Items in the Stone Coffin

Hu Fei, fearless and resolute, lunged toward the corpulent ghostly figure, seemingly ready to seal their fates in a deadly exchange. This situation filled Yang Fan with a fleeting sense of delight, but he quickly frowned, pondering the consequences of Hu Fei's potential demise. 

Just as the moment hung in the balance, the ghostly figure's face contorted in rage, a bloody gash appearing on his forehead, causing crimson to pour from all seven orifices. 

"Ahhh!" 

The ghostly figure's eyes blazed with a furious red, and with a sudden, thunderous roar, he relinquished control over the six layers of magical power suppressing the toxic poison coursing through his veins. With a mighty palm strike, he shattered the immense azure slab, an object weighing over a thousand jin. 

Almost simultaneously, a grayish aura erupted from his body, swirling violently and sending both Hu Fei and the Foundation Establishment zombie crashing backward. 

Yang Fan's expression shifted dramatically, and he abandoned his control over the azure slab, retreating hastily. He understood that if he could endure just a moment longer, the ghostly figure would succumb to the poison raging within. 

"Die!" The ghostly figure's eyes were filled with a deadly intent, locking onto Yang Fan with murderous intent. He knew that his time was short and was determined to drag this youth down with him. 

With a powerful rush akin to a wild tempest, the ghost barreled toward Yang Fan. His body was now marred by black blood, life force waning as he trembled uncontrollably. 

In a state of heightened awareness, Yang Fan leapt aside, evading the ghost's strike, yet a gust of grayish wind still grazed his shoulder. 

"Pfft!" 

Yang Fan spat out blood mid-air, his complexion turning pale, yet he managed to escape with his life, rolling to the side of two stone coffins. One of them had already been cleaved open by the relentless force of the headless undead, though it remained intact. Yang Fan was confident in the material of the coffin, thus he took refuge beside it. 

At that moment, the ghostly figure, with bloodshot eyes, teetering on the brink of consciousness, had only a fragment of his previous sanity left. He directed a mighty blow at the coffin without even a glance. 

*Bang!* 

The coffin trembled but remained unscathed. 

Indeed, just as Yang Fan had anticipated, the coffin that had withstood the blows of the headless undead was impervious to the attacks of a Foundation Establishment cultivator like the ghost. After all, the former's strength was not inferior to that of a high-level practitioner, capable of shattering magical artifacts, yet he could merely dent the coffin. 

*Bang bang bang…* The ghost unleashed several more strikes, but the coffin remained completely unharmed. 

Yang Fan's expression shifted to one of astonishment, inwardly marveling at the coffin's extraordinary material, contemplating that it could be useful for crafting later. Just then, the ghostly figure snapped back to a moment of clarity and leaped over the coffin. 

"Not good!" 

Yang Fan's expression turned grave as he swiftly waved his hand. The black whip, like a serpent, silently coiled around the ghost's thigh. 

This black whip possessed remarkable intelligence; upon ensnaring the ghost, it immediately tightened, resembling a living venomous snake. 

"Mmm…" 

The ghost, ensnared by the black whip around his neck, froze, his expression dulling as paralysis spread through his body. Yang Fan noticed faint tendrils of dark energy flickering on the whip, seeping into the ghost and rendering him completely incapacitated. 

Thus, the ghost stood before Yang Fan, eyes wide and mouth agape, as the poison within him surged, life slowly draining away. During this process, Yang Fan witnessed a bizarre scene: the ghost's essence flowed along the dark tendrils, consumed bit by bit by the black whip. 

Once the ghost met his end, the whip slackened, reverting to its original length. 

Though it appeared unchanged, Yang Fan sensed that the spiritual weapon had somehow strengthened imperceptibly. 

This black whip was a gift from a mysterious hunchbacked old man when Yang Fan departed from Yihe Village. Upon refining it, he had felt its strange nature, yet its true capabilities remained unexplored. 

Yang Fan recognized it was no ordinary weapon; the whip itself exuded potent poison, capable of paralyzing foes while absorbing their essence to enhance its own power. 

