For years, no one had uncovered the secret buried beneath Bckwater Lake.

  While Lauren and the others dug for purple copper in the depths below, Dante and his group were locked in their own struggle above.

  The pace was brimming with treasures—rare herbs, artifacts, and spiritual materials coveted across the cultivation world. But nothing came easy, not with the Moonlit Sect standing in their way.

  The grand hall had split into several battlefields, each csh fierce and bloody.

  Before entering, Dante had warned them: treasures are secondary, survival comes first.

  But then Sebastian’s group stumbled across three Bu Tian Pills—treasures beyond value, capable of purifying spiritual roots. After that, who could still pretend survival mattered most?

  Even Dante couldn’t.

  Now, a jade box enshrined high upon the dais was at the center of it all. Suspended in the air by spiritual force, it had already drawn blood from both sides. Dante and Timothy cshed beneath it, neither willing to release their grip.

  The two men were a mess—robes torn, bodies bruised, blood dripping from their lips. Each held a side of the jade box, knuckles white, spiritual energy surging as they tried to rip it free.

  The box should have shattered under such force. But it didn’t.

  Wrapped in a defensive array, it pulsed faintly with light, refusing to yield.

  Dante narrowed his eyes at it, heart pounding. Judging from its make, this was no ordinary container. He imagined it held a heavenly-ranked gold-element technique—something worth dying for.

  Timothy’s face was grim. “Dante, let go. Do that, and I’ll spare your life.”

  Dante barked a ugh, voice hoarse but steady. “Spare me? The outcome’s not decided yet, and you’re already talking like the winner?”

  He wasn’t wrong. Timothy had Indiana at his back, but Dante had three comrades at his side. Both sides were geniuses, all at the peak of Foundation Establishment. Timothy was strong, but the numbers weren’t in his favor—and his body was already battered more than Dante’s.

  Still, Timothy couldn’t back down. He suspected what y inside wasn’t just any treasure. It was the key—the very key to the underground pace.

  “Then let’s open it together,” Timothy said through clenched teeth. “If it’s nothing, we’ve bled for nothing. Why fight to the death?”

  Dante sneered. “Fine. Let go, and I’ll open it.”

  Timothy’s lip curled. “No. You let go. I’ll open it.”

  Dante’s ugh rang out, hard and bitter. “You think I’m that stupid? We outnumber you. Victory’s already mine. Why the hell should I let you?”

  “You—” Timothy’s fury fred. “You think I Timothy is so easy to kill?”

  Before he could say more, Indiana’s scream cut through the hall. “Brother! I can’t hold them off much longer!”

  She was fending off three at once, her defenses buckling. The protective treasures her master had given her were nearly all spent. A Spirit Treasure had already been shattered. Blood sprayed from her lips as she staggered back, pale with exhaustion.

  “Indiana!” Timothy’s heart lurched. His grip tightened on the jade box—exactly when Dante also poured in more strength.

  The box vibrated violently.

  Then, with a fsh of light, the formation retaliated.

  Both men were bsted back as if struck by an unseen hammer, smmed into opposite walls with bone-crunching force. Blood filled their mouths, spttering the stone.

  “Brother Dante!”

  “Brother Timothy!”

  Their allies rushed to their sides.

  And in the chaos, the jade box tumbled to the ground, its lid thrown open.

  Silence fell.

  Inside y not a celestial technique. Not a pill, not a weapon.

  A key.

  A simple, gleaming key.

  For a moment, both sides just stared, dumbstruck.

  All that bloodshed—for this?

  But while Dante and his group froze, Timothy and Indiana’s eyes lit with recognition. Excitement burned through their pain.

  The key to the underground pace.

  Indiana lunged, reaching for it.

  But Eliseo reacted first. With a flick of her wrist, a talisman shot forth. It wrapped the key in light and smmed it into the wall behind them, pinning it in pce.

  Indiana’s hands closed on nothing but air.

  Just then, a circur pattern fred beneath Indiana’s feet.

  Blinding, multicolored light shot upward, wrapping around her body.

  “Junior Sister!” Timothy’s voice cracked as, in the blink of an eye, she vanished.

  He froze. Then rage consumed him. Blood sprayed from his lips as he coughed violently.

  He’d failed his master’s mission—and now he’d even lost his junior sister. If his master learned of this, wouldn’t he be torn apart alive?

  It was all because of those bastards from Thunder Sect.

  “Dante!” Timothy roared, veins bulging at his temples. “From this day on, you and I are irreconcible!”

  A vicious aura burst from him as he summoned a magical weapon, clearly preparing to cut his way out. He didn’t want to keep fighting. He needed time—to recover, to regroup, to get revenge.

  But before he could flee, Dante’s voice cut through the tension.

  “Wait.”

  Timothy gred at him, face twisted with fury. “What? Don’t think you can kill me just because you have numbers on your side. You think I'm that easy to take down? Maybe I can’t win today, but I can damn well survive.”

  Dante didn’t flinch. He smiled faintly, almost amused. “Brother Timothy, you misunderstand. We don’t have to fight. In fact, we can cooperate. None of us know what this key is really for…but you clearly do.”

  Timothy’s eyes narrowed. “Hmph. Don’t expect me to tell you a damn thing.”

  Without another word, Dante pulled the key from his sleeve and tossed it straight at Timothy.

  Timothy caught it on instinct, stunned into silence.

  “Isn’t that enough sincerity?” Dante asked coolly. “We’ll share the treasure. Whoever has the skill, takes their share. How about it?”

  Timothy sneered inwardly. Fine. Wait until I regroup with my fellow disciples. Then we’ll see who should really be afraid.

  Outwardly, he gave a curt nod. “Alright.”

  Damn it, he thought angrily. Why the hell couldn’t we have agreed on this earlier? Why fight to the bone, only for my junior sister to suffer for nothing?

  Together, the battered groups withdrew from the battle hall and descended toward the first floor.

  When they reached the small door at the far left, Timothy froze.

  The ground was littered with fragments of shattered stone. The defensive formation that had sealed the entrance was gone.

  Timothy stared bnkly at the wreckage, then at the key in his hand. He was speechless for a long, long moment.

  Dante’s people also fell silent, expressions darkening.

  Finally, someone broke the silence. “Don’t tell me…this key was for this door?”

  Timothy’s jaw tightened. He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  The silence that followed was heavier than any roar.

  So what had they fought so fiercely for?

  Dante’s face darkened, then he barked, “Someone’s already gone in! Move!”

  He didn’t wait for debate. He motioned his fellow disciples forward and rushed inside.

  Timothy staggered, nearly colpsing from sheer anger. His chest rose and fell violently.

  Forcing a deep breath, he swallowed his fury, steadied his steps, and followed them into the darkness.

  The underground pace was barren, stripped of vegetation, but the walls glittered with veins of rare minerals.

  Lauren and her team scattered through the cavern, picks and bdes fshing as they dug.

  “Holy shit, we’re rich! This is Cloud Stone—perfect for refining puppets.”

  “Damn, that’s a massive vein of Silver Sand. Top-grade, no doubt. Help me dig it out—I’ll use it to reinforce my Spirit Treasure. Quick, two of you, give me a hand!”

  “Hey… what’s this?” Lauren crouched down, pulling a stone from the dirt. It shimmered faintly, almost too beautiful to be real.

  The others crowded around. After a moment of testing, Nash frowned. “Doesn’t react to spiritual energy. Probably just a rock.”