Chapter 90: The Obsidian Waterfall Realm

On the eighth day, Northern Moon City buzzed with anticipation. Tamed demonic beasts, their forms ranging from soaring avians with wings of fire to massive, swift-footed creatures with iron-clad hides, lined the city's departure points. Each beast bore the markings of its faction, a testament to their prestige and strength. This was no ordinary journey. In just two days, the Obsidian Waterfall Realm would open, revealing untold treasures and dangers within. The stakes were high, as each clan and sect prepared their finest to claim the realm's legendary rewards.

The Zhen, Lei, Bia, and Fan clans, alongside the Crimson Sky Pavilion, the Azure Spirit Hall, and the Ironwood Sect, had brought their best juniors and Nascent Soul realm leaders. They had to meet up with the other five major cities who held the other five Formation Keys, ancient artifacts required to unlock the gate's formidable barrier.

Jiang Feng stood beside the Lin Clan's group, who had come like many others to watch the event unfold, his demeanor calm but resolute. Mounted atop a sleek, scaled demonic wolf with jade-green eyes, he blended into the entourage without fanfare. Beside him, Lin Moyi sat astride a massive horned stagbeast, its silver fur gleaming under the sun. Lin Moyi's silence spoke volumes, a quiet show of faith in Jiang Feng's capabilities. As the sun crested the horizon, the leaders gave the signal. The demonic beasts roared and bellowed, shaking the ground and sky as the great procession surged forward.

The Obsidian Woodland stretched endlessly, a labyrinth of ancient trees and hidden threats. Shadows moved through the canopy, and the occasional cry of wild demonic beasts echoed in the distance. The factions traveled in disciplined formations. Thunderclap City's delegation rode atop thunder hawks, their cries reverberating like distant storms. Silver Sword City's forces, mounted on silver-horned blade steeds, moved with unmatched precision. The fiery lions of Mist Ridge City blazed a path through the dense underbrush, while the Verdant Sky City contingent relied on the swift and nimble movements of their green-furred stagbeasts.

The journey was not without danger. Packs of untamed demonic beasts prowled the woodland, drawn by the scent of power and wild hunger. Scouts, both mounted and airborne, kept a vigilant eye, ensuring no ambushes occurred. Occasionally, roars and flashes of light marked skirmishes with persistent threats, but the procession pressed forward unrelentingly.

After two days of arduous travel, the procession reached the Obsidian Waterfall Gate. Nestled at the heart of a sprawling valley, the gate was a marvel to behold. A series of towering obsidian pillars encircled a cascading black waterfall that seemed to defy natural laws, flowing upward rather than down. Beneath it, a massive formation circle pulsed faintly, its runes glowing in rhythmic patterns.

Above the waterfall loomed a massive gate, shrouded in an aura of unearthly power. Black mist poured endlessly from its surface, cascading downward like an ethereal counterpart to the upward-flowing waterfall. The juxtaposition of the two flows—a waterfall defying gravity and a mist that obeyed no natural law—created a surreal and mesmerizing sight.

The gate itself exuded an overwhelming presence, its surface etched with intricate, otherworldly patterns that seemed to shift and writhe when viewed too closely. Its sheer scale and the oppressive atmosphere it radiated made one feel as though the weight of the heavens bore down upon their shoulders. It was not merely a structure; it was a sentinel of mysteries, a boundary between the mortal realm and the unknown. To stand before it was to confront the vastness of existence and one's insignificance in its shadow.

The Nascent Soul leaders dismounted first, their imposing figures stepping toward the gate. Each each city carried a Formation Key, intricately crafted with ancient runes that shimmered as they neared the formation. The juniors dismounted as well, standing in neat rows. All eyes were on their rivals, each faction's younger generation scrutinizing the others.

"Silver Sword City's Cheng Yutian looks formidable" someone murmured, eyes drawn to the confident swordsman who stood at the forefront.

"Did you see Tang Zhenlei from Thunderclap City? His lightning aura is suffocating."

The air was thick with tension as these prodigies from across the region silently sized each other up. Jiang Feng stood quietly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, noting the arrogance of some and the hidden confidence of others. His eyes were calm as if the unfolding events had nothing to do with, Lin Moyi took note of this and smiled, at ease.

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The Nascent Soul leaders stepped forward in unison. Each approached one of the six obsidian pillars, inserting their Formation Key into its designated slot. A deep rumble reverberated through the ground as the formation came to life. The runes on the ground blazed with light, intertwining in complex patterns as the energy surged upward.

The black waterfall began to glow, its reverse flow accelerating until it transformed into a swirling vortex of shimmering light. The gate was open, the moment the gate was opened, thick spiritual energy pervaded the area, causing the younger generation to take a deep breath. The Nascent Soul leaders exchanged glances before stepping back. One of them, Elder Gao Yundian of Thunderclap City, spoke in a commanding voice. "Remember, only ten from each faction may enter. Beyond this point, you are on your own."

