The dark-silver-maned warrior spotted Wei Yuan and looked somewhat surprised. "This world actually has a dharma idol? Well, fortunate enough, it is merely an ordinary dharma idol. It seems this world has advanced, only masked by some means."
The pale-gold-maned woman said, "Leave this guy to me."
In a single step, she closed the distance to Wei Yuan, drew the scimitar at her waist, and slashed toward his midriff. The strike was exceedingly potent—once unleashed, gods and ghosts fell back!
Longying appeared beside Wei Yuan, holding the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword to parry the blow.
Scimitar and sword clashed, instantly sending out a thousand-zhang ring of qi. Longying was knocked back a hundred zhang! Had the base of the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword not been an immortal sword, that single slash would have cleaved both man and blade in two.
Not only was this wolf woman at the perfection of the Dharma Idol stage, but her dharma idol was also peerlessly fierce—ranking high even among immortal manifestations. With talent comparable to Ji Liuli and Feng Tingyu, Longying, who was merely in the late Dharma Idol stage, was far from a match for her.
Failing to fell her target in one strike, the pale-gold-maned wolf woman instantly closed in on Longying again, unleashing dozens of consecutive slashes! Longying was battered about like a leather ball, stumbling and reeling, enduring only through the sheer resilience of the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword's material.
Failing to overcome her opponent after a flurry of savage attacks, the pale-gold-maned wolf woman paused in surprise. Looking at the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword in Longying's hand, a fervent light flared in her eyes. "A genuine immortal sword embryo!"
Then the look she directed at Longying changed, turning bloodthirsty and disgusted. "You don't deserve to wield her! Put her down and scram right now, and I might spare your life!"
Longying responded by giving her the middle finger.
Furious, the wolf woman knocked Longying back another hundred zhang with a single slash and gave chase.
The dark-silver-maned warrior did not move. A peculiar look rested in his eyes as he studied Wei Yuan carefully.
Wei Yuan did not move either. Instead, he asked, "Possessing such a secret technique, your tribe must be very populous."
The dark-silver-maned warrior replied slowly, "With a secret technique like this, fight a few more battles, and no matter how many clansmen there are, the numbers will dwindle."
Wei Yuan asked again, "May I know your name?"
"Yinren."
"Your talent cannot be called the best. Why was it you who reached the top?"
Yinren had not expected Wei Yuan to ask such a question. He said, "When I was young, I was indeed unremarkable; I was merely lucky. Through battle after battle, the geniuses of our tribe fell one after another, yet I survived them all. In my childhood memories, the warrior upon the throne changed three times. In the end, everyone who was once stronger than me died. When the throne became vacant once more, I was the only candidate left, so by sheer fortune, I gained the throne's acknowledgment."
Wei Yuan keenly seized upon a key point: "It sounds like you fight very frequently?"
"That is our destiny. War is not something we can choose—just like this war with you."
Wei Yuan kept his mind racing, searching for the next question.
At this moment, outside Central City, more than a hundred thousand mortals were bustling like ants, erecting several makeshift formations. Believers entered the formations in teams to occupy their respective formation eyes. From this, the differences among the immortal plants could be seen: some fielded teams of five hundred and twelve, while others had teams of four thousand and ninety-six.
Even the simplest formation required ten thousand people to take shape. Even with a thousand per team, getting everyone into position took some time. Thus, Wei Yuan engaged Yinren in conversation purely to buy time.
After answering two more questions from Wei Yuan, Yinren suddenly said, "Time is just about up. The backup plan you prepared should be ready by now, shouldn't it?"
"You knew I was stalling?"
"I knew. Because I was stalling as well. I wanted to... look at her a little longer."
Yinren seemed to sigh as he withdrew his gaze. "Her talent and Nulei's were both far superior to mine. But because I occupy the throne, they could never break through. Now Nulei is dead. As long as I die as well, the throne will be hers. Once she ascends the throne, the tribe will grow stronger."
Wei Yuan shook his head, however. "Greater strength does not make a better king. In terms of leading a tribe to multiply and flourish, she is far inferior to you."
Yinren had not expected Wei Yuan to say such words either. With a soft sigh, he replied, "Once she sits upon the throne, she will learn and grow."
A thought stirred in Wei Yuan's mind. "There is only one throne? Why is that?"
"You would have to ask the Immortal Venerable. I would like to know why as well."
Wei Yuan said, "How about this: we don't have many people on our side, so there are hardly any restrictions. The Immortal Venerable's minor worlds don't even number twenty. If you bring your entire tribe to defect to us, we'll add two more thrones for you! How about that?"
Yinren was taken aback, then burst into hearty laughter, as if hearing the most ridiculous joke imaginable.
Wei Yuan wondered, "What's so funny?"
"I laugh at you being foolish without realizing it! It seems you, like my tribe, are of a race that luckily gained free will. But we were formed from the Immortal Venerable's immortal power, essentially an extension of the immortal physique itself. How could we possibly switch allegiance?"
