The Might of a High-Level Cultivator

In the quiet of his tent, Yang Fan suddenly withdrew his senses, exhaling slowly as relief washed over him. "I almost got caught…" he muttered, a lingering sense of dread shadowing his thoughts. 

Simultaneously, a deep confusion brewed within him. "San You Old Devil? From what they said, it seems I have an unnervingly close connection to the leader of the demonic path. But where exactly did things go wrong? Could it be because of the Nine Nether Demon Art?" 

"Either way, this place is too dangerous to stay. If my true identity is uncovered, who knows what consequences it will bring." 

Yang Fan made up his mind—by dawn, he would leave the heart of this demonic stronghold. 

As the night deepened, the shadows that cloaked the surroundings of the Nine Nether Secret Realm began to twist and warp. Inside his tent, Yang Fan sensed something amiss. The Nine Nether demonic energy within him surged once more, just as it had before, but now with an even greater ferocity, stirring with a manic excitement. The mysterious connection he felt intensified tenfold in an instant. 

"Something's wrong!" 

Startled, Yang Fan instantly poured half of his consciousness into the "Xianhong Space."

At the same moment, a surge of overwhelming demonic energy expanded outwards from an unknown forest, engulfing everything within a hundred-mile radius. Rivers, mountains, even living creatures were devoured without mercy by the creeping black shadow that oozed from the realm. 

"Aah!" 

Suddenly, piercing screams echoed from afar, chilling and filled with despair. 

"Something's terribly wrong—the demonic energy is out of control! Everyone, retreat immediately!" 

A thunderous shout rang out from the scattered camp of demonic cultivators, the voice rippling with an immense pressure that spanned miles, shaking the very air with its intensity. 

Hovering high in the sky was a mysterious elder clad in a violet robe adorned with dragon patterns. Between his brows, a shimmering blood-red mark pulsed ominously. The aura radiating from him was suffocating, his mere presence sending waves of terror through the hearts of the lesser cultivators. 

"A Golden Core cultivator!" 

"A high-level master!" 

The nearby cultivators turned pale with shock, awe glistening in their eyes. None had expected to witness a high-level cultivator in this desolate place. 

In the world of cultivation, a high-level master stood above the three initial stages of cultivation, having reached the second grand phase—the formidable third stage of the magical arts. 

Compared to them, those in the early stages were mere novices, barely having scratched the surface of true power. 

"Senior brother, why has the demonic energy suddenly gone out of control?" 

Before long, Blood Demon's Seventh Disciple tore through the roof of his dwelling and ascended to the sky. He was joined by several Foundation Establishment cultivators, each casting reverent and fearful glances at the elder in violet. 

"This demonic anomaly has only happened twice before," the elder muttered, his voice laced with urgency. "But this time, it's much more intense. Even I am unsure of the cause. Everyone, retreat immediately—especially those below the Foundation Establishment stage." 

His order, sharp and commanding, sparked immediate chaos. The various factions encamped near the Nine Nether Secret Realm swiftly packed up and fled into the distance. 

Within the Xianhong Space, Yang Fan stood amidst a stretch of green land that had expanded to cover thirty feet in radius. The cool, life-giving energy flowed through his body like a refreshing stream, allowing him to retain a sliver of clarity amidst the madness threatening to overtake him. 

In the real world, however, Yang Fan's face twisted in grim determination as he broke through his tent and shot into the sky, his sword slicing through the air. 

He knew without a doubt that the Nine Nether Secret Realm was the cause of the sudden surge in his demonic energy. 

Whether it was the realm influencing him, or he influencing the realm, was still unclear. 

The demonic energy surged like a wild storm, and the shadowy black hole that marked the entrance to the Nine Nether Secret Realm began to expand, consuming everything in its path like a yawning maw in the fabric of space. 

"I'll hold it off. You all go on ahead," the violet-robed elder said calmly, his gaze fixed on the tidal wave of demonic energy barreling toward them. 

"Be careful, elder brother!" 

The Seventh Disciple of the Blood Demon and the other Foundation Establishment cultivators hurried to lead the scattered demonic cultivators away, retreating from the epicenter of the anomaly. 

With a sharp roar, the elder raised his hand and unleashed a massive wave of blood-red light, forming a colossal barrier that stood against the oncoming tide of demonic energy. 

Boom! 

