Something horrific lurked within that darkness. Anything trapped inside it would be devoured. The beasts that roamed freely during the day had already vanished, hiding somewhere unknown.

  Thus, once night fully arrived, the Far North transformed into a bizarre and terrifying landscape.

  Every cultivator carried a lamp. To avoid losing their way in the darkness, they formed long marching lines, two cultivators walking shoulder to shoulder.

  Each lamp illuminated only a three-foot radius.

  Step beyond that range—

  —and whatever lurked in the darkness would swallow you whole.

  That was what the intelligence her master had given her stated. Even Drake himself had never uncovered the exact nature of the creature, so Lauren doubted anyone else truly understood it either.

  The two of them soon reached the second layer.

  Compared to the outer perimeter, there were far fewer cultivators here. Most were Foundation Establishment cultivators, along with a handful of bold Qi Training disciples accompanied by elders or those hovering at breakthrough thresholds.

  Some cultivators chose not to continue traveling at night. They stopped to select defensible ground and set up camp.

  Core Formation cultivators and above pressed forward regardless.

  There were no monster attacks. No infighting between cultivators.

  The night felt eerily calm.

  Too calm.

  Then—

  “Ahhhh—!”

  A shrill scream shattered the suffocating silence.

  Lauren instantly turned toward the sound. Though she couldn’t see anything, her instincts screamed that something massive lurked within the darkness.

  The only sounds that followed were wet chewing noises… and the slow drip of blood hitting snow.

  “Everyone stay alert!” someone shouted. “Don’t let your lamps go out!”

  The warning had barely been spoken when another voice rang out—this one filled with hysteria and rage.

  “It was you! You put out my senior brother’s light! You killed him!”

  Weapons clashed violently.

  One man’s lamp had been extinguished in the chaos. In the blink of an eye, something dragged him screaming into the darkness.

  “Help me! HELP—!”

  His body was yanked upward. In blind panic, he unleashed a barrage of palm strikes.

  The blasts scattered wildly—snuffing out several nearby lamps.

  Instantly, the darkness surged forward like a living tide.

  Dozens of terrified screams echoed across the snowfield.

  The formation shattered. Cultivators scrambled desperately to protect their lamps while fleeing from the spreading chaos.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The second layer already housed fewer people than the first. Now the disorder completely shattered what little structure remained.

  Dante, who had been only a short distance from Lauren moments earlier, had vanished.

  Visibility was so poor she could barely see beyond her own outstretched hands.

  Lauren immediately transmitted her voice through spiritual sense.

  “Dante, are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” he replied quickly. “Miss Lauren… where are you?”

  She released a quiet breath of relief.

  “Don’t look for me. Protect yourself. We’ll regroup at the entrance to the third layer.”

  “…Understood.”

  According to her master’s map, although the Far North secret realm spread outward like a fan, the first three layers were roughly equal in overall size.

  The first layer was the largest, but the distance from the first to the second was relatively short.

  The distance between the second and third layers, however, was far greater.

  Lauren shifted her awareness inward and contacted Edmund.

  “Can you determine direction?” she asked. “The formation’s broken, it’s pitch black, and I have no idea which way to go.”

  Edmund didn’t answer the question directly.

  “Then do what the others do,” he said lazily. “Set up a tent and wait out the night.”

  “…Fine.”

  Lauren quickly pitched her tent and lit four lamps inside, ensuring every corner glowed with steady light.

  She layered wind-stabilizing talismans around the structure and reinforced the area with protective formations.

  The last thing she needed was some brainless idiot stumbling through a fight outside, smashing her tent and accidentally putting out her lights.

  “Do you know what that thing outside is?” Edmund asked as he lazily crawled out.

  “Hm?” Lauren replied while organizing her storage items. “You do?”

  He paused briefly before answering.

  “It’s called a Dark Soul Beast. It’s not impossible to kill… but it can only be harmed using spiritual sense attacks. Try it.”

  “I already tried using my spiritual sense to locate Dante,” Lauren said. “It didn’t work. The darkness devours any spiritual sense that extends outward.”

  “You’re using it incorrectly,” Edmund replied. “Your spiritual sense has to merge with your Nascent Soul.”

  Lauren froze.

  Merge… with her Nascent Soul?

  How the hell was she supposed to do that?

  “Lower your head,” Edmund said.

  Lauren glanced down at her cross-legged posture. If she bent forward any further, she’d practically be crawling on the floor. The image alone felt ridiculous.

  Instead, she grabbed Edmund and pressed him directly against her forehead.

  “Just send it.”

  Edmund: “…”

  The aloof, ancient-sage demeanor shattered instantly, replaced by the expression of a deeply unwilling house pet.

  A small claw rested against Lauren’s brow. A stream of spiritual sense constructs—intricate attack techniques—flowed directly into her consciousness.

  Cultivators on the continent typically used their spiritual sense for surveillance or crude attacks—something like broadcasting a specialized signal meant to disrupt an opponent’s “frequency.”

  What Edmund taught her, however, was on an entirely different level.

  His technique allowed her to condense both her spiritual sense and her Nascent Soul into a tangible combat form.

  Lauren suddenly realized that a true battle of spiritual consciousness was no less brutal than physical combat. Within the void of her Sea of Consciousness, her spiritual awareness condensed into a colossal phantom version of herself, complete with combat techniques and structured battle methods.

  “You’ve learned it?” Edmund asked.

  The technique he passed on functioned almost like a direct inheritance. Once it engraved itself into her consciousness, mastery came naturally.

  Lauren nodded.

  “Good. Then go test it.”

  “Alright. Stand guard for me. I’m worried someone might come knocking.”

  “Fine.”

  Lauren sat cross-legged and began circulating the new technique. Slowly, she merged her spiritual sense with her Nascent Soul, shaping it into her own image.

  Moments later, a towering phantom materialized outside the tent.

  It loomed like a colossal deity standing within the darkness, gazing down at the cultivators below with cold detachment.

  Within the strange black mist, Lauren discovered she could see clearly—and she was terrifyingly strong. Even if Spirit Severing cultivators were present, she felt confident she could grab them by the legs and toss them around like rag dolls.

  The shadowy figures the cultivators feared weren’t mysterious demons at all.

  They were beast souls—the corrupted spirits of the mutated monsters that roamed during the day.

  The darkness had empowered them. Under its influence, their strength had risen to the fourth or fifth tier.

  Lauren drifted closer to one of the lantern flames burning Lampwick Grass—and instantly felt a stabbing pain rip through her spiritual form. She recoiled immediately.

  Understanding dawned on her.

  The strange flame produced by Lampwick Grass was harmful to spiritual entities.

  That explained why cultivators protected by the lamps remained safe.

  Good.

  Once daylight returned, she planned to collect as much of that grass as possible and plant it in her inner space.

  Just as she prepared to search for Dante using her Nascent Soul phantom, a gigantic beast soul lunged at her.

  Lauren narrowed her eyes and threw a punch.

  The creature shattered instantly.