After a brief rest, Yang Fan's energy replenished considerably, allowing him to struggle to his feet. He inadvertently aggravated his severe injuries, groaning quietly as he appeared extremely weak. 

If it were an ordinary injury, Yang Fan's mutated constitution would have allowed for rapid recovery. However, the grave wounds he suffered were inflicted by the overwhelming demonic energy that had surged into him, causing significant damage that would take time to mend. 

"Hu Fei is dead… the tomb is sealed… now, how should I handle the aftermath?" 

Yang Fan stood in place, his face etched with contemplation, his gaze shifting to the ghost's several storage bags scattered on the ground. Upon examining them, his heart raced with excitement. 

A Foundation Establishment cultivator possessed an immense fortune; he discovered thousands of spirit stones, several spiritual weapons, and a multitude of magical artifacts and materials. 

After a moment's pause, Yang Fan sighed softly, leaving the storage bags on the ground without taking a single item. 

His attention then turned to the two stone coffins before him. One coffin had already been breached, revealing only an iron-armored puppet gleaming faintly with metallic luster within. 

This was the puppet he had encountered earlier, one with strength nearing the Foundation Establishment stage. 

"This puppet remains unrefined…" Yang Fan's eyes lit up with excitement, realizing that he only needed to perform minor refinement to claim it as his own. 

If he could command a puppet with strength comparable to the Foundation Establishment stage, it would significantly bolster his odds of survival, potentially allowing him to tread confidently among those in the Spirit Consolidation stage. 

Without hesitation, Yang Fan placed his hand on the coffin and the puppet, channeling his consciousness into the "Immortal Phoenix Space." 

*Swish!* 

In the next moment, both the coffin and the iron-armored puppet vanished into Yang Fan's realm. 

"I did it!" 

A wave of joy washed over Yang Fan, flooding his senses. 

Next, he shifted his attention to the other coffin, which also contained a puppet, albeit one clad in silver armor, exuding an air of lifelessness. 

Yang Fan felt that this silver-armored puppet might possess even greater capabilities, but something seemed to be lacking. 

He set aside his reservations and repeated the process, bringing this coffin into the "Immortal Phoenix Space" as well. 

Having completed these tasks, Yang Fan faintly heard commotion from outside, hastily stowing away the black whip and performing a hand sign to reclaim the azure slab. 

As for the storage bags left by the ghost, Yang Fan cast a fleeting glance at them, deep in thought. 

Soon after, a heavily injured, battered Hu Fei stumbled into the hall, panting, "Did he… did he die?" 

"Yes… he succumbed to the poison," Yang Fan replied coolly, though he was discreetly sizing up Hu Fei. 

This youth was also quite extraordinary; having entered a frenzied state earlier, he had boldly endured the attacks of the Foundation Establishment zombie. 

Yang Fan had sensed the lurking forbidden power within Hu Fei even before entering the tomb; even the Foundation Establishment ghost had regarded him with caution, allowing him to rampage without interference. 

The tomb fell into silence, save for the rhythmic sound of their heartbeats and breaths. 

Hu Fei staggered closer to Yang Fan, glancing at the ghost's corpse and the storage bags on the ground. "This… this loot… belongs to you." 

Yang Fan, caught off guard by his words, wondered, *Did I mishear?* 

"You saved… saved me… my life," Hu Fei continued. 

Yang Fan was momentarily taken aback as he watched Hu Fei plop down onto the ground, revealing a surprisingly honest side to his character. 

A faint smile appeared on Yang Fan's face as he declined, "I survived by sheer luck; how could I dare to covet these treasures? They might attract unwanted attention." 

He had already resolved that it would be better for Hu Fei to live, and for the two of them to escape the tomb together, rather than for him to emerge alone. 

In this way, the Yang Clan and Yuwu Mountain Villa, among other major forces, would likely concentrate their gaze on Hu Fei, this prodigious cultivator, thereby overlooking Yang Fan, the mere Qi Refinement stage alchemist. 

