It was too late to dodge. Spirit sense attack arts were notoriously swift, far exceeding the reaction speed of an early Foundation Establishment cultivator. All Wang Yu perceived was a fleeting grey flash before impact.
"Ugh!" Wang Yu grunted, clutching his forehead.
The world spun violently. His mind clouded, vision blurring as if shrouded in a thick fog. The spirit sense attack targeted the most fundamental weakness of a cultivator. Fortunately, Wang Yu's cultivation of the Lunar Nether Pupils had, as a side effect, granted him a robust spirit sense. A single Soul Shattering Finger could only disorient him for a moment.
Outside the massive ice coffin, the silver-helmed guards had assembled. Over a hundred of them hacked and slashed at the icy walls with their long blades. By the look of it, the walls would hold for a minute, maybe two at most. Thankfully, these were body cultivators who practiced a special technique; they couldn't simply melt the ice with fire-element spells.
Turning his gaze to the frozen grey-robed elder, Wang Yu charged. With one hand, he summoned the Golden Blade Whip, lashing it out. The whip elongated rapidly, wrapping around the ice-encased elder and yanking him forward—a truly macabre meeting of prisoner and captor.
Trapped within the ice, the old man, clearly shocked by Wang Yu's swift recovery, could only stare in terror, his eyes darting frantically.
*Whoosh!*
High above, the Glazed Soul Lantern, having finally dispelled the nine phantom doubles, reacted. Wreathed in grey flame, it dove toward Wang Yu like a vengeful spirit.
Wang Yu didn't even glance at it. Black smoke erupted from his body, instantly coalescing into a suit of ferocious,狰狞 (zhēng níng - ferocious, hideous) black armor. Twisted human faces and roaring bull heads seemed to writhe upon its surface.
*Soul-Devouring Evil Armor Art!*
As a half-step high-grade demonic art, the Black Fiend Armor was born to defend against spirit sense attacks. He had held it back, a trump card reserved for the decisive moment. To that end, he had even taken the Soul Shattering Finger head-on.
*Hiss—Sizzle—*
The grey flames licked over the armor, but Wang Yu remained utterly unaffected, as if it were nothing.
The Profound Yin Hands shot out. Both fists struck simultaneously, shattering the frozen block containing the elder into a million pieces. The old man inside was naturally struck by the tremendous force as well. His eyes widened with disbelief as he felt his body being torn apart.
*RIIIP—*
His left arm was violently torn away. Then his right. Followed by his legs.
His face turned crimson with strain as he pushed the Glazed Soul Lantern's power to its absolute limit, but he could only watch, helpless, as the black-armored figure dismembered him, piece by piece, reducing him to a limbless torso.
How utterly brutal!
"D-Daoist... f-friend... s-spare me..." he stammered, his voice a broken whisper.
"You only beg for mercy after you've lost? How naive can you be? Hah!" Wang Yu's voice was a cold sneer from within the helmet.
Outside the icy walls, the silver-helmed guards watched the brutal dismemberment of Lord Song, swallowing hard in unison.
"Lord Song, he..."
"Let's go! Now! We must fetch the Sword Sect disciples, quickly!"
Wang Yu's head snapped around. *Trying to run now? Too late!*
He raised his right hand, fingers curling as if grasping something, and aimed it at the fleeing guards. With a grinding roar, another giant ice coffin materialized, trapping them all. The Ice Coffin Curse, in his hands, displayed a derivative subtlety its original creator had never envisioned.
Over a hundred guards were trapped. Panic set in immediately, and they used all their strength to try and break the frozen coffin. But their cultivation was too low. Relying solely on the brute force of their first-grade body refinement, it was nearly impossible to chisel a path to survival through the constantly regenerating ice.
Before reaching the third tier, body cultivators rarely held an advantage against orthodox cultivators with combat wisdom. This was precisely why the path had gradually declined. If it were truly superior to the Qi Refining system, it wouldn't have been largely abandoned over the ages. It could only serve as a supplement to a primary cultivation path, not the sole Dao.
"Frigid Chaos Kill!"
