Chapter 127: Avici Hell

To the cultivators patrolling Shigu Plain, the sun in the sky seemed to vanish in an instant.

From the center of the distant village, a plume of black mist erupted, soaring toward the heavens. Countless phantom ghouls screeched as they swirled and spread outward. Any mortal touched by the black mist was instantly reduced to white bone, only for gruesome, blood-soaked demons to crawl forth from those very remains, crazily pouncing upon the other living souls. In the blink of an eye, Shigu Plain had been transformed into an Avici Hell.

Liu Ciming glared at Jin Tianya, who stood atop a mountain of bones. The resentment and fury in his heart reached a breaking point. Through his divine sense, he could perceive that his opponent was merely borrowing the power of a piece of ink-wash art.

He felt a slight sense of relief. Jin Tianya had not yet fully merged with the painting; if he could move quickly, bypass the scroll, and strike him down directly, the outcome would remain the same. His spiritual energy surged, no longer hiding his Foundation Establishment cultivation. Within his palm, pale yellow thunder gradually gathered.

"Three-Corpse Nether Thunder!"

Then, the unthinkable happened. The moment he channeled his spiritual energy, his cultivation level began to plummet rapidly.

What was happening? Liu Ciming was standing in the very heart of the hellish domain. He felt as if his cultivation realm were being slowly sealed away by a strange, ethereal mist. In just a few breaths, he had fallen from the late stage of Foundation Establishment to the mid-stage, and was even dropping toward the early stage. His realm remained, yet it was like a painting—visible, but impossible to utilize. The spiritual energy in his palm dissipated, unable to even maintain the basic form of a spell.

Never had Liu Ciming encountered such a feat. Shaken to his core, he wasted no time and fled toward the outskirts of Shigu Plain, stopping only when he had escaped the hellish domain.

"What a bizarre scroll..." Liu Ciming’s heart raced with lingering fear and wariness as he stared fixedly at the center of the plain. "Is this the power of a Deity Transformation-level ink treasure? A mere painting... is capable of forcing those within it to lose their cultivation realm?"

At the center of the Avici Hell, Jin Tianya watched Liu Ciming flee in panic and burst into laughter—a sound filled with both satisfaction and misery. He had now merged with the *Painting of the Many Faces of Hell*, becoming half of the artifact’s spirit. He was anchored to this mountain of bones, unable to move, and could only barely manipulate a fraction of the hellish domain. In the future, he would likely be refined by some Golden Core or late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, with no hope for freedom or a life of his own.

However, he now understood its nature. At first, it was indeed just a painting. What the Golden Core cultivators in the Demon Ruins coveted was the Insight into the Great Dao of the Avici Hell held by a Deity Transformation expert.

Yet, having refined himself into the painting, the events that followed were beyond his control. The hellish domain created by this work would continuously consume mortals and even Qi Refining cultivators. If it could devour enough souls, perhaps his own ghost-general form within the painting might become more solid, reaching the level of a Foundation Establishment cultivator. As for those at the Golden Core or Foundation Establishment stages, they would be affected by the manifestation of hell, their cultivation rapidly falling to the level of Qi Refining.

To a Deity Transformation expert, the meager, fragmented spiritual energy of the Qi Refining stage might be no different from that of a mortal. However, for a Qi Refining cultivator, staying within the domain was no easier than for those of higher ranks. The true horror of this Avici Hell was not the swarming demons, but the reflections of the sentient beings of hell cast within the ink. It was a trial of the will. Within those reflections, the sins a cultivator had committed would manifest. If one lingered for too long, the domain would drag the cultivator inside to experience a true, unending hell.

The *Records of Immortal Dynasty Ink Paintings* states that an old monk of Jingyun Temple once taught his disciples: "When the Daoist Wu Sheng painted this temple's *Many Faces of Hell*, the treacherous and wicked of Chang'an would often repent in fear upon seeing it."

