao Xun's will and cultivation insights, was creating a twisted reflection of the Devouring Cathedral within Wei Lin's inner world.

With his right hand still immobilized, Zhao Xun's left hand shot up, fingers contorting into a claw-like formation as shadow energy coalesced around them, forming razor-sharp talons of pure darkness.

"I won't be consumed by my own technique," he snarled, eyes blazing with desperate fury. "If I can't extract your essence, I'll simply take your head!"

The shadow talons descended toward Wei Lin's exposed throat in a killing strike that would sever both his head and the dangerous connection between them. Darkness whistled through the air as the attack closed the final inches toward Wei Lin's barely conscious form.