The hidden sect stretched far farther than Lizarius had initially expected.
Peak after peak rose beneath the moonlit sky, their silhouettes disappearing into the clouds.
Ancient halls stood proudly atop towering cliffs, weathered by countless years yet untouched by the passage of time.
Stone bridges arched gracefully across vast chasms, linking mountains separated by deep valleys.
Elegant pavilions overlooked tranquil lakes whose glass-like surfaces reflected the silver moon.
Cultivation courtyards lay hidden within dense forests, secluded from the outside world.
Streams of rich spiritual qi drifted naturally throughout the entire sect, flowing like invisible rivers between every peak.
Disciples moved quietly along winding mountain paths.
Some sat in silent meditation beneath ancient trees.
Some exchanged techniques beneath the moonlit sky, their movements precise and disciplined.
Others carried out patrols without speaking a single word.
Lizarius spared none of them a second glance.
His objective had never changed.
The faint blue thread remained suspended before him.
He followed it without hesitation.
The deeper he ventured—
the fewer cultivators appeared.
Gradually—
the surroundings grew quieter.
The ordinary disciples disappeared altogether.
Instead—
the peaks became increasingly isolated.
Each mountain housed only a handful of immensely powerful auras.
Several belonged to late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators.
Others...
Golden Core.
Lizarius simply continued forward.
Perfectly concealed.
No gaze discovered him.
No spiritual sense brushed against his existence.
Minutes later—
he arrived before a solitary mountain peak.
Unlike the others—
this one was completely sealed.
A transparent formation enveloped the entire summit.
Its spiritual fluctuations were calm.
Subtle.
Yet incomparably more profound than any barrier he had crossed before.
His golden eyes quietly examined it.
Layers upon layers of inscriptions intertwined with flawless precision.
Each rune fed into countless others, forming an intricate network of spiritual circulation.
Unlike the sect's outer formation—
this barrier had never been designed to repel invading armies.
Its purpose was singular.
To prevent intrusion.
The faint blue thread...
Passed directly through it.
And continued toward the residence beyond.
Lizarius remained silent.
His gaze slowly traced every formation line.
Every inscription.
Every spiritual node.
Every circulation pathway.
Every junction where the formation converged.
He observed.
Calculated.
Compared.
Several long moments passed.
Then—
he shifted slightly to the right.
"...Here."
Another convergence.
Another point carrying the lightest spiritual burden.
Without the slightest hesitation—
he floated forward.
One tiny claw gently touched the barrier.
Ripples spread soundlessly across its surface.
The formation flexed.
Its countless inscriptions continued operating without interruption.
Not a single warning rune activated.
Lizarius patiently increased the pressure.
Gradually—
his claw slipped through.
Then his forelimbs.
His body.
Finally—
his tail disappeared beyond the barrier.
The ripples faded.
The protective formation returned to complete stillness.
Nothing suggested that anyone had ever entered.
Now inside—
Lizarius hovered quietly above the secluded peak.
The residence before him was surprisingly modest.
A simple stone courtyard rested peacefully beneath the moonlight.
A lone silver-leafed tree shimmered softly as its branches swayed in the night breeze.
A narrow stream wound gently through the grounds, its clear waters producing a quiet, soothing melody.
Several medicinal gardens surrounded the dwelling.
Each herb had been meticulously cultivated.
Each flower bloomed with remarkable vitality.
Everything was perfectly maintained.
Yet completely deserted.
No servants.
No attendants.
No guards.
Only silence.
The blue thread continued onward.
Straight toward the cave dwelling.
Lizarius crossed the courtyard without producing so much as a whisper.
His golden eyes swept across the building.
Additional formations concealed its interior.
Concealment.
Privacy.
Sound isolation.
Detection suppression.
Each formation had been layered carefully over the others.
He bypassed them one after another with the same deliberate precision.
Not a single fluctuation escaped.
Not a single rune noticed his passage.
At last—
he reached the innermost chamber.
