Five thousand miles deep.

It was still the South Sea Dragon Palace, yet the atmosphere was starkly different, entirely devoid of celebratory festivity; the stench of blood permeated the air.

Human-head lanterns hung from the eaves, and the windowpanes were crafted from dried human skin.

Flickering ghost fires floated about, and the ground was littered with various bones, some bearing gnaw marks on their surfaces, sending chills down one's spine.

Within the vast mansion, not even half a silhouette of a merfolk could be seen.

The South Sea Dragon Palace was enveloped in utter dead silence.

Only the guest hall remained brightly lit, where a hundred or so figures sat together, raising their cups and exchanging pleasantries, projecting a façade of revelry.

"Bi Hengguang, you've truly got an impressive liquor tolerance—downing a thousand cups yet remaining unfazed!"

"Not at all, Chen Yun, there's no need for you to toast me; it would seem I should be the one to toast you instead."

"Hahaha, drink up, drink up!"

Though their words rang of camaraderie, in reality, their expressions were filled with vigilance, merely feigning the roles of "Dragon Palace guests" due to the fragile circumstances.

Among the cultivators present, there were sixty or seventy at the Divine Separation Stage, while the rest were at the Void Refining Stage, hailing from various large sects, all engaged in veiled schemes and mutual deception.

Before them on the table was piled a grotesque mound of broken limbs and mangled flesh, with maggots crawling in and out, exuding an unbearably rancid stench.

Only a few demon cultivators grabbed the corpses and shoved the chunks into their mouths to chew.

The majority of cultivators focused on drinking instead, though the wine itself floated with impurities like eyeballs and teeth—it was still slightly better than eating flesh.

Upon reaching the South Sea's five thousand miles deep, the dangers of Dragon Palace had already surpassed imagination.

Various factions carried out their machinations both overtly and covertly, making the notion of slaying the deceitful object increasingly unrealistic; most cultivators resorted merely to passing the time aimlessly.

After a wait of about six months, they would be able to proceed to the deeper reaches of the South Sea Dragon Palace.

The sole Land Immortal, Zhang Qiyang, had already ventured solo in pursuit of the Great Sun Sword Tomb, leaving the cultivators in an almost inextricable predicament.

"Master Bi, it's clearly the catastrophe caused by the dormant Great Sun Sword Tomb—why do we see no sign of any sword cultivators? What about Elder Luo Yang?"

The cultivator who spoke stood two meters tall, his exposed skin covered in human faces.

His title was [Fu Wen], the sect master of Hundred Faces Sect, a mid-tier branch within the Ten Thousand Demon Dao, whose elevation to the Existential Realm remained shrouded in mystery as his spiritual power appeared exceedingly hollow.

"Heh."

Bi Hengguang offered no verbal reply, maintaining his smile; yet a flicker of icy intent glinted in his gaze.

Apart from Zhang Qiyang, the Great Sun Sword Tomb had initially mobilized five individuals, but even after suffering heavy losses, they could muster only a fraction of their remaining forces.

Among those were two Void Refining cultivators—namely Luo Yang and Bi Hengguang—alongside three Divine Separation stage cultivators.

While in the South Sea's shallower depths, however, a Divine Separation stage sword cultivator had mysteriously perished, their Dao dissipated, while Luo Yang waited for Li Mo at the five-thousand-mile mark.

Ultimately, none remained but Bi Hengguang.

Fu Wen's insinuation pointed towards the Great Sun Sword Tomb setting them all up, trapping the cultivators in the South Sea.

Though no one outright believed this claim, Bi Hengguang nevertheless faced isolation, even to the extent that some demon cultivators toyed with the idea of feasting on his flesh and blood to replenish the spiritual power they had expended in the earlier layers.

"Let it go. After all, you and I were brought to the South Sea by Immortal Zhang's arrangements."

Medicine King Valley Elder [Zhang Mu] raised his cup to Bi Hengguang, his gaze resting on the latter's arm for several breaths, filled with undisguised greed.

Bi Hengguang ignored him.

Zhang Mu had previously sent mental transmissions to him, requesting portions of his flesh and blood to refine elixirs; now stepping up for him suggested clear ulterior motives.

More cultivators remained silent, their attention focused on the unfolding tensions in the guest hall.