Only one type of person could walk through this Avici Hell as if on flat ground: those who possessed both a flawless Daoist heart and a clear, unwavering will. Yet, in the present day, let alone in the small Chu Kingdom, such individuals were rarely seen even in the great sects of the Central Region or the Tang Imperial Immortal Dynasty.

The Avici Hell continued to spread.

The commotion at Shigu Plain was simply too vast. Most of the elders from the six major sects had already arrived, hovering outside the hellish domain. Cong Yuzhen followed behind Elder Fu, her brow furrowed. "Master, those mortals..."

Fu Xiao sighed softly. His disciple was virtuous in every way, perhaps too compassionate. "This ghost domain is truly bizarre!"

Many Foundation Establishment cultivators who stepped inside found their cultivation suppressed by the rules of the painting, plummeting wildly. "To be able to influence the laws of heaven and earth within a small space... this must at the very least be a treasure of a Deity Transformation expert!"

The ominous influence made many Foundation Establishment cultivators deeply wary. Furthermore, everyone noticed that the Avici Hell seemed to be slowly expanding. In truth, Jin Tianya had become fully accustomed to the treasure in a very short time. Foundation Establishment cultivators could no longer enter. Perhaps because all the mortals in Shigu Plain had already become ghouls within the realm, the spread of the hellish reflections was extremely slow, but it had not ceased. This meant that cultivators within Shigu Plain were still dying.

The sect members watching from their flying artifacts took in the tragic sight of Shigu Plain. Master Sanjue of Huadu Temple closed his eyes in profound sorrow and sat down to chant Buddhist sutras, an act followed by all the Buddhist disciples behind him.

Xu Ziqing gazed with a heavy expression at the faint, flickering phantom of the scroll in the distant sky, murmuring in disbelief. "The *Painting of the Many Faces of Hell*?" He had seen this painting once in the Inner Sect's library, within an ancient text titled *Records of Immortal Dynasty Ink Paintings*, which was part of the private collection of his master, Sect Leader Li Jun of the Dongyuan Sect. He never expected to see the authentic work here.

"No... this isn't the original." Logically, the original *Painting of the Many Faces of Hell* should be housed in a temple within the Central Region’s Immortal Dynasty. This must be a replica. He suddenly regained his focus and hurriedly asked Dai Rui of the Sheyang Sect nearby, "Are there any disciples of my Dongyuan Sect among those patrolling Shigu Plain today?"

"Elder Xu, your sect's Song Yan and Li Qingfeng are currently inside. In addition, there are Shen Huai and Ji Chuanqiao of the Xuanyuan Sect, and disciples from the Hanging Sword Sect..." Dai Rui, as the captain of the 'Jia' squad, reported one by one to the elders of the three involved sects.

Xu Ziqing’s brow locked even tighter. He focused his gaze into the plain. Fortunately, the terrain of Shigu Plain was low and the houses were generally short, providing an unobstructed view. He soon spotted Song Yan and Li Qingfeng.

In truth, until now, Song Yan had no idea what was happening. His only thought was self-preservation. He fired sword qi from his fingertips, striking down a few lingering ghouls. But even in that brief moment of pause, withered black hands reached out from the water-like ink on the ground, grabbing his ankles and dragging him down. Demonic sounds echoed in his ears, and phantom illusions flickered before his eyes.

"What is this?!"

Fortunately, the small sword formed by his Daoist heart, situated beneath his Dao-Suppressing Sword Palace, occasionally hummed softly, dispelling the chaotic illusions before him.

"Xiao He! Can you tell? Are these ghouls real?"

Xiao He’s eyes shimmered with blue-gold spiritual light, her voice trembling slightly. "They are real!"

Having received Xiao He's confirmation, he couldn't help but doubt reality itself. He lifted his gaze slightly. Above Shigu Plain were skies filled with ghouls and the haunting, flickering scroll of hell. An absurd thought flashed through his mind: Could it be that he had suddenly died... and fallen into hell?