“Come on out, Yin Prince!” Lu Yun roared in front of the carriage.

The black-robed man had gone translucent with fear, backing up until he fully cowered in the shadows of the litter. However, the yin soldiers that’d retreated to the vehicle couldn’t tolerate a human blaspheming their master. They snarled and roared in fury before charging Lu Yun, the remaining six bearers were also close behind them.

“You call yourself a Yin Prince just because you lead this useless pack of clay chickens and ceramic dogs?” Lu Yun whirled around and grabbed one of the burly men, twisting the latter’s head right off his neck. Fear finally made itself known in the remaining five at this repeated display of sheer dominance.

“Why must fellow daoist be so overbearing?” The Yin Prince finally spoke from the carriage. “If it wasn’t for you possessing a paramount treasure that can subdue my men, how far do you think you could proceed in this tomb?”

His voice was mild and calm with no emotion rippling through it. It seemed to be of no importance that Lu Yun had killed three of his bearers and countless numbers of his soldiers.

What… ah. The Tome of Life and Death.

Was it due to his treasure that the eight bearers and yin soldiers felt so incredibly weak? Of one thing Lu Yun was certain of—they weren't afraid of hellfire. Hellfire could incinerate them only because it was imbued with the strength of the Tome of Life and Death.

“How far could I proceed without that paramount treasure?” he sneered. “A dragon sleeps in mountains coiled, those deathly cliffs with mysteries roiled!”

Humm.

An image of the feng shui luopan materialized over his head as the Dragonsearch Invocation operated at full strength. Blinding aureate light illuminated the tomb, dispersing the yin energy that the yin soldiers had brought with them.

A blueprint of Pangu’s tomb coalesced within the radiance, labeling all locations and entities of danger. His Dragonsearch Invocation had reached great perfection, and so were the Dragonspike Litany and Dragonshift Method close to that realm as well.

Once all three methods reached great perfection, he’d be able to deploy the strongest secret art of his tomb raiding sect—the Dragonquake Scripture.

Lu Yun didn't know if the Dragonquake Scripture also originated from Fuxi, but he did know that once it was revealed to the world, it would remake heaven and earth. This ultimate secret art was far beyond the Dragonsearch Invocation, Dragonshift Method, and Dragonspike Litany.

Fuxi might be the founder of formations, feng shui, and burial dao as seen in the future, but the wisdom of humanity was inexhaustible and infinite. The race would continue to innovate and craft new creations throughout the boundless river of time, raising Fuxi’s methods to heights he’d never imagined.

As light peered into every shadowy corner of the palace, the Dragonsearch Invocation revealed all sorts of grotesque yin spirits and ghosts tucked away out of sight. Uncanny wisps and undead shrieked and howled, but didn't dare attack what offended them due to the presence of the Yin Prince.

“How far does fellow daoist think this emperor could proceed?” Lu Yun remained unmoving, golden radiance from the luopan combining with the black rays of the burning sun. They formed two fish that circled over his head.

No reply was forthcoming from the carriage.

“Fellow daoist, you keep to your carriage even though this emperor has come. Can it be that you think nothing of this emperor?” Lu Yun took a step forward with a sneer and approached the litter.

There was no curtain in the doorway, just a pitch-black, bottomless hole. He couldn’t make out what was inside it.

The Yin Prince sighed, but still didn’t respond.

“Do you believe me when this emperor says that I'll smash your chair on sticks to pieces, fellow daoist?” snickered Lu Yun.

“The Flame Emperor has undoubtedly come for the great Pangu’s treasure—Worldcarver. I cannot stop you, so fellow daoist is free to retrieve it as you would. Why do you remain here to put me in these awkward straits?” The Yin Prince offered with resignation, his change in title indicating that he acknowledged Lu Yun’s identity and status.

“Put you in awkward straits?” Lu Yun took another step forward, reaching the shadows of the carriage. A cacophony of eerie howls and shrieks instantly assaulted his mind, filling him with a multitude of negative emotions.

Startled, he backed out of the shadows.

“You see, Flame Emperor, I cannot impede you, but neither can you truly constrain me. You should cease your attentions here, there’s no meaning to any of it,” advised the Yin Prince. “Just go do whatever it is you’d like to do.”

“Then why aren't you leaving?” Lu Yun frowned.

There was such a dense concentration of negativity within the shadows of the litter that he wasn't able to linger for long, even though he possessed hellfire. Unless… he turned into a ghost.

“I’m waiting to collect your yin spirit upon your death so that the Flame Emperor’s soul will not scatter. I will save your true spirit this way,” the Yin Prince replied broodingly. “I am not the master of Pangu’s tomb or the netherworld, I’m just an overseer cleaning out the stragglers.

“Since you have come, Flame Emperor, you won’t be making it out alive no matter what. You will die sooner or later, it's just a question of how long you’ll be able to hold out.”

Chuckling, the Yin Prince, his carriage, the yin soldiers, the bearers, and even the three bodies on the ground slowly faded away. They left not a single trace behind, as if they've never been here.

Lu Yun frowned slightly. He could clearly sense that the Yin Prince hadn't departed, that he was still hidden somewhere and quietly observing Lu Yun.

Quiet draped over the palace.

He put away the sun over his head and withdrew the Dragonsearch Invocation, then proceeded toward the center of the palace.

Six altars floated silently in the air and the origin divine slept peacefully on the mother altar. Upon a closer look, Lu Yun realized with great shock that each of the five elemental altars held a body of their own.

“These are the bodies of Exalted divine spirits… and five of them…” Consternation struck Lu Yun when the bodies came into focus as he approached from the distance. The head of a human and the body of a snake, the dao character in their movements. They were very similar to the true forms of Fuxi and Wahuang.

“What the heck is going on here?” He shoved all thoughts of the Yin Prince to the back of his mind and leapt onto the closest altar—the Wood Altar.

As he did so, the liver of the world inside of him formed a tenuous connection with the altar. The emerald-green corpse of the Exalted divine spirit on the Wood Altar trembled, and he opened lifeless eyes to look at Lu Yun.

“Usurp!” A quiet thought traveled into Lu Yun’s mind and breathed the word into his thoughts.

“Huh?” He frowned and lifted his head to look at the origin divine.

Previously fast asleep, it too had opened its eyes and was glaring viciously at the human.