Without realizing it, even Void Refining stage cultivators began to sense an inability to protect themselves; yet the lure of Immortal Marrow was too potent, promising promotion to Land Immortals—how could they surrender before the final moment?

Although Immortal Marrow's utility varied by individual, those who could truly cultivate with it would find it extraordinarily compatible, boosting breakthroughs by fifty percent.

As the spirited chatter carried on, the Dragon Palace's reek grew stronger.

The cultivators understood that the arrival of the deceitful object was imminent and swiftly prepared themselves, yet outwardly maintained appearances.

Suddenly, the mansion's rear courtyard quaked as decorative coral stones toppled one after another.

The sound of proliferating flesh echoed.

"Green Soft River Dragon King has arrived! Green Soft River Dragon King has arrived!!"

The hysterical shouts reverberated, sinking the hearts of cultivators who instinctively accelerated their spiritual power circulation.

From five thousand miles to nine thousand miles, the Dragon Palace had only presented challenges linked to River Dragon Kings.

Yet upon reaching ten thousand miles, it transitioned to River Dragon Kings proper.

Cultivators had extensively researched the ancient cultivation world's Dragon Clan, understanding their strict bloodline hierarchy: River Dragon Kings typically emerged from Flood Dragons thin in dragon blood, while most River Dragon Kings were True Dragons.

Even if not True Dragons, they were likely Flood Dragons with the potential for dragon transformation in the future.

The disparity in strength was unmistakable, akin to the difference between clouds and mud.

In the rear courtyard, the soil writhed, and soon after, countless merfolk burst free from the ground.

Their expressions were vacant, draped in robes crafted from fresh flesh, with a slender blood vessel connected to the backs of their heads.

One end of the blood vessel extended into the ground beneath the courtyard, hinting at something buried beneath.

More and more merfolk emerged, their movements driven by the blood vessels as they began decorating the Dragon Palace, the long-dormant sounds of drums echoing once again.

The Divine Separation stage cultivators appeared grim-faced.

The situation in the South Sea Dragon Palace had escalated beyond imagination, leaving them suffocated—weighed down by the fact that the Green Soft River Dragon King far exceeded what Divine Separation stage cultivators could withstand.

Yet how could they retreat when Void Refining stage mentors were present?

At the same time, the Divine Separation stage cultivators harbored a faint, unrealistic hope—having braved such peril within the South Sea Dragon Palace, they counted on their sects' promise to allot them a drop of Immortal Marrow.

After all, among the hundred cultivators gathered, surely misfortune wouldn't befall themselves too readily?

The South Sea Dragon Palace grew increasingly uncanny, yet the guest hall remained unaffected, as if its occupants were stiff performers enacting roles in a bizarre drama.

Amidst this unspoken cohesion, a grotesque figure measuring three to four meters emerged from the soil.

The deceitful object was not the Green Soft River Dragon King; its appearance resembled that of a turtle turned monster, its shell formed from patched skulls, its limbs scarred with stitching marks.

Cultivators of mortal origin instantly recognized it as [Turtle Prime Minister].

Ancient turtle demons, due to their extended lifespans, accumulated significant spiritual wisdom over centuries. Numerous sects had preferred to employ turtle demons as mountain gate guardians.

The same concept was depicted in theatrical works—forcefully inserting the Turtle Prime Minister as a role within the Dragon Palace.

In truth, to the Dragon Clan, all lifeforms were merely food; even turtle demons within the Dragon Palace served as nothing but reserved sustenance.

The Turtle Prime Minister spoke in a high-pitched voice, reminiscent of the eunuchs within ancient imperial courts.

"Listen closely: No marriage without a matchmaker bears civilization, solemn geese tethered and lambs led invoke early rites; a thousand eyes fixed as she takes his hand, oh, how they delight."

"Today the Dragon King seeks a suitor—observe propriety, dine together, and drink the ceremonial union wine."

As the Turtle Prime Minister spoke, blood and flesh continuously dissolved, with the blood vessels behind its head delivering nutrients to prevent the deceitful object's body from collapsing.

"What nonsense is this? A ten-thousand-mile Dragon Palace steeped in such absurdity."

Bi Hengguang took in the Palace's grotesque spectacle, unease creeping into his thoughts.

