When there were still 25 yards left, Song Yuanchi struck from afar. His true breath roared down like a raging storm tide, layer upon layer crashing together with a thunderous force.
Even before it landed, Li Xun was already gasping for air. In desperation he glanced back. Wherever that tidal wave of qi passed, trees snapped like twigs, and anything caught in the blast was reduced to ash. Beneath its sheer violence lurked a venomous malice that made it all the more lethal.
Cursing inwardly, Li Xun still didn’t dare take that strike head-on. Hanging in midair, his body twisted sharply, spinning once before he drove himself forward into the oncoming tide.
The wind tore into his face like knives, stinging so fiercely it brought a pallor to his cheeks. The surge of force aggravated his wounds, threatening to tear them open again.
Even so, he forced the movement through. The NetherYin Qi within him flared and contracted, pushing back against the howling demonic force in the gale. With a rapid series of crackling clashes of qi, his body angled sideways and plunged into the dense forest.
Song Yuanchi’s control over his true breath was nothing to scoff at. Although Li Xun had slipped past the brunt of the frontal blast, he had not escaped Song Yuanchi’s reach.
With a low shout, Song Yuanchi shifted his blood and qi in an instant. The raging storm tide, which had seemed unstoppable, suddenly folded in on itself as though it had struck a reef, then rolled over with crushing force. Without the slightest pause, it redirected straight toward Li Xun once more.
The seamless transition was like flowing clouds and running water, so smooth that even in the midst of desperation, Li Xun couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration.
But just as Song Yuanchi had mastery in control, Li Xun had no shortage of stratagems of his own.
Before the shrieking gale reached him, his body shrank downward and slipped into the earth.
“Earth escape?”
Watching more than a dozen towering trees turn to ash under the force of the demonic energy, Song Yuanchi still felt no triumph. His eyes were cold and sharp as he suddenly surged forward, locking onto the aura he had already marked and giving chase.
Above, thunder rumbled again and again. Yuan Nan and Ti Wujiu’s battle in the sky was only growing fiercer. By comparison, this pursuit through the jungle carried less grandeur, but it was far more tense and gripping.
“Hundred Ghosts, you can’t escape!”
Song Yuanchi kept his composure. As he closed in, he used every trick he could to rattle his opponent’s mind.
Hundred Ghosts was cunning without question, but he was injured now, his state of mind bound to be unsettled. If Song Yuanchi could push him into fear or recklessness, the fight would cost him far less effort.
One man in the air, the other on the ground; they tore across more than ten li of jungle in the blink of an eye.
As if echoing their struggle, the sky filled with sharper, denser blasts. Wave after wave of sonic booms crashed together, deafening, while the forest below shuddered with their force.
Song Yuanchi could see it clearly: Hundred Ghosts was badly hurt, and every fierce movement weighed heavily on him.
After a desperate sprint of ten li, his aura suddenly faltered. Seizing the opening, Song Yuanchi let out a low cry and dove like a hawk, striking the ground with a crushing palm.
He sprang up and came crashing down, repeating the same strike seven times in quick succession.
The demonic force drove deep into the earth, snuffing out every trace of life within dozens of yards in an instant.
Under such pressure, Hundred Ghosts could no longer stay hidden. With a shriek he burst upward, death at his back, and charged forward with reckless desperation.
Song Yuanchi’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Die!”
Thunder exploded overhead, shaking even the ground beneath them. Hundred Ghosts seemed jarred by the blast; his body faltered, and suddenly he broke sideways to flee, his courage gone.
But Song Yuanchi, locked onto his aura, surged with unstoppable momentum. Unleashing the full power of the Seven Ghosts Sea-Shattering Strike, he struck, the air filled with the wailing of ten thousand spirits. His palm twisted, imprinting its mark upon the void.
There was a muffled “puh” sound. Song Yuanchi thought it was the noise of Hundred Ghosts turning to ash. Yet the next instant, a piercing chill sank into the back of his skull, severing every nerve connection in his brain.
At the same time, a feeble-looking palm struck his chest. But within that touch, searing yin fire twisted and flared, ripping through his protective true breath in a heartbeat and burning his organs to cinders.
And so, of the ill-fated Eighteen Nether Generals, another was gone.
