The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 389 (Patreon)

Chapter 389: Silencing Witnesses, A Strange Treasure Emerges, The Dark Coffin

Only then did the Tianyin chieftain understand why Elder Tianyang had sent a message telling him to stop the unsealing of Gloomcloud Valley’s barrier at all costs.

But—

Regret came too late.

His mind raced.

He had to come up with a reason to get himself off the hook before Elder Tianyang arrived.

Just as he was thinking—

A rainbow streak tore across the sky.

Sensing that familiar aura, the Tianyin chieftain’s throat bobbed and cold sweat beaded on his brow. “How could he arrive so fast!”

One heartbeat the rainbow was still at the horizon; the next it was before him. The radiance drew in, revealing Daoist Tianyang, face tight with urgency.

The Tianyin chieftain hurriedly bowed and spoke in a rush. “Elder Tianyang! As soon as I received your order, I sent the tribe’s eight Purple Mansion elders to Gloomcloud Valley. I never expected the Fifth Elder and the other three to ignore persuasion. We were a step too late and caused this catastrophe. Please punish me as you see fit.”

Even if he ruled a great division, before absolute strength, it meant nothing.

Elder Tianyang could raise up another obedient puppet to replace him at any time. “Elder, since taking this seat I’ve been loyal to you—heaven and earth can attest. Please, for the sake of my diligence, grant me a chance to atone with merit.”

Daoist Tianyang acted as if he hadn’t heard.

He swept a quick look over Gloomcloud Valley. Seeing the barrier within already open, his expression changed.

Earlier, he had deliberately spread rumors among the tribes:

That Gloomcloud Valley was the battlefield where humans and demons fought ten thousand years ago. That the lingering overcast clouds were the unsettled souls of the fallen. That on the last night of each month, metallic clanging rose from the depths—the shadow of an ancient general patrolling the valley with a broken halberd.

Those who entered would face nine deaths out of ten.

It was all to keep others from stepping into Gloomcloud Valley and ruining his grand design.

He never imagined—

He left the Eastern Wilds for barely a dozen years, and one round trip later his own tribe had muddied the waters.

If the one in Ten Thousand Dragons Abyss learned of this,

He would not escape blame.

Gloomcloud Valley was the key to freeing a true dragon.

According to Lord True Dragon,

Gloomcloud Valley was in truth the ruins of the ancient Dragon-Suppressing Platform, forged by the High Priest of the long-vanished royal court of the Eastern Wilds with the blood sacrifice of a million lives, a burial ground to seal the baleful dragon “Xuan Chi.”

Lord True Dragon’s target was Xuan Chi’s remnant soul!

Daoist Tianyang suddenly turned to the Tianyin chieftain. “My order—besides you, who else knows of it?”

The Tianyin chieftain blinked.

What was the point of such a question out of nowhere? There was no time to overthink it; he answered honestly. “Reporting to Elder: at present only I know. The other eight elders who were aware have unfortunately perished in Gloomcloud Valley.”

He cautiously lifted his head to glance at Daoist Tianyang.

In the next instant—

He jolted in realization.

Those words…

They sounded exactly like the setup for killing a witness!

Danger!

The Tianyin chieftain spun on his heel to flee.

“Hmph.”

“You ruined my plans and still want to live? Dream on.”

Daoist Tianyang moved a thought. Thunderlight surged. A heartbeat later, the Dark Nether Thunder Chain howled forth, flashing faster than the eye, and in a blink it had caught up with the Tianyin chieftain.

The chieftain’s soul nearly flew away.

He found his whole body frozen in place. “Elder, I—I am the head of a great division. You can’t kill me! If Elder Tianshan learns of this, he will never—”

Before he could finish,

The Dark Nether Thunder Chain pierced his heart and lungs.

Daoist Tianyang changed hand seals.

The Tianyin chieftain felt his organs shatter; the next instant, with a bang, his whole body burst apart, falling as a rain of blood. He died with eyes wide open.

Daoist Tianyang snorted. “Fool.”

“You couldn’t even handle a trifling errand.”

