In the stone chamber, Bi Ya's expression was desolate, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Over this stretch of time, she had served at Yang Kai's side, and though she appeared docile and obedient—agreeing to whatever he said, never daring to resist in the slightest—she was no fool. On the contrary, this woman was remarkably shrewd.
She had long since seen through Yang Kai's intentions—even if they truly managed to leave this place, Yang Kai would not bring her along.
That was why Bi Ya had brought the matter up first.
She wanted to sway Yang Kai with her sincerity and change his mind.
"If we can leave here, I'll obey you completely from now on. I'll do whatever you ask. I don't want to be left behind—I swear I'll be loyal to you and you alone…" Bi Ya pleaded desperately. Even someone like the Ghost Ancestor had been trapped here for two thousand years without finding a way out. If she were abandoned here, she would grow old and die in solitude!
That ending was simply too terrifying.
Yang Kai turned his head and gazed at her intently.
Bi Ya met his gaze steadily, not a trace of panic in her beautiful eyes.
After a moment, Yang Kai nodded faintly. "If that day truly comes, I'll tell you."
Bi Ya froze, then gave a bitter smile. "Thank you!"
"Mm, I need to think. You can go." Yang Kai waved his hand.
Bi Ya curtsied gracefully and withdrew, her expression growing even more bitter—because she knew his final words had been nothing more than a brush-off. He had no intention of changing his mind.
Time flew. Roughly ten days later, another person died without warning—this time it was one of Lü Guichen's subordinates, a Saint King Realm first-level powerhouse.
He had been meditating on a flat stretch of the mountainside when his body abruptly exploded into a mist of blood.
This second death drove the surviving members into even greater anxiety. They sought out Yang Kai once more, begging him to think of something. Even Yue Xi, who had always been too proud to bow her head, was forced to lower her noble gaze and request that Yang Kai go and persuade the Ghost Ancestor.
Yang Kai agreed casually.
But he knew that no amount of persuasion would work. The urgent priority was to give the Ghost Ancestor a clear glimpse of hope. Only then would the old man be pleased—and once he was pleased, he would stop killing.
Yang Kai dismissed the crowd, mounted his Star Shuttle, and flew toward the multicolored sky above.
He sat cross-legged on the shuttle. Divine Sense threads suffused with the mysteries of space converged and probed into that sky.
One by one, powerful threads of divine thought advanced in a leaping fashion, breaking through spatial constraints and transcending the limitations of distance. With a single thought from Yang Kai, a thread could span a thousand li.
Before long, Yang Kai's brow furrowed.
He had released tens of thousands of threads, but every last one had lost its bearings in that chaotic domain field. Many threads had been completely severed from his connection—even Yang Kai himself could no longer retrieve them.
An hour later, Yang Kai recalled eighty percent of his threads. The remaining twenty had vanished without a trace.
His face was deathly pale. His divine sense had sustained slight damage.
He hastily stuffed a sacred pill for replenishing divine sense into his mouth and channeled the power of the Six-Colored Warm Spirit Lotus to repair his spiritual consciousness.
Another hour later, he released his divine sense once more.
Deep within the mountain, in that lightless, frigid stone chamber, the Ghost Ancestor chuckled softly. "Boy, did you really think this old man didn't know what you were scheming? Without a little pressure, you clearly won't put in any real effort. I hope you'll behave this time—otherwise, don't blame this old man for going on another killing spree. The last two times I showed restraint, but this time I'll target someone you actually have a bond with. Let's see if your heart is truly made of stone."
In his eyes, the reflections of Shen Tu, He Zao, and He Miao flickered into view.
At the same moment, in their respective locations, all three felt their expressions change. They had no idea why their entire bodies had gone cold. A deathly aura was seeping around them, and they could not stop trembling.
High in the multicolored sky, Yang Kai sat cross-legged on his Star Shuttle to steady himself. His divine sense threads darted back and forth, drifting erratically, weaving through the chaotic domain field.
He could not perceive the passage of time, but he kept probing the void with his thought threads.
After more than twenty attempts—each one costing him a portion of his divine sense—he still had nothing substantial to show for it.
No one else could have pursued a method of escape in such a reckless manner; not even someone far more powerful. If divine sense was damaged too frequently and too severely, the harm became irreparable—a person would be left dazed and bewildered, reduced to a feeble state of mind.
But the Six-Colored Warm Spirit Lotus excelled at repairing Yang Kai's damaged divine sense, sparing him from that particular worry.
At some moment, Yang Kai once again felt his spiritual power run dry. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face.
Because this time, too, he had failed.
Just as he was about to withdraw his divine sense, he suddenly noticed a subtle shift in the domain field in one particular direction. Unable to help himself, he gathered every scrap of divine sense he had and thrust it toward that spot.
To his surprise, this time the probe broke through with stunning ease—as if piercing a thin membrane. In an instant, his divine sense escaped the embrace of the multicolored sky, breaking free from this cage-like existence.
And then he saw countless magnificent, resplendent stars.
Each of those stars radiated energy as vast and surging as the tide. Some were frigidly cold, others scorching as fire. On one star, wind dragons roiled everywhere, and colossal tornadoes swept across its entire surface. Another star resembled a tremendous ancient tree, growing vigorously amid the starfield.