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Other Cultivators wished they could banish tribulations far away, avoiding the word "tribulation" at all costs.

The strangeness of the Yellow Springs Reincarnation Technique lies in its disregard for common sense.

Common sense dictates that one should avoid encountering tribulations if possible, and just from the two words "Reincarnation", one could tell that this cultivation technique adopted the opposite approach.

But even normal cultivation would encounter the descent of heavenly numbers and the appearance of the Will of Heaven; if this cultivation technique were really that good, its name wouldn't constantly echo in their ears like this.

"Winds and waves allow the powerful to contend, but without cultivation, the winds and waves will only wash away one's lifelong cultivation. With such heavy tribulation and Karma, if he really could avoid it, Futuzi's cultivation would likely have improved once more, but..."

The expressions in the eyes of certain Yellow Springs disciples were obscure and shifting.

They naturally knew that although these disciples had escaped being at the lowest tier—mere human resources casually used to supplement one's Lifespan—they were still mere ants before those Demonic Path mighty figures.

When their Lifespan truly reached its end, the effect of refining these disciples was even better than refining those Demonic Cultivators who had just entered the Demonic Path.

Yet even so, no one staying within the Demonic Path would willingly choose to be mere consumable materials that could be discarded at any moment.

Various plans surfaced in their minds here with the four words "fate contention".

"Fortunately, this younger brother found the person to help me overcome the tribulation three months ago. Heh, Immortal cultivators are truly troublesome. Having lived another life, their karmic opportunity with the immortals is completely severed."

A Yellow Springs disciple on the left let out a cold, chilling laugh.

The other Yellow Springs disciples knew what was going on the moment they heard this.

Unlike them Demonic Cultivators, who upon Reincarnation, or even as long as their True Spirit reappeared in the world, would immediately enter the Yellow Springs Reincarnation.

One of the powers of the River of Wrongful Deaths was to fish up the souls of Demonic Cultivators from the world and recreate human bodies within the Yellow Springs.

If not for the fact that the Nether Sea harbored immense terrors that countless people kept silent about, making it a forbidden zone for cultivation which Demonic Path mighty figures avoided and dreaded to the extreme, I'm afraid even the True Spirit of Yellow Springs disciples would not enter the Nether Sea to be scoured by it.

First determining Destiny, then taking a human body—this was also a procedure.

But if one wanted to infiltrate the Immortal Sect, they wouldn't do it this way.

Guidance, there was also guidance, it was just rather different from what the Immortal Dao did.

However, there were other situations where the True Spirit's Yellow Springs aura was too weak to undergo Reincarnation in the River of Wrongful Deaths, and naturally, it could only be abandoned.

The Immortal cultivator trouble mentioned by this disciple naturally referred to the guidance of Immortal cultivators, which also emphasized karmic opportunity.

Unless they were a peerless prodigy who could trigger an exception, under other circumstances, they let nature take its course; once the karmic opportunity arrived, they would naturally be guided back.

Very few could return to the Immortal path.

Just as accidents had occurred within their Yellow Springs, it was only natural that the Immortal Dao side—with its massive number of Cultivators and vast territory—would also experience unexpected heavenly secrets.

"Congratulations, Senior Brother. You will probably be able to shake off your own Killing Tribulation very soon."

A disciple said with a hint of envy, offering insincere congratulations.

Those tribulation-surmounting Cultivators who required guidance were the type of people they liked the most.

Usually in such cases, most of them were mortals.

Mere mortals—even without using Demonic Cultivator methods, just pushing the heavenly secrets slightly would cause that person to leave not even a single bone behind.

It was effortless and there was no need to worry about being discovered by Immortal Dao Cultivators.

After all, mortals are fragile; they can die under any circumstances.

At most, it could only be described as having thin blessings in this life and a hard-to-continue karmic opportunity with the immortals.

One after another, others spoke up, "Although the number of people for my tribulation is small, they are also troublesome; they have all entered the Nine Immortals Sect. Only under such circumstances is there a sliver of opportunity to slay their True Spirit."

Chilling blood Qi permeated their words.

One by one, they seemed to be cheerfully discussing the Dao, recounting their own situations regarding overcoming tribulations.

The scene looked full of harmony, but the traps and disguises within their words came one after another.

If any disciple believed them and wanted to play the snipe and the clam fighting while the fisherman benefits, they could only be said to be one move short in chess, missing a layer of calculation, and failing to outwit the fellow apprentice brothers they wanted to kill.