His gaze fell into Gloomcloud Valley.

With a sweep of his sleeve, a streak of gold flashed and an ancient gourd flew from his sleeve, hovering over the valley. The gourd was entirely crimson, its surface carved with archaic runes, faintly wreathed in flowing flames.

He sent a hand seal into the gourd.

A thunderous boom. The gourd shuddered, and rolling true fire spewed forth like a dragon of flame from the Ninth Heaven, roaring down into Gloomcloud Valley. The blaze was so fierce that the valley’s miasmic overcast clouds were driven away in an instant. The entire valley became a sea of fire.

Altar, barrier, corpses…

All turned to ash in the flames,

Leaving not a trace behind.

Daoist Tianyang nodded with satisfaction.

He lifted his right hand and flicked. A handful of beans flew from his palm and scattered across the mountains of the Tianyin Tribe.

Wherever the beans hit the ground, they melted and in an instant transformed into thousands of dao soldiers—armored, blade in hand—who surged into the tribe like bandits. The dao soldiers moved with ruthless speed; in the blink of an eye they had turned the entire settlement upside down. Houses were toppled, wealth stripped bare, and even the slain clansmen of the White Tiger Tribe were torn to pieces, their blood staining the mountains red.

“That should do.”

“Return.”

Daoist Tianyang barked low and pinched another seal. The dao soldiers turned into motes of light and vanished into the air.

His figure blurred,

And he disappeared like a ghost.

…

In the peach grove,

A Shadow-Preserving Pod hidden within a Concealment Array quietly recorded everything.

Fu Changsheng had planted it when he slipped into the Five Elements Space.

Sensing that Daoist Tianyang had left,

He was about to emerge.

But—

A thought struck him,

And he stayed put.

The Hundred-Bell Flower in the White Tiger Tribe’s burial ground was something ordinary folk would never find. There was no rush.

Just now, however, Daoist Tianyang hadn’t even spared their tribe’s chieftain. If he learned there was still a witness to all this, he would chase Fu to the ends of the earth. Fu could slip into the Five Elements Space, but his clansmen could not.

“Play it safe. Wait a bit longer.”

After a while,

He sensed auras from the Skywolf Tribe and the Luo Clan approaching White Tiger Mountain.

With such commotion,

The two forces nearby had obviously sent people to investigate.

Fu Changsheng exhaled in relief. “I can use the chaos to slip into White Tiger Mountain.”

As he thought this,

Radiance rippled over White Tiger Mountain.

In the next moment,

Daoist Tianyang reappeared where he had vanished. His divine sense swept the area once more. The frown at his brow eased. “Seems I was overthinking.”

His figure blurred,

And he vanished again.

Hiding in the Five Elements Space, Fu Changsheng broke into a cold sweat. “The old ghoul even circled back for a killing sweep.”

Good thing he hadn’t shown himself.

To be safe,

He remained motionless in the Five Elements Space.

…

About half a cup of tea later,

Several rainbow streaks raced in—cultivators in Luo Clan garb led by Luo Haitian, a peak Purple Mansion expert. Three mid-stage Purple Mansion clansmen of the “Hai” line followed. When they saw Gloomcloud Valley still burning, faces changed.

“Big Brother, that blaze doesn’t look natural. It seems like deliberate arson!”

“That weird red energy earlier seemed to erupt from Gloomcloud Valley itself—wait, the White Tiger Mountain’s Mountain-Guarding Array is broken?”

“Go. We’ll take a look.”

Luo Haitian led the Luo cultivators swiftly toward White Tiger Mountain. The closer they drew, the thicker the stench of blood. At the foot, lush trees had been charred black. Shattered artifacts and torn clothing littered the ground as if a massacre had just swept through.

Luo Haitian’s brow furrowed with unease.

He quickened his pace, leading his people up the mountain. The scenes grew more horrific. On either side of the path lay corpses, limbs akimbo—men and women, old and young, even children barely grown. Their faces were twisted in agony, the earth washed dark red with blood that trickled downhill in threadlike streams.

“Did… the White Tiger Tribe get slaughtered?”

