"Eh? Are we missing someone?"

Inside the grand tomb, within a pitch-black side chamber—though calling it a side chamber hardly did it justice—lay a hidden world of its own. Water from some unseen underground river flowed silently, while rows of withered willow trees stood motionless atop floating bridges.

Tan Zhuyin glanced back, a vague sense of unease creeping over him.

Luo Yexian turned around, his cross-eyed gaze serious as he counted loudly and announced, "Holy Son, sixty-four people!"

"Sixty-four my foot! We only came down with forty!"

Luo Yexian flinched, then received a smack to the back of his head. "It was thirty-two," another voice corrected.

"Eight missing? Since when?"

Tan Zhuyin’s expression darkened. He hadn’t noticed a thing.

This meant even the two Dharma Kings accompanying him had failed to detect anything amiss.

"Could the tomb’s master be the Cloud Dream Ancestral God? Can we communicate through the Ancestral God’s idol?" Luo Yexian suggested.

Tan Zhuyin considered the idea and, after a moment’s thought, retrieved the Ancestral God statue from his robes.

After a brief attempt, he muttered grimly, "Useless."

Luo Yexian and the other members of the Demon Summoning Sect tried as well, shaking their heads in frustration.

This meant one of two things: either the tomb was warded by some formation that nullified divine summoning, or the Dream God had fallen back into slumber.

The latter seemed more likely.

If it were the former, they wouldn’t have received any response earlier at all.

"Forget those missing for now. Let’s find an exit first."

Tan Zhuyin’s voice sounded oddly muffled, as if trapped, yet it carried far across the desolate lake.

The demonic cultivators pressed forward along the floating bridges.

But the bridges stretched endlessly, and though they quickened their pace, the scenery remained unchanging.

Tan Zhuyin’s patience began to wear thin.

Just as he turned to order the two Dharma Kings to intervene, Luo Yexian suddenly pointed ahead.

"What... what is that?"

The group looked—and their faces paled.

Strewn haphazardly before them were corpses. Eight of them, each bearing ghastly expressions, their eyes wide and lifeless.

"Shi Yong! How did he die here?"

"How did they die without a sound?"

"Something sinister is nearby..."

These demonic cultivators were no strangers to brutality, yet even they couldn’t help but shudder at the sight.

Worse, it meant they hadn’t made any progress at all—they’d been walking in circles.

Gurgle—

Then, without warning, the lake water churned violently. Countless shadowy figures emerged from the depths—hundreds, thousands of nightmare fiends. Yet instead of attacking, they simply stared coldly at the Demon Summoning Sect members.

Huh?

The demonic cultivators bristled with fear, but confusion soon followed.

Two figures—one stout, one lean—appeared beside Tan Zhuyin. The two Dharma Kings who had accompanied him.

"Only a higher existence could suppress the nightmare fiends’ hunger for living flesh."

......

"So this is the layout of the underground palace?"

Li Mo studied the sketched diagram of the tomb’s structure on the ground.

Tian Miao had deduced it moments earlier, and Li Mo had transcribed her calculations onto paper.

Tian Miao nodded weakly, her face pale, a trickle of blood trailing from her lips. She managed a faint smile.

"Impressive, right?"

"......"

Li Mo hadn’t expected Tian Miao to ask such a question at this moment, so he could only give her a thumbs-up, silently acknowledging her boldness.

He then handed her some rare treasures to replenish her blood—after all, they didn’t know what they might encounter in the tomb, and every bit of strength counted.

“This seems familiar…”

Ying Bing murmured thoughtfully, her delicate hand gripping the sheathed Frostblade as she traced lines on the map.

After a moment, she turned back with a serious expression.

“I know how to proceed now.”

Little Li leaned back slightly. “Ice Block, are you sure? This isn’t the Li Mo Tomb…”

“?”

Ying Bing’s grip on the sword hilt tightened imperceptibly as she recalled that map filled entirely with Li Mo’s name…

But as everyone knew, the Ice Block was a master at feigning indifference, her face a mask of cool detachment, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

“What I mean is, the layout of this underground palace resembles a chessboard.”

“One you’ve played before.”

“Huh?”

Li Mo narrowed his eyes, studying the map, but even if this chessboard recognized him, he probably wouldn’t recognize it.

Back then, he’d been too busy showing off.

Seeing the confusion in Little Li’s eyes, Ying Bing spoke softly.

“The shifts within this underground palace follow the moves of that game.”

“The moment we stepped inside, we entered the match. On the board, some positions are lethal. If you wander in blindly, the situation grows increasingly perilous until it becomes a dead end.”

“A chess match?”

Tian Miao leaned in for a look, but her face quickly paled, and she averted her gaze.

Her expression turned vacant.

“This kind of game… someone actually solved it? How…?”

“If the match hadn’t been solved, the entrance wouldn’t have appeared,” Li Mo reminded her.

“True. I wonder who possessed such skill…”

Tian Miao mused, then shot Ying Bing an admiring glance.

“As expected of you, to recognize this as a chess match.”

“Because she was the one who solved it.”

“…”

After searching the underground palace further, the trio finally found its gate, flanked by two bronze beasts. Their pedestals were inscribed with numbers ranging from ‘one’ to ‘nineteen.’

What was the first move again?

Click—

Ying Bing twisted the left beast to ‘nine’ and the right to ‘thirteen.’

Rumble—

The earth shook violently, as if the entire underground palace were trembling—like a colossal cube being twisted by some immense force.

Then, the correct chamber shifted toward them.

Li Mo pondered.

So, this labyrinthine structure was an additional safeguard.

Ensuring only the one who solved the chess match could reach the main tomb?

“A burial site with craftsmanship so divine…”

“Just how powerful was the Summoning Demons Sect in its prime…?”

Tian Miao murmured, “Back then, they were probably still called the Summoning Gods Sect.”

She couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of existence was the tomb’s owner?

Because when she tried to deduce it earlier, all she saw was haze and emptiness.

With a deafening crash, the gate swung open.

Li Mo, gripping the Star Piercer, led the way.

…

After walking for an unknowable length of time, they arrived at a place resembling an alchemy chamber—though it dwarfed Qingyuan Sect’s Dan Ding Peak by many times.

Here, too, were nightmare guardians, but these were clearly different from the ones they’d encountered before.

Their auras were deeper, clad in long robes, their hair even streaked with white, their skin textured and gleaming.

From a distance, it looked almost indistinguishable from a living person.

Its speech was as formal as a steward's:

"One person may receive one vial of elixir per month."

Having said that, it lowered its head again, offering no explanation about the elixirs.

It seemed visitors were left to choose for themselves.

Judging by this, those who came here could leave unharmed—or even benefit—so long as they weren’t overly greedy.

However, given the passage of time, many elixirs had long since lost their potency.

"Triple Convergence Divine Pill—this has been extinct for ages. To find it here, and with its spiritual essence so well-preserved..."

Tian Miao was thoroughly pleased with her selection.

"What did I get?"

With so few elixirs still effective, Li Mo had simply grabbed a random vial.

Tian Miao glanced at it. "Udumbara Pill. Helps you sleep well."

"Here."

Ying Bing poured out the contents of her porcelain vial—four pills in total—and handed three to Li Mo.

"This is...?" Li Mo didn’t recognize them.

Tian Miao’s expression turned odd. "Something good."

"What does it do?"

"Enhances virility."

"?"