In less than the space of a single breath, a gap over three meters high was torn open before him. Wang Yu let out a sharp, triumphant laugh, channeling his energy into the Thousand Li Divine Movement technique and shooting away like an arrow.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
Back within the city walls, alarm bells shattered the sky, their peals echoing like frantic cries. The patrolling cultivators nearby instantly identified the breach, their faces contorting with rage.
"After him!" one shouted, pointing a trembling finger at the vanishing silhouette. "I will alert Lord Song! We must not let that criminal escape!"
The order was met with a chorus of grim affirmations. The hunt had begun.
***
Several hours later, deep within the Withered Leaf Swamp.
This place was a notorious death trap, a landscape of convoluted waterways, clinging poisonous fogs, and bottomless bogs that concealed countless demonic beasts. The most common dangers were the armored Tuolong and the sinuous Blackwater Pythons, creatures that infested the marshlands like vermin.
At that moment, in a particularly murky patch of mire, two eyes broke the surface. They swiveled slowly, tracking the sound of methodical, searching footsteps drawing near.
Squads of armored guards fanned out through the damp air, their long blades glinting dully. They wore distinctive silver helmets, and while their cultivation levels were generally at the early Qi Refining stage, their physiques spoke of rigorous body tempering, making them more formidable than they first appeared. The leaders of each search party radiated the aura of late Qi Refining adepts. But the most formidable presence was the grey-robed elder at the center of the formation.
Foundation Establishment, Second Layer.
"I saw the fugitive flee in this direction, Lord Song. He must be close," one of the squad leaders reported, his voice tense.
The elder, Lord Song, waved a dismissive hand, a faint, unnerving smile playing on his lips. "This area is mine to handle. The quarry is merely at the late Qi Refining stage. He cannot have gone far. The rest of you, do not venture beyond three hundred yards from this point. I will extend my spirit sense to shield you from any tricks."
A unified "Yes, my lord!" rippled through the ranks.
*A spirit sense secret art?* Wang Yu's eyes, hidden just below the mud, gleamed with avaricious interest. Such arts were incredibly rare, their value comparable to any high-tier second-grade spell. This elder was only at the second layer of Foundation Establishment... it was a risk, but not an impossible fight. He had to make these pursuers hurt. He had to break their will and make them fear him. Only then could he plunge deep into the swamp's heart, beyond even Changxi's reach. That was his only path to true freedom.
His decision made, Wang Yu sank deeper into the viscous mud, moving with an eel's grace along the bottom toward the shore. He pushed his Night Veil Curse and Invisibility Art to their absolute limits, becoming little more than a shift in the water.
After the time it takes half an incense stick to burn, Wang Yu's entire body went rigid. He had felt it—an intangible, probing pressure, like ghostly fingers brushing over his form.
*A search-type spirit sense art! He's not holding back!*
***
On the shore, the grey-robed elder frowned, his gaze sharpening as he scanned the nearby mudflat. They were still on the swamp's outer fringe, an area he knew well. He was aware that demonic beasts often lurked beneath such surfaces. "A Tuolong? No... it doesn't feel like one."
His suspicion aroused, the elder summoned his signature artifact. It was a square lantern, suspended from a rod of dark, polished wood. The lamp itself was crafted from a translucent, glazed material, within which a pale grey flame flickered, casting a prismatic, multicolored light through its facets.
*Second-Grade, High-Tier Artifact: The Glazed Soul Lantern.*
It was a focusing tool, an instrument that could dramatically amplify the power of his spirit sense. Channeling his "Mountain-Scouring Demon-Seeking Art" through it would allow him to pinpoint any anomaly in the vicinity with ruthless efficiency.
His concentration was absolute. Which was why the sudden eruption of mud and water took him completely by surprise.
*SPLOOSH!*
A figure burst from the mire with explosive force, so close the elder had no time to react. A bestial roar, half-dragon, half-serpent, accompanied the attack as a phantom-like Yin Nether Demonic Python materialized, coiling around the attacker's arm. The figure launched a devastating punch, and the spectral python shot forward, the air itself screaming as it was torn apart.
*Such raw power!*
*Body Cultivation Foundation Establishment?!*
Lord Song's heart lurched. He instinctively kicked back, soaring into the air to create distance. But to his astonishment, the ethereal python twisted in mid-air, refusing to dissipate, and curved back to continue its relentless assault.