Essentially, Yang Fan hoped that Hu Fei would help share the external scrutiny and pressure, preventing any suspicions or conjectures from arising among the discerning eyes of others. 

Consider the scenario where only Yang Fan emerged alive; he would inevitably become the focal point of nearby major cultivation factions. 

Everyone else would be dead, including the Foundation Establishment powerhouse—why should a Qi Refinement cultivator like him be the sole survivor? 

Thus, Yang Fan resolutely relinquished his claim to the ghost's storage bags, presenting them to Hu Fei. 

"Turns out you… you are… afraid of dying!" 

Hu Fei suddenly comprehended, lacking the depth of thought that Yang Fan had employed. 

Yang Fan smiled wryly, "Yes, this loot right

fully belongs to you. Let's not waste time; we should quickly leave." 

*Boom!* 

An explosion rocked the hall as another wave of force surged forth, as if attempting to expel the invaders. 

Hu Fei hurriedly nodded, his expression solemn, hastily gathering the scattered storage bags before making their escape. 

The tomb shook violently, as if preparing to seal itself, the escape route narrowing, but fortunately, they dashed outside just in time. 

Yang Fan and Hu Fei fled as the entire tomb gradually began to collapse. 

As they emerged, they noticed an expansive stone platform stretching outward, facing a magnificent mountain. 

"Are we back?" Hu Fei murmured, surveying their surroundings in disbelief. 

The cliffside they had just descended bore signs of destruction, while the heavens glimmered above, shining brightly. 

The surroundings, however, appeared eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life, merely the endless rustling of wind against stone. 

"It seems that we have returned to the mountain," Yang Fan muttered, glancing around for other cultivators. 

Suddenly, the ground trembled ominously. 

Both Yang Fan and Hu Fei turned their heads abruptly, their expressions paling as they watched the tomb slowly cave in. 

The dark entrance now transformed into a vast abyss, a dark void expanding before their eyes. 

In that instant, Yang Fan felt an overwhelming urge to flee from the chaos unfolding behind them. 

"Run!" 

Without hesitation, Yang Fan activated his cultivation, channeling the blood energy within him to summon the blue mist and propel himself forward. 

Though he had yet to completely recover from his injuries, he was acutely aware of the dire need to escape the dark void that threatened to engulf them both. 

*Boom!* 

As the ground split open, the tomb vanished from existence, leaving nothing but lingering echoes of devastation in its wake. 

Breathing heavily, Yang Fan glanced back at Hu Fei, who followed closely behind, their lives spared from the impending chaos. 

"Where to next?" Hu Fei asked, panting. 

"We should head back to Yuwu Mountain Villa," Yang Fan replied. 

"Isn't that the place you were seeking earlier?" 

Yang Fan nodded. "Yes, it should be relatively safe there." 

The two set off on the journey, exchanging brief conversations as they reflected on their harrowing encounter within the tomb. 

After traversing through the dense forest for some time, they finally reached Yuwu Mountain Villa, its lush surroundings evoking a sense of calm and tranquility amidst the chaos they had just fled. 

Upon entering, Yang Fan noticed a shift in atmosphere; the usually lively ambiance of the villa was now shadowed by uncertainty. 

"Where are the others?" Yang Fan inquired, sensing the tension among the remaining cultivators. 

"They're preparing for battle," a voice called out. 

Yang Fan turned to see the familiar face of a villa disciple approaching. 

"What's going on?" 

"There's been news of several formidable foes lurking in the vicinity, a conflict is brewing," the disciple replied. 

"Who?" Yang Fan pressed, his brow furrowing with concern. 

"Spirit Consolidation stage cultivators… and the Yang Clan." 

Yang Fan's heart sank. He now understood the gravity of their situation. 

"We must rally the remaining forces, prepare for an imminent confrontation!" Yang Fan declared, feeling the weight of responsibility settle upon him. 

With renewed determination, he and Hu Fei sprang into action, gathering the remaining villa disciples as the looming threat of battle awaited them all.