A Deal

Old Devil Fang's appearance stirred a brief wave of commotion, which soon subsided. The cultivators waited in silence. Midnight came and went. A subtle change touched the Grand Shaman's expression, and her vermilion lips parted softly. "Fellow Daoist Lingzhuzi, the hour has arrived. I shall now activate the Thousand Swords Formation." Lingzhuzi pinched his fingers in calculation, then said in a deep voice, "The immortal formation here happens to be at its weakest right now. We will do everything in our power to assist you in breaching it. Let us begin." With that, Lingzhuzi flicked his horsetail whisk. The other Nascent Soul cultivators fanned out, taking positions along the perimeter of the grand array. Channeling their true essence, they poured it into the spirit formation. Seeing this, the Core Formation cultivators stirred in a flurry of movement and stepped back one after another, terrified of being caught in the formation's aftershocks, yet unwilling to retreat too far lest they miss this rare spectacle. Soon, the Nascent Soul cultivators of both races stood dispersed across their marks. At the center of the array, Lingzhuzi and Old Devil Fang flanked the Grand Shaman on the left and right. Taking a deep breath, the Grand Shaman lifted a jade-like hand. Gentle ripples stirred across the water below as a milky-white speck of light rose slowly from beneath the sea. Stretching out as it ascended, it transformed into a slender spirit sword. Immediately after, she produced a mustard seed bag with her other hand. Tilting the bag downward, a flash of light burst forth. Spirit stones rained down like flowing water, striking the sea's surface—and every single one was a top-grade spirit stone! Such an astronomical display of wealth utterly stunned the Core Formation cultivators watching from afar. Only now did they understand why a single jade talisman was priced so extravagantly. And this was merely the spirit stones; the cost of the spiritual materials required to lay down such a formation must have reached unimaginable heights. Likely only the paramount powers could ever afford such an undertaking. The falling spirit stones landed precisely upon the specks of light scattered across the sea. The moment they struck the water, the lights swallowed them, dissolving them without a sound. Fed by the stones, the specks of light swelled little by little. Just like the one the Grand Shaman had summoned, they rose slowly into the air, each turning into a slender sword of light. All around, the Nascent Soul cultivators moved in unison. Each drew upon the light swords surrounding them, turning them into flowing torrents of radiance that surged toward the center of the grand array. Both their speed and their momentum were astonishing. Accomplishing this was clearly no easy feat. Strained expressions appeared on every Nascent Soul cultivator's face, and several even summoned their magic treasures to aid the effort. The Grand Shaman's gaze focused slightly as she looked toward Lingzhuzi and Old Devil Fang. Man and cicada simultaneously unleashed rays of cyan and yellow light, connecting with the central sword of light as though straining with all their might to hoist it upward. At the same time, the streams of light converged from all directions, plunging headlong into the central sword. Without a ripple of turbulence, the sword of light acted like a bottomless abyss, devouring everything. In a breath, the thousand swords merged into one, drawing in the full might of the grand array. A terrifying concentration of power gathered in that single spot. Even standing at the outermost perimeter, Qin Sang and the others could vaguely sense the force building. A shiver ran down their spines, leaving them trembling with dread. Lingzhuzi's expression grew grim. His whisk remained linked to the sword of light, his arm vibrating faintly. Old Devil Fang spread his wings, fluttering them rapidly. The piercing hum of the cicada grew shriller than before, grating harshly on the nerves of all who heard it. The greatest burden fell on the Grand Shaman, who presided over the Thousand Swords Formation. Her eyes were calm as still water, her lips pressed tightly together as her hands shifted through rapid seals, driving countless incantations into the sword of light in rapid succession. Thanks to her mastery, even after absorbing the thousand swords, the blade did not collapse; instead, it condensed into an ever more solid form. In the end, a jade-white spirit sword materialized in the air above them. Roughly three feet in length, it was translucent and pristine as fine jade, its blade densely covered in runes like a celestial sword from the heavens. "Go!" The