What worried him most was Luo Yang—for according to the original plan, whether Taiyi Taoist came to the South Sea or not, Luo Yang was supposed to reach the ten-thousand-mile mark and potentially collide with the Dragon King's matchmaking ceremony.

That shouldn't happen. Judging by Luo Yang's pace of descent, he would likely only reach the eleven-thousand-mile mark, perfectly avoiding the dangerous timing.

"Whew."

Bi Hengguang exhaled slowly.

"What's Taiyi Taoist's situation, anyway?"

"Since Immortal Zhang personally designated him, his strength shouldn't be weak. But at most, he'd just be in the Initial Entry Void Refining Stage—how could that alter the scenario?"

Bi Hengguang lacked deep insight into Li Mo's existence, knowing only that he was Yu Xiao's younger brother, yet no related memories surfaced in his mind.

"An Innate Immortal Seed? Since Immortal Zhang gave his approval, he wouldn't die so easily in the South Sea, would he?"

Bi Hengguang's thoughts churned as his peripheral vision noted the Dragon Palace's decor nearing completion, resembling the wedding arrangements of mortal aristocratic households.

"Please welcome the Green Soft River Dragon King!!"

The Turtle Prime Minister yelled loudly, silencing the guest hall momentarily.

All eyes turned toward the rear courtyard.

Blood vessels whipped through the air.

Merfolk gathered in mid-air, only for their hands and feet to be dismantled by the blood vessels, then reassembled haphazardly.

The merfolk wailed unconsciously, causing Bi Hengguang's scalp to tingle.

In mere moments.

The merfolk had fused into a monstrous figure over ten meters tall, covered in internal organs, its pupils scattered across its flesh, its body a decaying heap.

Bi Hengguang could barely discern hints of a dragon form in the ribbed spikes atop its head.

"Guests… Quite a gathering."

The Green Soft River Dragon King's voice emerged like a forced squeeze from its throat, its own blood vessels trailing behind thick and tangled.

"The saying goes—no clouds, no rain; no matchmaker, no marriage."

"I have four Dragon Daughters who seek suitors. With so many fine gentlemen today, surely they'll find someone pleasing to their eye."

The Green Soft River Dragon King chuckled, its peculiar sing-song tone unbearably awkward.

In the rear courtyard, another wave of hundreds of merfolk emerged, shaping the Dragon King's so-called Dragon Daughters—figures with half-human and half-dragon forms, their tails swishing incessantly.

As the Dragon King approached the guest hall, Bi Hengguang's pupils narrowed unconsciously.

He could discern that the Green Soft River Dragon King was nothing more than a puppet, yet its emanating aura rivaled the Existential Realm, suggesting that the deceitful object buried in the courtyard might have reached Void Refining Stage Perfection.

If the deceitful object erupted, few would survive among those present.

The Green Soft River Dragon King entered the guest hall, its body barely squeezing through the narrow doorway, leaving walls smeared with viscera, the oppressive atmosphere palpable.

Only Offshore Realm cultivators remained composed, while the rest grew visibly uneasy.

"Hahaha, don't be shy."

The Green Soft River Dragon King swept its gaze over the cultivators, fixing its attention on one.

This individual was a Divine Separation Stage disciple from the prominent sect Yellow Dragon Mountain, whose body bore the texture of rock, indicative of the sect's Earth Attribute foundation.

"Your… scent is remarkably pleasing. My daughter will surely be satisfied."

The Divine Separation Stage cultivator opened his mouth but was at a loss for words, while Yellow Dragon Mountain Elder Golden Light Venerable gestured subtly.

Roar.

A severed head belonging to a skin-stripped blood dragon appeared outside the door, its gaping maw drooling saliva as chunks of flesh spurted with its breaths.

"Thank you, Dragon King. Zhuang Chao, hurry and make contact with the Dragon Daughter."

Zhuang Chao hesitated for several moments, but facing Golden Light Venerable's coercion, he ultimately rose trembling and left the guest hall.

"Dragon Daughter, you…"

Before he could finish speaking, the Dragon Daughter swallowed the Divine Separation Stage cultivator in a single gulp.

Amidst bone-crushing sounds, his agonized screams were abruptly silenced.

"My daughter is not satisfied. Does anyone here volunteer?"

The Divine Separation stage cultivators dared not speak, while the Void Refining stage cultivators chose to observe.

At that moment.

Five individuals arrived within the Dragon Palace.

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