Drip… drip… drip…
In the darkness, the sound of water dripping echoed clearly. Chong Zhao slowly opened his eyes, feeling dizzy. He found himself inside a damp cave with towering stalactites and a massive, pitch-black tree rooted at its center. The ground was covered in dark, sinister vines, tangled and ominous.
Chong Zhao was bound to the trunk of one of the trees, and not far from him, Er Yun hung weakly from another tree, vines tightly wrapped around her body, her eyes closed.
“Er Yun!” Chong Zhao struggled, trying to summon his celestial sword to cut through the vines, but his dantian felt empty. He couldn’t channel a single spark of celestial energy.
How could this be? Where was his power?
Alarmed, he noticed a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw a thorny vine piercing through him, siphoning the spiritual power of his golden core up toward the dark tree’s towering branches. As his celestial energy was drained away, the evil energy surrounding the tree grew denser.
Chong Zhao's gaze darkened, and a faint, weakened voice called out.
“Junior Brother…” Not far away, Er Yun slowly came to, her eyes widening as she saw Chong Zhao’s predicament. Her expression turned frantic, and she struggled to break free. A vine whipped across her wrist, leaving a blood-red mark, and she cried out in pain, her face growing paler. Despite this, she continued to summon her celestial power to free herself.
Sensing her resistance, several vines stiffened, transforming into sharp thorns pointed at her.
“Don’t move, Senior Sister!” Chong Zhao’s stern command stopped her.
Er Yun looked at the twisted, evil tree before her, then turned her gaze to Chong Zhao. “It’s draining your life force… but what is it?” she whispered.
“It’s the Bodhi Tree,” Chong Zhao replied grimly. “If I’m correct, this is the same entity that injured our master and destroyed the island’s protective array.”
“The Bodhi Tree?!” Er Yun was incredulous. “But isn’t the Bodhi Tree a divine relic from the heavenly realms? This… this is an evil tree!”
“Our master told us that years ago, a heavenly fire descended on this island, burning uncontrollably for years. All the creatures on Fire and Ice Island were consumed in the blaze. It seems that the original heavenly fire was this Bodhi Tree. Perhaps it first fell as a divine, powerful entity, but over time, it drained the island of life, becoming tainted with blood and developing consciousness. It has since turned evil.” Chong Zhao gazed up at the sinister aura surrounding the Bodhi Tree and sighed. “Our master exhausted his own cultivation to seal it, but it wasn’t enough. It’s even stronger now.”
“My father…” Er Yun’s eyes grew red as she stared at the tree, her clenched hands nearly drawing blood. “It was this thing that killed him!”
Suddenly, her expression shifted. “The jade talisman!”
With difficulty, she reached into her sleeve, only to find that the talisman—charged with the combined spiritual power of Miao Miao Sect’s predecessors—was gone.
“It’s missing!” Er Yun’s face turned pale, and a wave of despair washed over her. Chong Zhao’s expression hardened.
The evil Bodhi Tree had blocked all connections between the East Sea and the outside world. Not even their master was able to contain it. That talisman had been their last hope, and without it, the East Sea and Miao Miao Island had no future.
The cave fell silent, and after a long pause, Chong Zhao spoke softly, looking at the vine stabbing into his chest with resolve. “The self-destruction of a Golden Core could shake the surrounding spiritual energy. Perhaps I could…”
“Don’t!” Er Yun’s face twisted in fear as she realized his intent, but before she could continue, a cold voice suddenly echoed through the cave.
“Well, well… Miao Miao Sect has raised some spine after all.” A gust of wind blew, and a shadowy figure appeared not far away. The figure was shrouded in dark energy, hidden beneath a hood, his face obscured. In his hand, he casually held the jade talisman, which he tossed into the air. “I’ve already embedded this trinket into my life tree. It’s nothing more than a worthless tool to me.”
The figure walked slowly toward Chong Zhao, reaching out to yank the thorny vine from his chest, licking the potent celestial energy that leaked from it before roughly shoving it back in, indifferent to the fresh blood spurting from Chong Zhao’s wound.
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