Grand Shaman suddenly raised her hand and pointed toward the immortal formation. The spirit sword quivered slightly, then vanished in a flash, plunging directly into the gray wall of wind. After a brief hush, a horrific, formless shockwave abruptly erupted from within the wall. The cultivators felt as if a heavy hammer had struck their souls, and their escape lights wavered violently. The next instant, a familiar scene unfolded: the gray wind wall began shattering from within. Countless fissures burst outward in all directions, and within every crack, a sword of light seemed to shine, carving open a path for the cultivators. "Move!" The Grand Shaman and Lingzhuzi roared almost simultaneously. The Nascent Soul cultivators swiftly produced their respective jade talismans, darting through the gaps and vanishing into the wind wall in the blink of an eye. Qin Sang was just as quick. Having prepared well in advance, he raised his jade talisman, picked a fissure, and charged inside. Even before he entered, the talisman's power had already been triggered. This time, rather than a crimson barrier, a light akin to sword qi enveloped his body, cutting a path through the storm as the first shockwave slammed into him. Revisiting familiar ground, Qin Sang handled it with composure. Under the protection of the jade talisman, he weathered the immortal formation's onslaught, passed straight through, and descended from the sky, landing on the vast wasteland. The desolate plain stretched out endlessly. As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Qin Sang looked up to see figures breaking through the immortal formation and dropping from above, each landing in a different location. After a brief pause, they set off without delay, taking to their escape lights and scattering in all directions before disappearing into the deep mountains and dense forests. "Back again!" Qin Sang sighed with emotion. He glanced toward the Heaven Tower, then turned and flew straight toward the Purple Mist Deathland, resolved to claim the Nine Nether Demonic Fire first. Before long, he reached the ancient jungle that bordered the deathland. His memories of his first trip here with Xiang Yi remained fresh. Knowing the jungle crawled with ferocious insects and vicious beasts that were difficult to handle, he had prepared several medicinal powders and carried them on his person. Forming a hand seal, he concealed his presence, slipping into the forest to search for the Purple River. He moved with great care, unsure whether the Eastern Pole Alliance would send another team to activate that ancient divine platform and stir up more trouble. While Qin Sang raced toward the Purple Mist Deathland, deep within the mountain ranges, the Nascent Soul cultivators of both races flew in close proximity, heading straight for the Heaven Tower. At that moment, Old Devil Mou cast a sidelong glance in the direction of the Purple Mist Deathland, then scrutinized the Nascent Soul cultivators around him one by one, finding no suspicious signs. After a brief contemplation, he sent a voice transmission to the blood-robed old man beside him. The blood-robed elder was taken aback. "Old Devil Mou, you dare disobey the orders of Lingzhuzi and the Demon Lord? If you're tired of living, don't drag me down with you!" "Heh heh, Old Ghost Xue, do you think I don't know your secrets? You want to use the ancient restrictions of the Hall of Seven Kills to refine that wicked artifact to help you survive your next lightning tribulation, don't you? Your chances of success can't even be ten percent! Without that artifact, you won't last another century. Help me just this once, and I will go to Old Devil Wen and borrow his Tiangang Ring for you." Suppressing his inner urgency, Old Devil Mou laid out his terms. The blood-robed elder's expression shifted slightly, though he remained skeptical. "The Tiangang Ring is Old Devil Wen's most prized possession—he values it like his own life. You think you can borrow it just because you ask?" "Old Devil Wen owes me a massive favor. Borrowing the Tiangang Ring once is well within my reach! Its effects might not match your artifact, but it remains a rare and precious treasure, enough to win you a sliver of hope." Old Devil Mou spoke with utter confidence. "Besides, what I'm asking doesn't truly count as disobeying orders. As long as you give it your all, nothing will go wrong." The blood-robed elder was visibly swayed, his eyes flickering with calculation. "Fine! I'll trust you this once! But if you dare trick me, remember that I don't have many days left to live. I won't have anything left to hold me back, so you'd better watch out for your Tianfeng Island!"