Without producing the slightest sound—
the invisible white-scaled lizard slipped inside.
His golden eyes slowly lifted.
Following the end of the blue thread.
To the person waiting within.
The cave dwelling remained utterly silent.
Rich spiritual qi drifted gently through the chamber.
Several spirit lamps burned steadily, their pale blue flames illuminating the room with a soft glow.
Cultivation manuals rested neatly upon carved wooden shelves.
Medicinal incense lingered faintly in the air.
The entire chamber radiated quiet order.
At the very center—
a black-robed middle-aged man sat cross-legged upon a cultivation platform.
Dark crimson spiritual energy flowed steadily around him.
Each completed circulation caused the surrounding spiritual qi to distort ever so slightly.
His aura remained perfectly stable.
Powerful.
Unwavering.
Lizarius observed him in silence.
The faint blue thread...
Ended here.
He recognized the man's face immediately.
*...Him.*
The very same individual he had witnessed within Ling Hua's memories.
The one who had bestowed the forbidden cultivation technique.
Lizarius remained expressionless.
*Foundation Establishment... Eighth Level.*
Without another thought—
his concealment faded.
The tiny white-scaled lizard slowly became visible.
At the same time—
he released only the faintest trace of his presence.
Not killing intent.
Not hostility.
Merely...
Existence.
The effect was immediate.
The black-robed man's eyes snapped open.
"...Who—"
His pupils contracted sharply.
He had sensed something.
Something that should not have existed.
Before another thought could form—
their eyes met.
Golden...
Against crimson.
**Nightmare Gaze.**
The man's entire expression changed instantly.
His soul trembled violently.
Yet unlike Ling Hua—
he reacted.
"...Hmph!"
His consciousness surged with explosive force.
His mental defenses rose instinctively.
At the very same instant—
he thrust a finger forward.
SHING!
A dark crimson arrow condensed almost instantly.
Compressed blood qi swirled around its surface.
The projectile screamed through the air toward Lizarius with terrifying speed.
The distance disappeared in less than a heartbeat.
The tiny lizard did not move.
A single emerald-green scale silently materialized before him.
CLANG!
The blood arrow slammed into its surface.
The chamber trembled violently.
Spiritual energy erupted in every direction.
Shockwaves rippled across the room.
Yet the emerald scale remained perfectly motionless.
Not even a single crack appeared.
The crimson arrow shattered into countless fragments.
The black-robed man's pupils shrank.
*Blocked...?*
Disbelief flashed across his face.
Before he could comprehend what had happened—
he felt something tearing at the edges of his consciousness.
"...Gh!"
One hand instinctively clutched his head.
At the same moment—
a translucent barrier of soul energy erupted around his mind.
Layer after layer of mental protection manifested in rapid succession.
Lizarius watched quietly.
"...Hm."
"It seems your mental strength is not weak."
Without those defenses...
The Nightmare Gaze would have already succeeded.
The black-robed man's breathing grew heavier.
His thoughts became sluggish.
*Move...*
*Kill...*
*This creature...*
Before he could complete even a single thought—
Lizarius acted once more.
**Mental Shock.**
BOOM!
An invisible wave crossed the distance instantly.
It ignored spiritual energy.
Ignored flesh.
Ignored every defense created for the physical world.
It struck directly against the soul itself.
The black-robed man's body froze.
"...!"
Every thought vanished.
No pain.
No sound.
Only...
Blankness.
His consciousness became utterly empty.
His eyes lost all focus.
The soul barrier flickered violently.
Within that single opening—
Lizarius' golden eyes met his once again.
**Nightmare Gaze.**
The world around the man dissolved.
The cave vanished.
The cultivation platform disappeared.
The spiritual lamps extinguished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Lizarius watched in complete silence.
This time...
There was no resistance.
The cave dwelling became perfectly still.
The black-robed cultivator remained seated upon the cultivation platform.
His eyes stayed open.
Yet no awareness remained behind them.
Only emptiness.