“Trash is still just trash.”
Shui Die Lan landed lightly on a branch that jutted out to the side, smiling as she looked down from above. It was she who had returned silently, weaving illusions to bewilder Song Yuanchi before delivering the fatal strike.
Li Xun clasped his fists in salute and said with genuine admiration, “Many thanks for your help, Fairy Shui. Your skill is remarkable.”
And he meant it. He was deeply impressed by the illusions of this Hundred-Illusion Butterfly Demon. They came without the slightest warning, shifting freely to fit the moment, endless in their transformations and nearly impossible to guard against.
Song Yuanchi had been sharp and shrewd, yet Shui Die Lan had guided his strike astray, opening him wide to attack and costing him his life.
Catching his breath, Li Xun added, “Though in your eyes he may have been nothing but trash, if one or two more of that kind appear, we may find ourselves in real trouble. What do you suggest, Fairy?”
“Just as now,” she replied. “We join forces.”
Li Xun let out a dry laugh. “Yes, yes, of course.”
But even as they spoke, cold glints flickered in both their eyes, showing not the slightest trace of trust.
At that very moment, a shockwave erupted, far more violent than anything before. It was like a volcanic blast. In an instant it tore across miles of distance and swept past them.
The surge of energy raged like a tsunami. Countless ancient trees, rooted for centuries, were ripped from the earth and torn to shreds in midair by the violent currents.
Caught off guard, Li Xun was swept up and sent tumbling like a gourd rolling across the ground. Shui Die Lan fared a little better; as one great tree toppled, she leapt down, though she still staggered when she landed.
Seeing each other in such a sorry state, both could only give a wry smile.
Li Xun, still baffled, said, “What’s gotten into them? It’s not even time for a fight to the death yet.”
Shui Die Lan, more experienced, answered lightly, “Ti Wujiu had a personal disciple. Yuan Nan refined him into a Calamity-Bane Ghost Idol. Ti Wujiu went for revenge and smashed Yuan Nan’s once-passable face into the wretched ruin it is now..."
“Oh, got it.”
Li Xun nodded, then raised his head again to watch the battle in the sky.
He recalled the analysis he’d made a few days earlier, and as he studied the clash before him, a touch of pride rose in his heart. The scene matched his predictions almost exactly. Ti Wujiu pressing forward step by step with the force of Vast Righteous Qi, while Yuan Nan steadily fell behind, forced onto the defensive.
It hadn’t been long since they had clashed, yet Yuan Nan’s ugly face had already flushed red, then turned green, then pale white; shifting through colors again and again.
But to think Yuan Nan was merely lashing out in shame or treating his opponent lightly would be dangerous. Li Xun knew better. In truth, Yuan Nan was cycling through different breathing and qi circulation techniques, trying to disorient Ti Wujiu with sudden shifts, then strike ruthlessly in hopes of overturning the fight in one move.
Li Xun asked himself what he would do if he had to face Ti Wujiu. Stripping away the difference in cultivation, setting aside the Mingxin Sect techniques, and leaving aside the two puppets, if it came down to just the techniques recorded in the Netherworld Record, he could only fight the same way Yuan Nan was now.
But would someone with Ti Wujiu’s vision and experience ever allow Yuan Nan such a chance? Li Xun doubted it.
By this time Yuan Nan had already tried multiple tricks to widen the distance between them.
Yet every gesture from Ti Wujiy brimmed with true breath. Even across several li, his force never slackened in the slightest. And when he shifted his true breath, it flowed with seamless ease. No matter how Yuan Nan twisted and schemed, Ti Wujiu’s vast momentum drove him into direct confrontation again and again.
In the blink of an eye, they clashed twice more. Yuan Nan’s pale, sickly face flushed a deep blood-red.
As for Ti Wujiu, his square features stayed calm and composed, but his eyes were sharp and alive with spirit. His gray robe seemed to breathe with him, swelling and contracting in rhythm with his true breath, steady and controlled; showing clearly that he still had strength to spare.
