Chapter 93 — On the Verge of Eruption

"Careful!" "Master, careful!" Cries of alarm rang out one after another. This purple thunder was a secret Kunlun art, the thunder-summoning method of the Supreme Clarity Purple Mansion Immortal Formula, an esoteric transmission from high antiquity whose power exceeded ordinary cultivation-world lightning arts several times over. Yiyunzi had devoted himself to spellcraft alone for nearly twenty years; though he was still far from the realm where ten thousand thunders burst forth and heaven and earth collapse, his might was fearsome enough. And because Ling Yan had coughed blood and been wounded, Yiyunzi's heart burned with fury; he struck in bitter hatred, holding nothing back. Everyone present could feel the fierce killing intent within that vast, imposing purple thunder.

Zhou Chen, though he shouted a warning, had no power to withstand that onrushing purple thunder, and could only watch helplessly as the bolt came crashing straight down upon Zhou Xuan's head—when all at once a shuttle-shaped radiance of rosy cloud came hurtling forth.

Zhou Xuan's whole body surged with true essence, golden light gathering; he was just about to strike ruthlessly and finish off this baffling pair of men and women, and was even weighing whether to dispose of that old Daoist Qianji as well and root out all future trouble. The purple thunder might look boundless in power, and everyone else might deem it utterly perilous, but in the eyes of Zhou Lin and others who had reached the Return-to-Void stage, it was no more than children playing house.

The first to call a warning had been Zhou Yan; Yun Xiuzi now suddenly acted, and the shuttle-shaped radiance that burst forth conjured above Zhou Xuan's head a hundred-odd dense layers of light-netting, each layer faintly showing tiny talismanic scripts, giving an impression of extreme tenacity. Bang! Bang! Bang! Like Mount Tai pressing down, the purple thunder—ten zhang thick, a hundred zhang long—slammed into the light-netting, and the heaven-shaking roar of the explosions resounded without cease. In an instant of impact half the netting was shattered, yet the once-massive thunder had thinned considerably, far from its former might.

The Cloud-Rosy Radiance Soul-Extinguishing Shuttle was worthy of its name as an ancient treasure; though meant for attack, its defense was no weak thing either. This Yiyunzi's power and cultivation were but on par with Yun Xiuzi's. Had the Supreme Clarity Purple Mansion Immortal Thunder been trained to its highest realm, it would of course yield to no immortal weapon or treasure—but even old Daoist Qianji was a great distance short of that, let alone Yiyunzi.

The purple immortal thunder, blocked by the hundred-odd layers of light-netting woven by the Cloud-Rosy Radiance Soul-Extinguishing Shuttle, was at last spent entirely; after successively breaking through ninety-nine layers of netting, it vanished into the air.

"Could it be that what the Palace Master said is true, and Xia-mei has met a karmic entanglement from a past life?" The Seven-Colored Fairy looked at Yun Xiuzi, whose face was somewhat pale and whose steps were unsteady, and shook her head inwardly. Yunxia had actually worried about this man, and even taken the initiative to block the thunder for him. Recalling Yun Xiuzi's usual temperament, the Seven-Colored Fairy could not help but believe in the divination arts of the Palace Master of Zizai Palace.

Yun Xiuzi's intervention seemed openly to help Zhou Xuan, but in truth it saved the lives of Ling Yan and Yiyunzi. Zhou Jin had in an instant gathered immense thought-power and was preparing to hurl the Purple Mansion Immortal Thunder back, repaying the other in his own coin; the Blood-Transforming Divine Blade within him was poised to strike, and at the very moment the Purple Mansion Immortal Thunder reversed course, he would unleash a full-force assault on old Daoist Qianji, seeking to bury all three of Kunlun's master and disciples on the spot with a single blow. If Zhou Xuan had conceived a killing intent, he would surely strike with all his might, leaving no room at all.

Zhou Que's plan was excellent: hurl the Purple Mansion Immortal Thunder back, and by the power and cultivation of Yiyunzi and Ling Yan they could certainly not withstand it. Old Daoist Qianji would not stand by and watch his disciples blasted to fine dust; he would have to act to block it. At that moment Zhou Xuan would launch a sneak attack with the Blood-Transforming Divine Blade, and the chance of success would be at least nine in ten. In truth, however high old Daoist Qianji's power, it was not higher than that of Dharma King Xuanyuan and Wen Yanlan, to say nothing of Bai Qi. Even if he fell out with Kunlun and made enemies of them, with Zhou Xuan's present strength he had little to fear; what Zhou Xuan dreaded was that magic treasure which had stirred his Blood-Transforming Divine Blade the instant he first set eyes on old Daoist Qianji.

If it truly was a primordial exotic treasure left over from the Investiture of the Gods in high antiquity, its power could well be called earth-shaking. Wielded by old Daoist Qianji, even if he could not draw out its full strength, it was likely more than Zhou Tan could withstand. Had Zhou Xuan fully refined the Blood-Transforming Divine Blade, then naturally he would slay gods that barred his way and buddhas that blocked his path—but this primordial demon-weapon had come to Zhou Xuan by chance, and he had never obtained the cultivation methods Yu Hua had left behind, relying wholly on his own groping. Though he had gleaned some marvelous uses and could barely rouse a portion of the blade's power, it was far from enough. Kunlun's secret treasure, by contrast, had been passed down generation to generation, and surely the methods of cultivation, the ways of wielding and merging with it, had all been transmitted as well. The power old Daoist Qianji could bring to bear was naturally far greater than Zhou Xuan's; in a contest of magical implements at this level, personal cultivation became a secondary matter. Zhou Xuan of course would not fight old Daoist Qianji head-on.

The moment Yun Xiuzi acted, Zhou Ji knew it was bad—the plan was thrown into disarray, and such an opportunity, once lost, would not come again. Yet the other had plainly meant to help out of kindness, and Zhou Xun could hardly turn a hostile face on her. Seeing Yun Xiuzi's face slightly pale, faint cold sweat breaking out, and her steps unsteady, Zhou Heng judged that taking that thunderbolt had likely injured her vital essence, and was minded to give her some help.

His left hand formed a mudra, the little finger giving a slight empty flick, and his deep, abundant true essence flowed across the void into Yun Xiuzi's body—again the art of transmitting power through thought.

Yun Xiuzi was indeed in a bad way. Seeing that Kunlun disciple suddenly strike to kill, her heart had clenched as though the thunder were falling not on Zhou Xuan but on herself. Without the slightest hesitation she had moved to block it, giving no thought to the fact that her Cloud-Rosy Radiance Soul-Extinguishing Shuttle was an offensive treasure whose defensive arts were less than outstanding. Sure enough, Kunlun's secret method was no trifling thing: though she had in the end helped block the purple heaven-thunder's bombardment, the shuttle's light-netting had been broken, and her own true essence had taken a tremendous shock. Her vision swam black, stars bursting before her eyes; had she not forcibly summoned a breath of vital essence, she would likely have coughed blood on the spot.