Luo Haitian’s brows knit tighter.

Before this,

He’d received no such intelligence.

His divine sense swept the entire mountain, sensing no living thing—no bird in the air, no beast on the ground. The place was a silent tomb.

“Big Brother, over there!” a Luo cultivator cried, pointing at the summit.

Luo Haitian looked up. The tribe’s altar had been completely destroyed. Amid the broken, charred ruins, several scorched corpses lay blackened. At the center, one richly dressed body was especially conspicuous—the White Tiger Tribe’s chieftain, the Tianyin chieftain. His corpse had been torn apart by some great force; limbs scattered, head rolled aside, eyes bulging in death.

“The Tianyin chieftain… is dead too?” Luo Haitian’s heart jolted, a chill shooting from his soles to the crown of his head.

He drew a deep breath to steady himself. The scene was too eerie. A Purple Mansion tribe, protected by a Mountain-Guarding Array—even the Luo Clan wouldn’t dare attack lightly—yet in one night it was wiped out, chieftain and all. Only a Golden Core powerhouse could do such a thing.

By now,

The Luo cultivators who went to check the Scripture Repository and the Treasure Pavilion had returned, frowning. “Big Brother, both pavilions have been cleaned out.”

All signs pointed to the same thing:

White Tiger Mountain had been breached and looted.

And yet—

A strange aura seeped from the spiritual mountain itself, making Luo Haitian feel this was anything but simple.

“This place is ill-omened. We’re leaving!”

The other Purple Mansion elders felt the same and had no desire to linger.

They had just turned to withdraw when a flurry of urgent wind-tearing whistles came from afar. Several rainbow streaks streaked in—Lang Xiaotian, Grand Elder of the Skywolf Tribe, with five Purple Mansion elders behind him.

Lang Xiaotian was tall and stern-faced. His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, swept the devastation. Seeing the White Tiger Tribe eradicated, his expression changed. His first instinct was that this was the Luo Clan’s work. Only the Luo Clan’s Golden Core could have smashed the White Tiger Mountain’s wards so quickly.

When the hare dies, the fox mourns.

Lang Xiaotian’s gaze fixed on Luo Haitian and his party, narrowing. “Thieves of Great Zhou, even infants and the elderly you did not spare. Do you take this place for your Great Zhou’s domain?”

Luo Haitian’s heart sank. The other side had misunderstood.

He disdained explanations, but the carnage was too strange, so he forced himself to speak calmly. “We also came because we saw the anomaly—”

“Big Brother, these Great Zhou thieves are cunning. Why waste words? Kill them first. Even if we must feed our resources to the dogs, we won’t let Great Zhou take them!”

Sensing no Golden Core aura at the scene, a Skywolf elder cut Luo Haitian off. His artifact howled out, stabbing straight for Luo Haitian’s brow.

The moment he moved,

The other five Purple Mansion elders, including Lang Xiaotian, also struck. Multicolored lights exploded, crashing down upon the Luo cultivators.

“Courting death!”

A cold light flashed across Luo Haitian’s face.

These southern barbarians truly couldn’t be reasoned with.

He shouted, “Form up!”

“Yes!”

Luo cultivators stepped in a subtle pattern, hands weaving seals. In a breath, a defensive formation rose; spiritual power surged, and a great light-curtain enveloped them.

The Skywolf side had the numbers.

Their attacks fell like a storm. Cracks quickly spidered across the light-curtain.

“Break!” Lang Xiaotian roared. His long blade chopped down, and a massive saber-light ripped the air, slamming into the barrier. With a crisp crack, the curtain shattered. Luo cultivators reeled back.

“Kill!” Lang Xiaotian gave the order. The Skywolf cultivators pounced like wolves. Blades flashed, and the mountain erupted into chaos and bloodshed.

Amid the melee,

Fu Changsheng judged the timing right. His figure flickered as he slipped out of the Five Elements Space.

Leaving the peach grove,

He became a bolt of lightning toward White Tiger Mountain, cutting through the rear forests and heading straight for the burial ground. Cloaked in a defensive robe, aura hidden, he seemed to melt into the surroundings.

