The battle within the barrier raged like a trapped storm—explosions of qi flashing like lightning behind the shimmering dome.
Yuanji pressed his palm harder against the barrier, trying once more to force his divine sense through the formation's layers.
"Lin Canghua—didn't respond!"
Nothing.
He pushed deeper, ignoring the sting of the formation's backlash.
His divine sense slammed against the formation again, slipping between its layers as he searched for the familiar, weighty presence of the Lin Clan's grand patriarch.
Still nothing.
Then—his eyes widened.
Where is he?
Lin Canghua's sixth-layer presence—steady, immovable, impossible to overlook—
was gone.
Completely gone.
It was as though a towering mountain had been carved out of existence.
Yuanji's breath hitched—not from fear, but from the impossible void where a sixth-layer cultivator should have been.
He swept the entire estate again with his spiritual sense.
Still nothing.
Lin Canghua's aura… had vanished.
Utterly.
A cold ripple crept down his spine.
"What happened inside?" Yuanji whispered, jaw tightening. "How could a sixth-layer—"
Then his eyes narrowed.
Because the demonic beasts' presence remained.
He felt them clearly—two sharp, predatory auras prowling through the Lin compound.
He sensed the Lin cultivators as well—weakening, fading, scattered.
But none vanished the way Lin Canghua had.
"…Impossible," Yuanji breathed, teeth grinding. "He was there moments ago. Fighting. Holding them back."
Now there was nothing.
No ripple, no remnant—just an absence.
How could a sixth-layer expert vanish while the beasts were still alive, still moving, still brimming with demonic qi?
"They're not stronger than him… so how can he be gone while they remain?" he muttered, voice low with disbelief and anger. "What technique… what method… what forbidden trick let them bring down Lin Canghua without leaving a trace?"
Inside the formation, the noises shifted—no longer clashing, no longer chaotic.
The battle… was over.
And Lin Canghua—a cultivator at the peak of the sixth layer—had vanished.
A muscle in Yuanji's cheek twitched as a chilling realization clawed up his spine.
His decision snapped into place.
"No more waiting."
He drew his hand back.
Qi coiled up his arm, twisting into razor spirals that shrieked against the air.
The barrier recognized the incoming force—runes flaring in warning, its light tightening like a clenched jaw.
Yuanji spoke low, his voice steady with the weight of authority.
"Sky-Splitting Palm."
A single breath.
A single focus.
A single strike.
Yuanji thrust his palm forward.
BOOOOOOM—!!
A shockwave roared outward.
The barrier convulsed, warping inward like a drum stretched to its breaking point. Runes overloaded, flashing red-gold before exploding under the impact.
A vertical seam split down the dome—
Then—
CRAAAAAACK—!!
The formation shattered, fragments dissolving into pale motes that drifted into the night like dying stars.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then the sounds inside surged outward—
Screams. Roars. Bursts of spiritual energy.
Yuanji stepped through the falling motes and into the estate, eyes narrowing as the battlefield revealed itself.
The Lin Clan courtyard was a warzone.
Halved pillars. Craters gouged through stone. Smoldering wards flickering like dying embers.
Yuanji hovered above the ruin, the wind churned by his lingering qi whipping around him like a storm.
His gaze swept the devastation below, heart hammering—not from exertion, but dread.
And then he saw it.
Lin Canghua.
The sixth-layer cultivator lay sprawled across the cracked stone, limbs twisted limply, eyes vacant, utterly lifeless.
Beside him crouched a creature—its scales glistening white like frozen moonlight.
Demonic qi pulsed around the beast in slow, diminishing waves, as if it had drained the life—or perhaps the essence—of its opponent and was now digesting the aftermath.
The white-scaled creature shifted, tail flicking. Yuanji's divine sense surged—searching, probing—but found nothing within the being. No trace, no echo, not even the faintest imprint of Lin Canghua's qi.
It was as if the sixth-layer cultivator had been erased.
Yuanji's chest tightened. When he spoke, the word was barely a whisper.
"…Lin Canghua…"
But the name vanished into the void.
The courtyard groaned beneath the weight of devastation: shattered pillars, cracked stone, sputtering wards, smoke curling into the night. The clash of qi and steel had ended—but the horror it left behind had not.
Yuanji's fingers curled into fists, qi spiraling around him, sharp and lethal.
His voice was low, cold, and unyielding.
"Whatever you are… you will not leave this place alive."
The creature lifted its head, revealing eyes like molten gold, reflecting Yuanji's form in perfect, unblinking clarity. Its gaze held no simple hostility—only ancient, predatory intelligence.
Yuanji's aura surged in response, coiling around him like a viper poised to strike.
Where Was I? Right—
The soul-severing force struck—sharp, silent, cutting straight toward the lizard's mind.
Inside its head, the system spoke at once:
"Warning: Host soul under direct assault."
"Identified threat: spiritual intrusion."
"Deploying defensive protocol: Soul Guard."
A pressure tightened around the lizard's core as energy surged inward.
"Redirecting host energy to reinforce soul barrier."
"Stabilizing consciousness… shielding against mind-type damage."
The attack pressed harder—sharp enough to split thoughts apart.
The system responded again:
"Defense active. Host soul integrity protected."
"All incoming soul or mind attacks will be blocked until the host energy reserves are depleted."
A faint pulse ran through the lizard's mind.
The severing force dimmed—met by an invisible wall of its own redirected energy.