The two forces collided, sending ripples through the air as the barrier trembled under the relentless pressure. 

Wave after wave of demonic energy surged forward, each stronger than the last. 

Boom! Boom! Boom! 

Despite the force of the onslaught, the elder stood firm, his figure like an unshakable mountain. His face was cold as ice, his stance unwavering even as the demonic energy battered against the barrier. 

At this moment, he seemed to command the very heavens and earth, the center of attention for all who watched. 

The strength to resist such overwhelming power with nothing but his own might—this was the terrifying capability of a high-level cultivator. 

If any lower-level cultivator had faced this demonic tide, they would have been obliterated in mere moments. 

Yang Fan had already flown several miles away, but his peripheral vision lingered on the sight of the elder standing alone against the raging demonic tide. 

"A high-level cultivator… such unimaginable power," Yang Fan thought, his heart pounding as he struggled to suppress the turbulence within him. Yet, alongside the fear, a fiery ambition blazed to life in his chest. 

Someday, he too would reach such heights, mastering power so immense that the fates of countless lives would rest at his fingertips. On that day, what were the Yang family of the fortress, the Yang clan of the capital, or even Foundation Establishment cultivators? Mere ants, nothing more. 

As he flew further and further, the figure of the elder gradually shrank into a distant black dot before disappearing from sight entirely. 

"Hm?" 

Suddenly, Yang Fan noticed that the restlessness and excitement of the Nine Nether demonic energy within him had diminished significantly. 

"The Nine Nether Secret Realm… the Nine Nether Demon Art…" he murmured, a frown creasing his brow as conflicting thoughts tugged at his mind. "It seems that until the Secret Realm stabilizes, I cannot risk venturing too close." 

It wasn't until half an hour later that the expansion of the shadowy black hole finally ceased, and the terrifying waves of demonic energy subsided. 

Yang Fan squinted into the distance, noting that the Nine Nether Secret Realm had expanded by several miles. 

"It seems to have stabilized somewhat…" 

An odd certainty welled up within him, a deep conviction that the Secret Realm was now much more stable than before. 

A couple of hours later, the various cultivators who had fled from the unnamed forest began to return to their camps, setting up tents and resuming their activities as if the earlier chaos had never occurred. 

After some thought, Yang Fan made his way back to the camp of the demonic cultivators. 

As soon as he arrived, Ling Yue Shan hurried over, his expression anxious. "Stone Daoist, you're finally back! I was looking all over for you." 

"I'm fine. The demonic anomaly was terrifying, so I hid far away until it passed," Yang Fan replied. 

"By the way, I need to speak with the Blood Demon master. There is something important to discuss," Yang Fan added, his tone urgent. 

"I'll take you to him immediately," Ling Yue Shan said with utmost respect, willing to comply with any request. 

Before long, Ling Yue Shan led Yang Fan to the wooden house where the Seventh Disciple of the Blood Demon had set up his new headquarters. 

"Brother Stone, what brings you to me?" the Seventh Disciple asked curiously. 

"The Nine Nether Secret Realm is still unstable, and I have some urgent matters to attend to. I may not be able to stay here for much longer," Yang Fan replied evasively. 

"You're leaving so soon?" The Seventh Disciple was taken aback. He couldn't quite fathom Yang Fan's intentions and wondered, "Could Stone Qianhan's sudden departure be related to the recent demonic energy anomaly?" 

Though perplexed, he quickly agreed, offering a smile. "Stone Daoist, take care on your journey." 

"Farewell," Yang Fan said hastily before taking his leave. He mounted his sword and flew away, a shroud of ominous demonic energy swirling around him. His passage through the sky drew curious and fearful glances from the surrounding cultivators. 

This time, Yang Fan fully unleashed the power of the Nine Nether Demon Art, his speed so astonishing that it outpaced most cultivators of his rank by several margins. 

His only thought was to escape this place of turmoil as quickly as possible. 

After flying for what felt like an eternity, he finally felt the strange connection fade, allowing him to slow down. 

Up ahead, a wide, turbulent river came into view, its foaming white waters gleaming under the night sky like a shimmering belt of silver. 

"The Clear River?" 

Yang Fan squinted into the distance and

 made out the faint outline of a small village nestled along the riverbank, its lights flickering like tiny stars in the vast darkness. 

"I should rest there for the night before deciding my next move…"