The instant he stepped into the graveyard,

His heart sank.

The layout was uncanny. The tombstones formed an esoteric array, and a chill permeated the air. Sweeping his gaze, unease coiled in his chest. The geomancy here echoed the Cao Clan’s corpse-puppet refinement grounds—only subtler and more profound.

“Could the White Tiger Tribe have refined a corpse puppet as well?”

Even so,

He could only press on.

The hidden danger within the Azure Flood Dragon was like a time bomb that could go off at any moment. If Daoist Tianyang discovered anything amiss, the consequences would be dire. Fu drew a slow breath, pressed down the unease, and went deeper.

Just then,

The Blue-Faced White Fox in his sleeve stirred. With a streak of cyan light it leapt free. Sniffing, it chirped twice and darted toward the depths.

Fu’s spirits lifted and he hurried after it.

The fox was preternaturally sensitive to spiritual herbs. Its reaction meant the Hundred-Bell Flower had to be close.

Deeper in, the Yin energy grew thicker. Ancient runes covered the tombstones, glimmering faintly. Fu picked his way forward with care, avoiding any glyphs lest he trip a restriction. The little fox wove between the stones with agile speed.

“Chu-chu!”

It stopped before a tall stele, snuffling, then turned and gave a low call.

Fu strode up, eyes on the inscription.

“Grave of the Thirteenth High Priest of the White Tiger Tribe,” the stone read, with complex runes all around.

He sent his spiritual sense down—

And found he couldn’t probe what lay beneath.

His eyes brightened. “It’s very likely here.”

To be safe,

He didn’t strike rashly.

He moved a thought.

Hum—

Three Thunderstriking Swords shot from within, whirled once beneath his sword-finger, then settled at the three points of a Three Talents Array around the graveyard.

Since bringing the first layer of his sword canon to minor completion,

Arranging the Starry Heavens Thunder Sword Array had become almost effortless—far smoother than before.

When the formation took shape,

He pinched a seal and sent a sword-beam slashing onto the stele.

Hum—

Runes on the stone flared. A surge of power burst forth. Fu’s face changed; he retreated at once, throwing up a spirit shield before him.

Boom!

The blast hammered his shield with a thunderclap. He staggered back a few steps, face paling. He was secretly alarmed—the runes were that strong. Without preparation, he might have been badly hurt.

“This graveyard is definitely wrong!”

He withdrew outside the sword formation

And sent a thought—

Summoning Qiuniang.

This graveyard was clearly a complex array.

Qiuniang hadn’t left the Five Elements Space for years; stepping out, she felt a bit unsteady. “Master.”

“Qiuniang, can you break the formation in this graveyard?”

Years of study,

Plus every formation text and the notes of the Fu Clan’s formation masters that Fu had given her—Qiuniang had not disappointed him. She had already advanced to a third-tier, lower-grade Formation Master. “Yes, Master.”

Excitement lit her face—her first time breaking a formation in the field. Her gaze swept the stones. She patted her storage pouch; a beam of light flashed and an ancient Eight Trigrams array disk appeared. With a seal, threads of light rose from the disk and a Bagua sigil floated down over the graveyard.

Hum—

Array lines surfaced across the burial ground.

Qiuniang’s eyes flickered.

She began deducing rapidly in midair.

At that moment,

Fu vaguely sensed the fighting at the mountain gate dying down. “Qiuniang, faster!”

If the Luo Clan and the Skywolf Tribe noticed them here,

They’d have another hard fight on their hands.

However,

After a short while—

Hum—

A clear, resonant tone rang between heaven and earth, as if it came down from the Ninth Heaven and up from the dawn of time.

The sea of fire that had swallowed Gloomcloud Valley suddenly split as a pillar of radiance pierced the sky, straight through the clouds.

It was thick as a heavenly column, crystalline like glazed glass.

Within the beam, treasure-light blazed, auspicious vapors billowed.