Such subtext was hidden beneath their rhetoric.

Usually, they would still make some petty moves, but standing here, although no Elder was clearly seen, as soon as they saw the blood-red light within the graveyard, those little thoughts were quickly reined in.

They couldn't afford to be the prominent bird sticking its neck out at this time.

However, just as gazes inside were discussing prodigies, the Yellow Springs disciples also began to pay attention to the situation on the horizon.

A roar resounded through this place.

On the horizon, a black flood dragon soared and tumbled through the air.

Atop its head stood a black-and-red figure whose robes billowed in the wind.

Stepping on the flood dragon's head, countless blood Qi swirled around him like a sea of blood floating and sinking behind him and beneath his feet.

The black flood dragon looked like a flood dragon, yet also seemed about to truly transform into a True Dragon; its head had already developed the majestic shape of dual horns.

It did not ride the clouds and mist; there was only an endless expanse of blood Qi forming a sea of blood.

Its massive body swam within the sea of blood—it seemed to still be on the horizon, but the next moment it was already right before their eyes.

Domineering and unreasonable.

Almost as soon as the other party appeared, a sharp pain suddenly transmitted into the Sea of Consciousness of all the Yellow Springs disciples.

The already pale complexions of some Yellow Springs disciples turned even more ghastly white.

"It is the Personal disciple of Wrongful Deaths, Blood Monarch."

A disciple pinched off his own aura, and an exclamation appeared in his Divine Sense.

But the black flood dragon riding the sea of blood was not the only thing coming from the horizon.

There was also a lingering Buddhist chant appearing from the edge of the sky.

Almost the moment they saw this black flood dragon, many disciples' expressions changed drastically, realizing that the newcomer was definitely not just the Personal disciple Blood Monarch.

They immediately raised their hands to seal their five senses, preventing their Divine Sense from extending out.

Yet even so, there were still some Yellow Springs disciples who hadn't reacted in time. Upon hearing this Buddhist chant appear, their originally cold or gloomy expressions displayed a trace of an identical smile in the exact same manner.

A smile was pulled at the corners of their mouths, their eyes turned vacant, and their palms came together in a gesture of worshiping the Buddha, smiling as they said, "Welcome, My Buddha."

Beside them, a disciple who fancied his cultivation to be a cut above also suffered a great shock in his mind.

Fortunately, he knew roughly what the newcomer's cultivation was like, so it couldn't cross Realms and shatter his Demonic Art cultivation.

A monk walked slowly from the horizon.

Dressed in plain monk robes, with three ring scars on top of his head and a speck of blood between his brows, upon hearing the commotion, a wisp of eerie blood color welled up in his demonic pupils as he smiled slightly and said, "Amitabha, this poor monk greets you."

When encountering monks putting on such airs outside, many Demonic Cultivators would treat them as soft persimmons, pedantic and unbearable Cultivators.

But within the Sect of the Wrongful Dead, given the baleful weirdness on this monk, absolutely no one would treat him as an ordinary monk.

The next second.

An eerie voice sighed.

A wave of shock arose in the hearts of some Yellow Springs disciples once again.

Even though they had already sealed their five senses, this eerie sigh seemed to pass through from an extremely distant and extremely deep place.

Eerie and plaintive, it seemed to conceal boundless worldly grudges and grievances, as well as endless loneliness and desolation, all in a single sigh.

A group of veteran Yellow Springs disciples who had already avoided this area from afar saw that some Yellow Springs disciples had evaded the Buddhist chant, but failed to evade this eerie sigh.

Their eyes lacked their usual various schemes.

Their palms struck fiercely toward their own True Spirit, as if the great fear of life and death no longer existed in their hearts.

With resolute determination, they instantly seemed to lose their vital spirit. "In this life of mine, I was destined never to attain longevity through cultivation anyway. Why bother?"

That disciple gave a bitter laugh and instantly collapsed with a boom, their True Spirit and Divine Soul completely destroyed.

"Cultivation is bitter, cultivation is difficult; what is there to fear about life and death?"

Following that, another disciple ended their own life, leaving no breath or sound.

For the Yellow Springs disciples who had avoided this area, their complexions could no longer be described as completely devoid of color; rather, their wariness was tinged with a wisp of fear.

Had they known that several Yellow Springs Personal disciples would arrive in person, no matter what, they would not have taken on this trip to go out and overcome tribulations.

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