Yinren pointed at several of Wei Yuan's Dao Foundation warriors nearby and said, "Can they switch allegiance? Clearly not! But what about these few?"
This time, he pointed at Han Li and Dugu Cangqiong.
Wei Yuan glanced back, lost in thought.
Yinren said, "We were originally mere pawns of the Immortal Venerable; obedience was all that was required. Gaining free will has only brought trouble—all we think about all day is how to break free of the Immortal Venerable. Tell me, how could the Immortal Venerable grant a second throne to a race like ours? If this world had not already set its form, most likely even the first throne would have been taken back."
Wei Yuan came to a realization. So this entire tribe was comprised of rebels. No wonder the Worthy Prince of the Left or the Little State Preceptor had bestowed that suicidal secret technique—they wanted to exhaust them completely as cannon fodder.
Yet what did Yinren mean just now by pointing at Han Li and Dugu Cangqiong? Were those two rebels as well, sharing a sense of kindred sympathy?
By now, Wei Yuan's mind and shrewdness had grown considerably deep. After some thought, he felt Han Li was quite likely, but Dugu Cangqiong didn't seem the type; he was rather dull, and rebellion was not work he was cut out for.
What about Jun Weizhi and Fuyao? Wei Yuan felt suspicion could not be ruled out for them either, though for some reason, Yinren might have overlooked them.
By now, their conversation had run its course, and several great formations had been completed. A battle intent sparked in Wei Yuan's eyes.
Yinren slowly drew his twin blades, one long and one short, holding the short blade in a reverse grip. Raising a blade to point at Wei Yuan, he slashed downward, his twin blades churning up vast swathes of purple radiance.
Midway through the slash, Wei Yuan's vision blurred, and Yinren was already behind him!
Wei Yuan had swung his blade to parry, but struck only empty air. Looking down, he saw a long wound across his flank, seeping a murky, dark light.
Then, replenished by the origin power of the Smoke and Fire of the Mortal World, the wound closed in the blink of an eye.
Yinren looked surprised as well. Glancing at his short blade, he saw less than half a finger's width of black blood on the tip, which was now rapidly vanishing.
When his blade struck just now, it had felt as though he had hit something slippery and resilient; the edge had deflected involuntarily, failing to strike any vital spot.
"So you are the master of this world. No wonder you bear karmic luck, which helped you evade that strike just now. But that blow must have obliterated a fair amount of your karmic luck! How much karmic luck do you have left? How much longer can you hold out?" As Yinren spoke, he wiped a finger across the long blade; the purple flames along the edge deepened in color until they were nearly black.
Wei Yuan examined his sea of consciousness. Having just taken that blow, dozens of wisps of azure qi had vanished; it seemed karmic luck could indeed ward off fatal strikes. Over the past half year or so, Wei Yuan had fought bloody battles against the Liao Clan without cease, while Qingming had been recuperating, having fought only a single battle against the Zhao vanguard while continuously absorbing displaced refugees.
Thus, the consumption from warfare had been constantly replenished, and karmic luck had only declined slowly. By now, over five hundred thousand wisps of azure qi remained. If Yinren slashed him another ten thousand times, Wei Yuan would certainly die.
Wei Yuan then said, "How much karmic luck is left? Why don't you come slash a few times and find out?" The moment the words left his mouth, Wei Yuan deeply regretted it. Why provoke him for no reason? He just hadn't thought before speaking and let it slip.
Seeing Yinren strike again, Wei Yuan focused with all his might, swinging his blade to parry. Yet Yinren's figure blurred once more. His movement accelerated dozens of times in an instant, sweeping cleanly past Wei Yuan to appear behind him. Only, the slash originally aimed at the heart suddenly veered off course, merely slashing open Wei Yuan's shoulder.
This strike was exceedingly potent, obliterating close to a thousand wisps of azure qi!
Wei Yuan was greatly shocked. He immediately activated the completed formations. A chilling forest frost materialized from thin air, settling upon Yinren and instantly slowing his movements. This frost possessed an extraordinarily high tier; it not only made his body sluggish, but also slowed his thoughts by half.
This formation had been deployed by the Bingli Divine Wood on a massive scale, utilizing fifty thousand mortals in total. Though each mortal's strength was meager, many grains of sand accumulate to form a tower. Channeled and transformed through the Bingli Divine Wood as the core, it achieved such a high tier that even Yinren could not resist it.
Immediately following that, a streak of dark-red flame appeared out of thin air, igniting upon Yinren's body. Yinren felt as though thousands of tiny pores had opened across his flesh, his essence, vitality, and dharmic powers constantly draining away. He slapped at his body, but failed to extinguish the flame, nor did he feel any warmth.
Slightly surprised, he said, "Karmic fire?"
Chapter 732