"Take heed! The realm has a time disparity—this must not be forgotten" Elder Gao Yundian bellowed, his voice echoing across the gathering of young cultivators. "The realm will remain open for exactly one month in our world. However, inside, a full year will pass. The ratio is 1 to 12—one month out here equals twelve within. When the time is up, the entrance will reopen, and it will draw out those who are still alive. The dead, however, will remain trapped inside forever."

This announcement was customary each time the Obsidian Waterfall Realm opened. The responsibility rotated among the major cities, and today it fell upon Thunderclap City. Elder Gao stood tall, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd, ensuring his words carried the weight they deserved.

"Your mission" he continued, "is to seek breakthroughs. Only those at the Essence Condensation stage may enter, but within this realm, the opportunity to emerge as Golden Core cultivators is very real. Make no mistake—this is your chance to bring honor to your families, your sects, and your city! Remember, we are not alone in possessing such a treasure. Golden Steppe, Azure Peaks, and Mirage Delta also hold legacies like the Obsidian Waterfall Realm—artifacts and places that have fallen from the upper realms."

He paused, letting the gravity of his statement settle over the eager yet apprehensive faces before him. "When the Four-Way Battle begins between the continents, it will be you—the ones who return from this trial—that we will count on. This is no idle adventure. This is preparation for a future of conflict and glory!"

Elder Gao's tone shifted, softer but no less resolute. "And while the pursuit of treasures and breakthroughs is vital, if you acquire items you cannot use, remember this: such treasures can be traded with your sects or families for the resources you need. But above all else..." His voice rose, reverberating with an air of finality. "Prioritize your safety. No treasure is worth your life."

The elder scanned the crowd one last time, his expression a mixture of pride and solemnity. The cultivators understood—this was their moment, a trial that could make or break them, shaping not only their futures but also the fate of their homeland.

All the leaders gave a slight nod to the juniors they brought, signaling for them to go a head. The juniors approached the gate with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, their determined expressions masking the undercurrent of tension running through them. The massive black waterfall, an awe-inspiring phenomenon with mist endlessly connecting it to the ground below, seemed alive with an ancient and enigmatic energy.

At the heart of the waterfall, a vortex swirled, its obsidian light shifting and undulating like liquid shadow. The very air around the gate grew heavier as they neared, pressing down on their bodies and minds, as though testing their resolve before allowing them entry. The Essence Lake seemed to be put under great pressure as they kept going forward, Jiang Feng frown but shook the feeling off with ease.

Each step closer made the sensation more intense. A low, resonating hum seemed to vibrate in their bones, and the chill of the mist clung to their skin, sharp and biting. The gate's sheer scale, dwarfing them, gave the impression that it was not meant for mortals, but for beings far greater than they. Yet, one by one, the juniors stepped forward, their silhouettes swallowed by the vortex, vanishing as if consumed by the abyss.

Jiang Feng lingered a moment longer, his sharp eyes taking in the sight of Fang Lili, Ji Moran, Bia Zhen, Zhao Tian, and Lan Xue as they crossed through. He memorized their composed faces and confident strides—each of them rivals, each seeking to carve their name into the annals of this generation. He turned to Lin Moyi, who stood watching with a quiet confidence. A subtle nod from Lin Moyi gave him the final push, and without hesitation, Jiang Feng advanced.

As he entered the vortex, the obsidian light enveloped him, wrapping around his body like icy chains. For a brief moment, his senses were overwhelmed. He felt a crushing weight press down on him, as if the gate were stripping away all weakness and doubt, demanding his absolute determination to proceed. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, mingling with an eerie silence that seemed to come from within. His chest tightened, his vision blurred, and then, abruptly, he was through.

The scene inside the Obsidian Waterfall Realm stole his breath. Jiang Feng found himself standing on a jagged plateau overlooking a world that defied comprehension. The spiritual energy in the air was almost tangible, thicker than he had ever experienced—at least ten times the density of the outside world. It was a pressure and an opportunity all at once, suffusing his body and sharpening his senses.

The realm stretched endlessly before him, an enormous expanse of jagged mountains, ancient forests, and shimmering rivers that glowed faintly with spiritual essence. Strange creatures darted through the skies and undergrowth, some majestic, others menacing. It was a realm of both opportunity and peril, where fortune and death walked hand in hand, death even more so!.

But as Jiang Feng glanced around, he quickly realized one unsettling fact: he was alone. The gate had separated them, scattering the juniors across the realm like seeds on the wind. He clenched his fists, his mind racing. Fang Lili, Ji Moran, Bia Zhen, Zhao Tian, Lan Xue—where were they? His instincts screamed that their separation was no accident in such a dangerous. Whether it was the realm's design or not, he could not say, but he knew one thing for certain: the battle for supremacy had already begun.

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