"Incredible force control!" he couldn't help but mutter, a sliver of professional admiration breaking through his alarm.
This was the hallmark of a Foundation Establishment Body Cultivator. While they lacked the ability to fly, they possessed other, equally terrifying marvels. Their vital energy and spiritual power merged, saturating their very bones and sinews instead of pooling in a dantian. Each technique forged a different core within the body.
And Wang Yu's core was the Yin Nether Demonic Python Spine! It served as the wellspring of his true essence, a power that far surpassed the simple spiritual energy of a Qi Refining cultivator. A Body Cultivator's true qualitative leap would come at the third tier, but for now, this was his strength.
The real Wang Yu, now standing firmly on his Blue Butterfly Sword, shot forward in pursuit. "You dare analyze your enemy's technique in a life-or-death struggle? It seems you have a death wish!"
"Arrogant pup!" the elder snarled, his eyes flicking between Wang Yu and the pursuing python. He dropped back to the ground, and the earth at his feet rippled like liquid. A circular wall of solid rock erupted, shielding him completely. The manifested python slammed into it head-on.
*BOOOOM!*
The concussive blast pulverized the stone barrier into dust. The sound echoed through the swamp, and the silver-helmed guards, hearing the thunderous collision, immediately began converging on their master's position.
Wang Yu let out a derisive snort. "How many spirit stones are they paying you to throw your life away like this?"
"Worry about your own skin, boy!" the elder retorted, his robes now stained and disheveled. He hurled the Glazed Soul Lantern upward. A stream of grey fire erupted from its base. It felt no hotter than a common flame, but Wang Yu's senses screamed a warning—this fire was designed to sear the spirit itself, not the flesh.
*This one is dangerous.*
Wang Yu's body blurred. Using the Phantom Steps, he split into ten identical copies, all scattering in different directions. His hands flew through a series of seals, and the temperature around them plummeted. The murky water on the ground crackled and froze solid.
The elder's lips curled in a sneer. "You think mere illusions can fool my spirit sense? A fool's hope!"
The grey fire serpent ignored the decoys, homing unerringly on Wang Yu's true body. A cold weight settled in Wang Yu's gut. Against a Foundation Establishment expert, especially one skilled in spirit sense, many of his perfected Qi Refining spells were rendered nearly useless. They simply lacked the necessary potency.
*I have to get close. This fight will be won in close quarters.*
In that instant, he unleashed the Ice Coffin Curse. Walls of thick, glistening ice shot up from the ground, forming a massive, enclosed arena around the two combatants. Shrinking the battlefield was part of his plan. A faint, lunar glow ignited deep within his pupils—the power of the Lunar Nether Eyes. Through them, he saw the true, insidious nature of the grey flame.
His nine phantom doubles, each possessing enough substance to withstand a single blow from a late Qi Refining cultivator, hurled themselves recklessly at the stream of grey fire, sacrificing themselves to block its path.
Meanwhile, the real Wang Yu brought his fingers to his lips, assuming a sword-seal gesture. Drawing on the principles of the Flame Spitting Art, he exhaled not fire, but a blizzard of chilling, pale blue flame. This frigid conflagration did not attack. Instead, it swirled around him, forming a rapidly tightening, protective vortex of absolute cold.
*This is the control of a perfected art!* The thought flashed through the elder's mind, accompanied by a sudden spike of alarm. Something was wrong. He pointed a bony finger from across the icy arena.
*Spirit Sense Attack Secret Art: Soul Shattering Finger!*
A invisible, concentrated lance of pure mental force shot toward Wang Yu's brow.
At the precise same moment, Wang Yu unleashed his own strike. He pivoted and kicked, and the Yin Nether Demonic Python erupted from his leg once more. This time, it was sheathed in a thick, rippling mantle of the chilling blue fire. Empowered, its speed redoubled. It shot forward, a blur of incarnate destruction, seeming to slip *through* the incoming spiritual attack as if it were a ghost.
It struck the grey-robed elder with the force of a meteor.
"ARGHHHHH—!"
The scream was cut short as the elder was thrown backward like a ragdoll, his body smashing deep into the thick ice wall with a sickening crunch. The pale blue flames wreathed him hungrily, and a terrifying crackling filled the air as frost bloomed across his robes and skin, rapidly encasing him in a tomb of solid ice.
As for Wang Yu...
(End of Chapter)