---
Within the man's Sea of Consciousness—
Lizarius slowly released his soul perception.
It spread outward like calm water flowing across a tranquil lake.
Not forcefully.
Not violently.
Patiently.
Steadily.
Gradually—
it synchronized with the rhythm of the man's subconscious.
One pulse.
Then another.
Then another.
His subconscious accepted the foreign rhythm without resistance.
The synchronization deepened.
The connection stabilized completely.
*Complete.*
Without wasting another moment—
Lizarius stepped forward.
His soul crossed the invisible boundary separating reality from dream.
---
Silence.
Endless white.
Nothing existed.
No sky.
No earth.
No horizon.
Only an infinite white expanse stretching endlessly in every direction.
The black-robed man suddenly appeared.
His body staggered.
"...What..."
His eyes darted frantically in every direction.
"...Where am I?"
The endless white reflected within his crimson pupils.
There was nothing.
No mountains.
No cave.
No sect.
No ground.
No heavens.
Nothing.
His breathing gradually became uneven.
"...Impossible..."
"...My cave..."
"...Where—"
A calm voice interrupted him.
"...Silence."
The man froze.
His pupils contracted.
Not far ahead—
a tiny white-scaled lizard hovered motionlessly within the endless white.
Golden eyes regarded him without the slightest emotion.
The black-robed cultivator instinctively took a step backward.
"...You..."
"...You're that creature."
His expression twisted with confusion and anger.
"...What have you done to me?"
Lizarius simply watched him.
No reply came.
The silence itself became suffocating.
The man clenched his fists.
Dark spiritual energy instinctively surged from his body.
"...Answer me!"
The instant he took another step—
his body exploded.
Blood.
Bone.
Flesh.
Organs.
Everything scattered throughout the endless white.
Not from an attack.
Not from a technique.
Simply because Lizarius had willed it.
Several breaths later—
the scattered remains slowly gathered together.
Blood flowed backward.
Bones reassembled.
Flesh knitted itself together.
His body reformed completely.
The black-robed man collapsed onto one knee.
"...Hah..."
"...Hah..."
His entire body trembled uncontrollably.
He remembered everything.
The pain.
The terror.
The sensation of every bone shattering.
Every piece of flesh tearing apart.
The exact instant death claimed him.
He slowly raised his head.
Disbelief filled his face.
"...This..."
"...This place..."
Lizarius finally spoke.
"...Quite."
Silence returned once more.
The man's breathing became increasingly ragged.
His instincts screamed desperately.
Everything surrounding him...
Was under this creature's absolute control.
Reality.
Distance.
Life.
Death.
Cause.
Effect.
None of it possessed any meaning here.
The endless white remained perfectly silent.
The black-robed cultivator knelt motionless.
He no longer dared to speak.
Nor did he dare move.
The memory of his body exploding remained vividly etched into his mind.
He had experienced everything.
Every fragment.
Every heartbeat.
Every instant of unimaginable agony.
And that realization terrified him far more than death itself.
Lizarius no longer paid him any attention.
His objective had never been conversation.
He slowly drifted forward.
Golden eyes gazed directly into the man's.
Then—
his soul perception spread once more.
Like countless invisible threads.
Gentle.
Silent.
Patient.
They reached toward the cultivator's subconscious.
There was no resistance.
Not anymore.
The man's will had already been thoroughly crushed.
The connection deepened.
One memory surfaced.
Then another.
Then countless more.
The endless white slowly dissolved.
---
The world changed.
A small village appeared.
Simple wooden homes lined dusty roads.
Children laughed as they chased one another through the narrow streets.
Smoke drifted lazily from kitchen chimneys.
Villagers carried baskets, chopped firewood, and greeted one another with warm smiles.
A much younger version of the black-robed cultivator walked through the village with a bundle of firewood resting across his shoulders.
He laughed freely.
Without caution.
Without cruelty.
Without the darkness that now surrounded him.
Lizarius watched in complete silence.
The scene shifted once more.
Years passed in only a few fleeting moments.