Seven-colored mists churned within—at times forming dragon and phoenix, at times a qilin offering auspice, immortal cranes in flight, spirit deer at the gallop, as if every auspicious omen in the world had gathered here.

In that treasure-light, a hazy shape turned slowly—bell-like in form, jade in hue, its skin etched with countless profound runes, each seeming to contain the laws of heaven and earth and making the heart quail.

As the treasure rotated,

An immeasurable pressure flooded out, blanketing the entire valley—chaos of creation, the cycles of life and death, a transcendent Dao-rhyme beyond the world. Under that might, the raging sea of fire instantly calmed, turning to gentle spiritual mist coiling around the beam.

“This is…”

Fu froze.

Could there truly be a treasure in Gloomcloud Valley?

Even so, after what he had seen at the sacrificial altar, no matter how supreme the treasure, he would never join that scrum.

At the mountain gate,

The two forces hacking at each other

Looked at the beam, met each other’s eyes, and—wordlessly—broke off.

Then,

Their figures blurred,

And they sped toward Gloomcloud Valley.

Midair,

Luo Haitian pulled out a communication jade slip, sent a seal into it, and spoke quickly: “Sister Haitang, a treasure has emerged in Gloomcloud Valley near White Tiger Mountain!!”

At the same time,

He sent a quick voice transmission to the Luo cultivators.

They immediately slowed,

Stopping far off at the mouth of the valley.

The Skywolf side stared greedily at the treasure-light. When they realized the Luo had held back, a hum sounded overhead as an Eight Trigrams diagram dropped from the sky. Six Luo cultivators stepped through an arcane pattern; light rained from the diagram, weaving into a heavenly net that fell over the Skywolf party.

Clearly,

To keep the Skywolf Tribe from taking the prize,

Luo Haitian had set a formation in advance.

Lang Xiaotian only sneered.

“Do you think you can trap us?”

As he spoke,

Several more rainbow streaks raced in from the horizon—

Reinforcements: other Purple Mansion elders of the Skywolf Tribe.

Faces tightened on the Luo side. “Big Brother, notify the nearby Shi, Shangguan, and Fu clans for support!”

All were under the Luo’s jurisdiction.

In emergencies,

They could issue a summons.

Luo Haitian nodded.

If Sister Haitang couldn’t come at once, the three families could at least split some of the Skywolf fire.

…

At the rear mountain,

Fu Changsheng’s communication jade slip buzzed urgently—

Luo Haitian’s summons order.

“Damn.”

His thoughts spun.

By travel time,

Even if he left the Yinan Mountains the instant he received the order, he’d need at least a cup of tea to reach White Tiger Mountain.

Which meant,

He had to harvest the Hundred-Bell Flower within that window.

A summons had been issued.

If he didn’t respond, the Luo Clan’s storm of punishment would fall—a right the Imperial Court granted to upper houses.

Just then,

Qiuniang finished her reconnaissance. “Master, this cemetery holds a ‘Grand Array of Gathering Yin and Sha,’ designed to converge Yin and baleful Qi to nourish something evil.”

As expected!

The White Tiger Tribe was nurturing a ghostly corpse puppet.

“Qiuniang, can you find a way to break it?”

Qiuniang nodded.

She tapped the disk; runes flowed swiftly across it, finally pointing to the northwest of the graveyard. “Master, the array eye is that nameless stele. Break it with a fire-attribute spiritual item and the grand array will collapse on its own.”

Fu looked where she pointed. In the northwest stood a plain stele without words, faintly exuding cold air.

A fire-attribute spiritual item—

His Nine-Sun Red Lotus Flame was perfect.

He moved a thought.

Boom—

With a flick of his sword-finger, the Nine-Sun Red Lotus Flame streaked for the nameless stele.

Boom!

The flame struck and burst in dazzling light. Searing fire clashed with icy baleful Qi, shrieking as they tore at each other. The runes on the stele cracked under the burn, and the array’s power ebbed at once.

“It’s working!” Joy flashed through Fu’s eyes as he drove the Red Lotus Flame harder.

Just then—

A low roar rolled out from the graveyard, and a black shadow shot from within the stone, lunging at Fu.

