The Scale

The smoke and dust dissipated. A shimmering rainbow light revealed the somewhat disheveled figure of Nine Phoenix King. She did not appear heavily wounded. Her gaze swept around, only to see lingering embers of blood-fire, each marking the passing of a life. After a long time, Nine Phoenix King turned and departed, leaving behind a barely audible sigh in the void. At that very moment, Qin Sang had been swept into a hurricane. His vision spun wildly, battered and disoriented as he struggled with all his might to break free of the tempest. He had no idea where the winds had carried him. During the siege on Nine Phoenix King, his Heavenly Eye divine ability had caught the odd change in her expression. Always decisive, Qin Sang had unhesitatingly abandoned his ebony sword to unleash his strongest technique, the Thunder Command Art. Sure enough, at the very instant he made that decision, Nine Phoenix King had blown into her jade flute, triggering a sudden catastrophe. Seeing the wretched fate of Yuan Zhu and the other demons, Qin Sang had realized that slaying Nine Phoenix King was out of the question. Unwilling to be buried alongside them, his mind had raced as he searched frantically for a way to escape. He had secretly circulated his true essence to make blood-fire erupt across the surface of his body, feigning that he, too, was under the influence of the jade flute. At the final juncture, Qin Sang had steeled his heart and leaped into a gray hurricane of his own accord. It was the only way of escape he could conceive, yet it was no different from drinking poison to quench a thirst. Within the storm belt, being sucked into a gray hurricane was peril itself. The hurricanes of the storm belt carried the immense might of heaven and earth. Their intrinsic destructive power was terrifying, far beyond any gale in the outside world. Even if one managed to survive inside and break out, there was no telling where one would end up. Once lost in the storm belt, only death awaited. Yet under those circumstances, Qin Sang had had no choice. If Nine Phoenix King captured him, even death would be a luxury. Diving into the hurricane offered at least a slim sliver of survival. To prevent Nine Phoenix King from seeing through his ruse, Qin Sang had secretly summoned the Red Yuan Gauze to conceal his aura and play dead. To his dismay, the gauze was even more fragile than anticipated, shattering scarcely a few breaths after being activated. Fortunately, before the Red Yuan Gauze broke apart, Qin Sang had successfully plunged into the core of a massive hurricane as colossal as a true dragon, promptly swallowing a drop of Three Lights Jade Liquid. The elixir was precious, but he had no choice but to take it. *Whoosh! Whoosh!* Qin Sang tumbled head over heels in the hurricane, utterly incapable of stabilizing his body. The surroundings were a uniform haze of gray; he could see nothing. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and his entire body felt as though it were tearing apart. Terrifying forces pressed in from all sides. Qin Sang had already roused his external incarnation; pressing tightly together, the two joined forces to withstand the brunt of the tempest. He had originally been prepared to sacrifice the rook to save the king, but thankfully, Nine Phoenix King had not pursued him, proving his deception had worked. Though very little time had elapsed since leaping into the hurricane, Qin Sang had completely lost all sense of where he was being carried. Anxiety gnawed at him like fire. He had to break out as quickly as possible. If he were swept into the depths of the storm belt and could not find his way back, he would be doomed—that was a perilous domain where even Nascent Soul Patriarchs would lose their way. The Three Lights Jade Liquid infused him with bountiful spiritual power, coursing through his meridians. Ordering his incarnation to bear the brunt of the pressure, Qin Sang focused entirely on refining the Three Lights Jade Liquid. The true essence in his body quickly swelled to fullness. Once his strength was restored, Qin Sang did not dare rest for a single moment, shifting his gaze rapidly in search of a weak point in the hurricane. With the ebony sword as their vanguard, Qin Sang and his incarnation joined forces, battling their way outward against severe resistance. The interior of the hurricane was utter chaos. Beset by the crushing pressures and buffeting forces of countless crosswinds, Qin Sang and his external incarnation barely managed to keep from being separated. Otherwise, they would have been blown thousands of li apart in an instant. The winds cut like knives. The armor