Li Xun narrowed his eyes. Ti Wujiu wasn’t even targeting him, yet the force of that righteous qi still burned like the midsummer sun to someone who cultivated demonic techniques. It was scorching, piercing, agitating, and even slowed his recovery from injury. He honestly couldn’t fathom how Yuan Nan was enduring it.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Yuan Nan let out a piercing shriek. His blood-red face instantly drained to a deathly white, and in the narrow slits of his eyes flickered an unnatural green light.
The scream gathered and condensed, refusing to scatter, and clashed head-on with the Vast Righteous Qi saturating the air as if it were something solid.
This time there was no audible sound, but Li Xun’s eardrums throbbed with pain. The impact’s force was beyond anything ordinary.
As the shriek rang out, Yuan Nan’s tall frame suddenly shrank by two inches, while his torso thickened noticeably. At the same time, the space around him abruptly collapsed inward, as though a hole had been torn open in the very void.
Oh? Which demon soul is possessing him this time?
A cold glint flashed in Li Xun’s eyes. He recognized it at once: the Netherfiend Spirit Body, one of the Guardian Arts of the Underworld Monarch Sect. By a unique method, it seized alien spirits from beyond the void to possess the body, granting a sudden surge of cultivation. It was oddly similar to the Nether Qi “Cross-Void Qi Drawing” technique.
Just a few days earlier, the Fifth Nether General, Li Yuanxi, had used the same trick, but Shui Di Lan had cut him down in an instant, leaving him no chance to unleash it before he had died in bitter frustration.
By contrast, Yuan Nan was bringing out the full might of this technique.
As the air around him warped and twisted, the Netherfiend Spirit Body took complete form.
Through this technique, the gap between Yuan Nan and Ti Wujiu had nearly been erased.
Though they were still more than a hundred yards apart, Yuan Nan ignored the distance. His fingers, now nearly doubled in thickness from the possession, bent with force. Crossing his hands, he formed a seal, and in an instant he pulled on no fewer than three thousand strands of qi mechanisms, weaving and colliding until the air rang with a deep, shuddering hum.
Ti Wujiu frowned slightly. He stepped once into the void, and without reason or logic his body crossed at least fifty paces, shifting to the side.
A shrill tearing sound sliced past his ear. He tilted his head just slightly, but his frame jolted, and the steady rhythm of his robe faltered for a breath. A thin tear split open across his shoulder.
Ghostless Blade Light?
Li Xun had never seen such a technique before, and could only guess.
Ti Wujiu’s face grew heavier. He fixed his gaze on Yuan Nan, who was shifting position again. After a brief pause, he gave his sleeve a flick, revealing a pair of hands that, apart from being spotlessly clean, bore no unusual traits.
Their eyes met, and in that instant the storm-tossed sky fell into a strange and sudden silence. Yuan Nan’s hand seals broke apart, both fists clenched so tight that the swelling flesh creaked as if some immense power was about to burst free.
Li Xun seized the moment to glance at Shui Die Lan. She too had lifted her head to watch, making no move to tend to her injuries.
But Li Xun clearly saw what was happening. Around her feet lay seven or eight broken fragments of sword blades, forced out of her body by sheer mastery of internal skill.
It was anything but easy. One look at her face said enough. Pale to the point of translucence, as if she might faint at any moment.
And still she had the strength to watch?
Just as Li Xun was wondering, her nose twitched twice, as though she had caught a scent. He remembered her unnerving sense of smell, and his heart stirred.
Feeling his gaze, Shui Die Lan turned her head. Her expression was grave as she spoke. “This is bad.”
“Hm?”
Li Xun was about to ask when his chest suddenly tightened. Even his breathing grew difficult.
His body reacted at once, instinctively shifting into internal breathing, but the pressure outside suddenly multiplied a hundredfold. The very air around him was compressed into something almost solid. It felt less like standing in a forest than at the bottom of the ocean, hundreds of fathoms deep.
Trees, rocks, birds, beasts... living or dead, it made no difference. Under that crushing force everything twisted and buckled.
Trees splintered, rocks cracked apart, and countless creatures were simply squeezed into pulp.
Li Xun spat a mouthful of blood, realizing his injuries, only just stabilized, were breaking open again, even worse than before.
A sharp metallic clang rang out. Shui Die Lan had forced the last shards of broken sword from her body in a single burst. The pain was so fierce she bit her lower lip until blood ran.