“Master, beware!” Qiuniang cried. She drew on the formation and condensed a spirit shield before him.

Bang!

The shadow slammed into the shield with a boom.

Fu’s eyes narrowed. It was a corpse puppet clad head to toe in black armor, scarlet light burning in its eyes, a massive battle-axe in its hands, malice pouring off it.

“A corpse puppet, as expected.” His face hardened, and he silently thanked his own precautions.

The corpse puppet roared and chopped. Fu retreated while snapping a seal; his three Thunderstriking Swords became three bolts of lightning and stabbed at the puppet.

Boom!

Lightning met axe in a thunderclap. The puppet staggered back a few paces, then steadied and charged again.

“Master, the formation isn’t fully broken. We must end this quickly!” Qiuniang urged.

Fu nodded, a hard light in his eyes.

His seals wove faster. The three swords merged into one colossal blade of thunder, arcs dancing along its edge, the pressure suffocating.

“Sever!”

He shouted. The thunder blade cleaved down for the puppet’s head.

Boom!

The strike crashed onto its armor with a cracking boom. The puppet screamed; its armor split and, under the burn of lightning, crumbled to ash.

“The formation’s broken!” Qiuniang called in delight.

Fu looked up. The runes on the nameless stele had completely shattered, and the graveyard’s Yin and baleful Qi dissipated with them.

He flicked a finger—

A sword-light chopped into the High Priest’s stele.

Boom—

Stone split.

A reek of rot billowed out.

He swept his divine sense.

A long stairway led down into an underground chamber—but the Yin fog roiled so thick he couldn’t see within.

“Qiuniang, stay outside and be ready to back me up anytime.”

Qiuniang nodded. Though worried, she knew his strength and didn’t argue. “Master, be careful.”

Fu stepped into the tomb.

The stone stair spiraled downward. A chill wind rose, as if an unseen force gnawed at his mind. He circulated true essence; his protective glow brightened, holding the Yin at bay.

The deeper he went, the thicker the chill. Black mist condensed, blinding his sight. Wariness sharpened his focus; he gripped the Thunderstriking Sword, ready for anything.

A low roar rumbled ahead.

Several shadows leapt from the black fog, diving for him. Fu’s eyes gleamed. The Thunderstriking Sword flashed; lightning lanced out, cutting the shadows in two.

“Yin spirits.”

His heart tightened.

They weren’t strong, but there were many. If they entangled him, they’d drain his power.

He flicked seals. The blade split into arcs that twined through the chamber like dragons, reaping the Yin spirits one by one. But for every handful he cut down, more welled from the fog.

“This won’t do.”

Enemies could arrive at any time outside.

He couldn’t waste his strength here.

He pulled a talisman from his ring, densely inscribed—a prepared “Lightning-Attraction Talisman.”

“Go.”

He snapped the word.

The talisman burned to ash and became a surging wave of lightning. Wherever it swept, Yin spirits melted like snow, and the black fog thinned.

Fu seized the opening and pressed forward.

The deeper he went, the weaker the stray Yin grew—but the core of the evil aura came ever closer.

At last he reached the deepest chamber.

A vast stone room opened before him. In its center stood a sacrificial altar, and upon it lay a pitch-black coffin, carved over with sinister sigils.

At the four corners sat four ghostly bell-lily lamps, each like a drooping lily bud.

Ninety-nine Soul-Devouring Bone Bells were inlaid along the coffin lid.

Within the coffin,

A corpse lay amid a bed of Hundred-Bell Flowers. Purple-gold curse marks writhed beneath its skin; along the spine, bone spurs had grown into a “Yin Fiend spiritual root,” and at the dantian a Golden Core rose and fell, hovering up and down.

Thanks for reading—this chapter was a ride: schemes on schemes, and a very creepy coffin to top it off. If you’re enjoying the story, I’d be incredibly grateful if you could support me on Patreon; even a small pledge keeps the translations coming strong. Also, please take a moment to rate or leave a note on NovelUpdates—your feedback really helps more readers find this series.

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