formed by the Heavenly Corpse Coffin groaned and creaked, gouged with scratches by the void wind. Qin Sang channeled sword radiance to protect himself, yet wounds still racked his body, blood streaming down until he was soaked in crimson. "Break!" Qin Sang roared. The sword wheel reappeared. Tempered by the Sword Path, the power of the sword wheel was noticeably stronger than before he entered the Hall of Seven Kills, but against the dreadful force of the hurricane, it was still a drop in the ocean. At this moment, Bai emerged from the corpse puppet bag as well. In no position to complain to Qin Sang, he mustered what unrecovered corpse qi he had, forging it into a sharp spear to thrust forward. The two-headed hou also leaped out, shaking out cyan silhouettes. The three figures and one beast pressed tightly together, charging outward in unison with remarkable effectiveness. After pushing forward a considerable distance, another sudden mishap occurred. The blood sword wielded by the incarnation abruptly shattered. It had already been damaged by Qingzhu during their earlier clash, and under the crushing pressure of the hurricane, it could endure no longer. Seeing this, Qin Sang made a swift mental command. His incarnation grunted and detonated the blood sword. *Boom!* As the blood sword self-detonated, its fragments were instantly swept away by the tempest. Taking advantage of the blast, Qin Sang surged forward a great distance. He finally felt the pressure ease slightly, arriving at the fringe of the hurricane. The hurricane shifted unpredictably; the window of opportunity was fleeting. Spurning no cost to overdraw their true essence, the three figures and one beast charged with all their might. At last, brightness filled their vision as they broke out of the hurricane. *Smack!* A colossal wave crashed into them, sending the four tumbling far across the waters before they could finally steady themselves. Looking around, they were met with the same monotonous, apocalyptic expanse—virtually indistinguishable from what they had seen before. "You must be the reincarnation of a jinx! You must have committed monstrous sins in your past life!" Bai fumed, his finger practically poking into Qin Sang's face. Lacking the strength to argue further after overdrawing what little vitality he had recovered, he retreated back into the corpse puppet bag to meditate, leaving the mess for Qin Sang to clean up. Qin Sang smiled wryly, grumbling internally that it wasn't as if he had drawn all those Nascent Souls here himself. Yet, running into Nascent Soul cultivators so frequently made even him wonder if he had fallen under an unlucky star lately. The two-headed hou also returned inside the Primordial Concentric Rings to sleep. Qin Sang examined his own wounds and those of his incarnation. He himself was in decent shape, but the incarnation was heavily injured, so he had no choice but to send it back into the Heavenly Corpse Coffin as well. Afterward, Qin Sang gazed out over the boundless gale and colossal waves, looking lost. He had no idea where he was, unable to tell one direction from another. Wandering aimlessly, who knew how long it would take to find a way out? If he ran into some grave danger out here, his life would end right on the spot. Qin Sang hastily retrieved the jade talisman, only for his heart to turn cold. The jade talisman gave no response whatsoever, indicating that he was already very far from the Hall of Seven Kills. Had he been near it, he could have used the talisman to get his bearings. However, the Hall of Seven Kills was on the verge of closing. Once the Grand Shaman dismantled the spirit array, the talisman would lose its utility entirely. Thinking up to this point, Qin Sang did not dare linger for a moment longer. Picking a direction at random, he flew off, having to rely purely on luck. While searching for the Hall of Seven Kills, Qin Sang retrieved another object. It turned out to be an azure scale. It resembled a dragon scale, yet was only the size of an infant's palm. This was the item Yuan Zhu had secretly slipped to him before entering that cave dwelling, without ever explaining what it was for. Holding the scale, Qin Sang's eyes flickered. He recalled the scene he had witnessed in the final instant before diving into the hurricane. Yuan Zhu, Gu Heng, and Fairy Caiyi had not been spared. Engulfed in blood-fire, the sight had been horrific. Qin Sang had watched with his own eyes as a demonic beast, powerless to resist the winds, was torn to shreds. Under such circumstances, Yuan Zhu's chances of survival were practically zero. What use could this scale he had handed over still have?