Li Xun looked at her, and she met his gaze. “This time, if we don’t fight together, we’re finished.”
Even as the words left her mouth, Ti Wujiu and Yuan Nan closed the gap between them to less than ten feet. Ti Wujiu swept out a wide sleeve; Yuan Nan answered with nothing more than a brutal punch.
Cloth and fist collided, and it was like thunder cracking in midair. The dense surge of primordial qi burst forth in the narrow space between them with terrifying violence.
At first there was a deep, muffled boom, but the sound quickly climbed as if racing up a ladder to the sky, sharper and sharper until it reached the breaking point. And then it snapped off in silence.
Li Xun felt his head pound and nearly staggered again. Above him, the raging surge of primordial qi in the sky collapsed downward with the force of a falling thunderbolt, shaking the ground for hundreds of li around.
After the clash, Yuan Nan spun in place like a heavy top, whirling frantically to shed the terrible backlash of power.
Ti Wujiu fared little better. He was flung back several dozen yards, his wide sleeves rippling like waves as he too bled off the force. He carried himself with calm poise, making it look far more graceful than Yuan Nan’s clumsy spinning.
But even from the ground, Li Xun caught a whiff of something strange and sinister in the air.
What followed unfolded like a sudden, soundless play. Every change came in a rush of shifting images, searing themselves into the mind of anyone who watched.
First came a faint, twisted shadow sweeping across the sky for thousands of feet. It flickered in and out, like a phantom conjured from nothing, and without a sound it clung to Ti Wujiu’s back.
Only then did Ti Wujiao seem to realize, but he had no time to turn. The face that had been so stern and dignified twisted under the shock of searing pain.
His scholar’s robe ballooned like an inflated bladder, bursting the shadow away, but blood spurted at once from all seven orifices of his face. The sight was ghastly.
In that instant his body shrank a full size.
While everyone was still stunned by the change, a cloud of gray dust burst up where Ti Wujiu stood, swallowing him whole.
It lasted only a moment. When his surging righteous aura blew the haze aside, his once jet-black hair had turned completely gray, and the exposed skin of his face had lost all luster.
Four or five sword-lights leapt into the air, disciples of the Heavenly Vigorous Sect, trying to shield Ti Wujiu’s life.
But at the same time, another sword-light rose. It was a dull, bluish gray, the color of corroded copper.
At once the sky filled with the strange stench of rust. The blade-flash glimmered once, and then the heavens seemed to rain with falling swords, like a storm of shooting stars crashing to the ground.
At that moment Yuan Nan, still spinning like a top, charged straight upward. Ti Wujiu’s dazed eyes flickered with the barest trace of clarity as his hands began to rise. But before they could even reach his abdomen, Yuan Nan’s heavy fist slammed into his chest. Through the front and out the back.
Ti Wujiu’s shrill howl shattered the eerie stillness.
And in that cry, the hands he had been lifting suddenly surged with force. Just as Yuan Nan tore his fist free, Ti Wujiu drove both palms hard into his opponent’s chest.
With a muffled boom, Yuan Nan’s chest caved in visibly, blood pouring from his seven orifices as he was blasted backward.
Only then did Li Xun, stunned on the ground, snap back to himself. The screams, the blasts, the wild laughter, the shrieking of swords. In that instant, all sound rushed in at once, layered and colliding. The explosive surge of information generated from it slammed into his mind.
Murder!
That was his first thought. Then, in the midst of the chaos, he caught the hidden signs beneath it all: Demonic Phantom Arts, the Five Decays of Heaven and Man, the Soul-Draining Remnant Sword…
He froze. Heavens above... how have the Succubus Sect, the Venom Veil Sect, and the Heavenly Demon Sword Sect all joined forces with the Underworld Monarch Sect?
The shrieking in the sky cut off suddenly. When Li Xun looked up, he saw the phantom shadow, which had first been blasted away, return again and cling to Ti Wujiu’s already broken body.
In an instant, Ti Wujiu’s towering figure shrank once more.
Blood-Devouring Essence Search. it really is the Succubus Sect!
Li Xun knew what it meant: someone from the Succubus Sect was draining Ti Wujiu’s essence blood to feed themselves. In this situation, there was only one thing he could say.
“Ti Wujiu is finished.”