Chapter 82 — Ten

The righteous cultivators were shocked, and a moment later saw figures flying through the air—it was the Poison God, Yuyang Zi, and the Three Wonders Fairy, leading the remaining three great factions of the demonic cult to reinforce them.

The demonic masters poured into the fray, and the tide turned in an instant. The Poison God slowly walked over to the Nether King, who stood there watching them with a look of gratification, his gaze on the battle ahead, a smile on his face as well—yet he said in a low voice: "Brother, you're a ruthless one!"

The Nether King smiled slightly. "The old senior disregarded everything for our Holy Sect, braving extraordinary danger—in days to come his name will surely be passed down through the ages, sung by the disciples of the Holy Sect for generations."

The Poison God gave a bitter laugh, shot him a glare, and cursed under his breath: "Bullshit!"

With this great host of the demonic cult arriving, the Canglan Sect—already gravely depleted—was pressed back despite Tian Buhui and the others' desperate efforts, and the situation gradually grew critical.

Master Daoyan surveyed the whole field, his eyes seeming to spit fire. In a single day, the sacred, inviolable Canglan Mountain had been stormed back and forth by these demonic cultists—a humiliation unparalleled since the sect's founding.

But more important was the predicament before him. In that brief moment, he made some resolution and raised his arm.

The four sect masters of the demonic cult had not yet entered the fray, their eyes almost all fixed on Master Daoyan. At a glance they knew the old villain meant to risk all and once more activate the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation—how could they let him have his way? In an instant four figures shot forward like lightning, converging on Master Daoyan as though by prior agreement.

At that very moment, as though summoned by something, the spirit beast that had lain outside the Yuheng Hall all this while—the water qilin—suddenly gave a mighty roar and charged in with tremendous force. Such an ancient beast's strength was in no way inferior to any master cultivator's; its charge came with a fierce howl of wind, and to be struck by it was no laughing matter. The Nether King and the others were checked for a moment, and in a flash the water qilin had reached Master Daoyan's side.

It crouched beside Master Daoyan, opened its great maw, and spat out an object. Master Daoyan reached out and took it.

The demonic cultists were astonished. Looking closely, they saw it was indeed a long sword—but now utterly lusterless, as though forged from some strange stone, blade and hilt all of one piece. It looked like a plain, unremarkable stone sword, and upon the blade one could faintly see patterns running crosswise, seeming rather worn, with faint cracks running across it as well.

So this was what the ancient Immortal-Slaying Sword looked like—and that it was hidden in the water qilin's mouth was something no one could have imagined.

A moment later, when the Immortal-Slaying Sword fell into Master Daoyan's hand, a sudden transformation occurred: in an instant, from the blade of that ancient sword blazed an inconceivable white-hot light, and within moments it had wholly shrouded the vast Yuheng Hall. The crowd was shaken, and all ceased fighting.

But within the radiance, Master Daoyan's body swayed again several times.

The Nether King and the others, men of vast experience, needed no words—they lunged forward together. Tian Buhui and the rest shouted in fury, but it was too late to aid him. Yet though Master Daoyan's body was frail, leaning on the water qilin with his left hand, with his right he raised the Immortal-Slaying Sword and swept it forward—and in an instant the white light surged like a tidal wave, rolling over mountains and seas. The Poison God and the others met it with all their strength; the two forces collided with a thunderous roar.

The Yuheng Hall, already half ruined, now saw even its remaining broken walls and crumbling pillars collapse with a crash, and in an instant dust filled the air. The Nether King and the others could not help but stagger back a step, all four faces changing color—the power of the Immortal-Slaying Sword was truly inconceivable.

Yet even so, Master Daoyan, shrouded in the radiance of the Immortal-Slaying Sword, spat out a great mouthful of blood with a "pff." But he paid no heed at all, forcing himself up onto the water qilin's back. The water qilin gave a great roar, bared its fangs and claws, and flew into the sky.

Between heaven and earth, suddenly only that thread of Immortal-Slaying light remained, flickering with brilliant radiance, growing ever brighter. Accompanied by waves of chanting, that incomparably radiant seven-colored sword of qi appeared once more in the sky, ceaselessly dividing into single-colored swords of qi, streaming with color.

The demonic cultists all paled. The Poison God stamped his foot fiercely and said urgently: "This formation's power is truly too great—we cannot match it by force. We withdraw first."

The Nether King, though watching Master Daoyan's tottering form, could not for the life of him understand how a man so gravely wounded he should be at death's door could still activate such an earth-shaking formation that consumed so much of his vital essence. But since the formation had been activated, its power was no small matter, and in the end he dared not stake the lives of the demonic disciples on a gamble. With a long sigh, he leapt into the air, signaling his disciples to retreat.

Bili pulled Zhang Qingyue, about to fly off, when suddenly a figure flashed before them—it was Xueqi, blocking their way, the Tianya Divine Sword in her hand blazing with blue light. Xueqi said coldly: "Junior Brother Zhang is of our Canglan Sect. Let him go at once!"

How could Bili let that be? "Leave him with you so you can kill him?" she cried furiously. "Kill me first, then!"

With that she said no more; Shangxin Hua struck through the air.

By now the Shixian Sword Formation had already shrouded the summit of Jietian Peak, and heaven and earth were gradually darkening. Some of the Hades Sect cultivators saw Bili locked in combat with Lu Xueqi and at once turned back to help her; the righteous side rushed in as well, and in an instant all was chaos again.

Zhang Qingyue's heart was a torment beyond bearing; he felt a savage, murderous thought howling and shrieking through his mind, a terrible yet seductive sensation of annihilation—of slaughtering countless lives—filling his every thought.

The Black Iron Staff seemed to answer its master's will as well: red, azure, and gold light wheeled and shifted in turn, but plainly the red was growing ever more dominant.

Facheng, watching from the side, grew desperate. Ever since he had first seen Zhang Qingyue at Kongsang Mountain that day, he had regarded him with special favor because of that secret from years past, and now he was determined at all costs not to see Zhang Qingyue fall into the demonic path. In a flash he lunged for the Black Iron Staff in Zhang Qingyue's hand.

Bili was frantic, but pinned down by Lu Xueqi and the others, she could only cry out sharply, "Xiaofan, look out!"

To her horror, Zhang Qingyue seemed to hear nothing at all and let Facheng seize the Black Iron Staff. Facheng was overjoyed—but a moment later his expression changed drastically, for a ferocious malevolence came surging off the staff like a tide, and the plain, honest Zhang Qingyue before him suddenly wore a hideous grin, the grin of a malevolent ghost.

"Aah!" Facheng screamed in agony as Zhang Qingyue struck him full in the chest with the Black Iron Staff; spewing blood, he was sent flying backward.