His outstretched arm twisted. The massive ice coffin began to shrink. Thick, sharp icicles sprouted rapidly from its inner walls. In the blink of an eye, hundreds, then thousands of icy spikes filled the enclosed space.
The interior became a true coffin, a sepulcher echoing with death. Blood flowed freely, painting the ice a gruesome crimson, transforming it into a scene from a scarlet hell.
Wang Yu, who had wrought all this, looked on with utter impassivity.
He took out a top-grade Spirit Restoration Pill and swallowed it. Only then did he begin to clean up the battlefield. He collected all the storage pouches. Then, he methodically severed every head. Using his spiritual power to form a long spike of ice, he impaled the hundred-plus skulls, one after another, stacking them into a grisly pyramid on the spot.
This was his return gift for Changxi.
Years ago, he had been taken unwillingly. Now, upon his return, this act was a declaration of the demonic path he had chosen to walk. The Demonic Womb had been forged. He was destined to walk a road of devouring others to strengthen himself. The dual spiritual roots were just the beginning. Even with different bloodlines, as long as their innate talent surpassed his, he could plant a demonic seed, devour them, and use their essence to bolster his own.
*Hunt the prodigies of heaven, and I shall become Heaven itself!*
***
Several days later, the Moonbeam Fairy, traveling north past Black Mountain Pass, finally arrived at the site of the battle.
The moment she saw the grey-robed elder's head, its eyes wide with死不瞑目 (sǐ bù míng mù -死不瞑目 - to die with a grievance, with eyes unwilling to close), she immediately understood everything.
"Wang Yu! What a fine demonic whelp you are."
Beside her, Lan Boting was displeased. He had followed Changxi for the merits and功劳 (gōngláo - credit). Now, with such a massive blunder, the sect contribution points he'd earned in the Black Mountain Demon Territory might all be forfeit. "Moonbeam Senior Sister, I told you that brat should have been killed! You insisted on sparing him. Who will take responsibility for these hundred-plus lives?"
Changxi shot him a cold glance. "This Fairy's plans require no discussion with you. Rather than shifting blame, perhaps you should think about how to deal with the spies hidden within Black Mountain Pass."
Lan Boting wanted to rage but didn't dare. Trying to find support among like-minded colleagues, he said with a sarcastic tone, "What time is it for moving against Black Mountain Pass? What if the demonic path attacks while we're occupied? Am I the only one who thinks Senior Sister Moonbeam lacks perspective here?"
His gaze swept around, but the other three Foundation Establishment disciples immediately lowered their heads, remaining silent.
"Fine! Fine! If you all want to court madness, go by yourselves! This master will venture deep into the Withered Leaf Swamp and capture that demon to atone for this crime! If you wish to avoid the censure of the inspectors, follow me. If you're not afraid, then stay here! Hmph!" Lan Boting flicked his sleeves and stormed off. His airborne figure paused momentarily, but when no one followed, his face darkened terribly. Feeling he had lost face, he ultimately plunged alone into the depths of the swamp.
"Short-sighted fools!" a young male cultivator at the third layer of Foundation Establishment commented shortly after Lan Boting had vanished. He then approached Changxi, his tone ingratiating. "Senior Sister Moonbeam, Lan Boting has always thought too highly of himself and lacks respect for his seniors. Let him do as he pleases. What are your orders now?"
Changxi glanced at him sideways. The young man instinctively straightened his back, offering what he believed was a dashingly handsome smile.
*Sigh—* An intangible sigh seemed to hang in the air.
Changxi was silent for a long time before speaking. "We return. Continue handling the aftermath for the rescued women. The Withered Leaf Swamp is vast and boundless, its underground connected to water dragon veins. Once someone enters it, it's like a fish returning to the sea; finding them again is immensely difficult. The grievance of today will be settled with him in the future."
"Yes."
Having made her decision, Changxi personally oversaw the collection of the corpses and heads. Withered Leaf City was sizable and fell under the Green Cloud Sect's jurisdiction. The death of a Foundation Establishment elder on her orders would undoubtedly lead to protracted disputes. The mere thought of it gave her a headache.
A whisper echoed in the depths of her heart. *I remember you, Wang Yu.*
(End of Chapter)