Meanwhile, the clash between Zhang Qianmo and Song Hesong raged on.
One was at the late Foundation Establishment stage, while the other was at the mid Golden Core stage.
Although Zhang Qianmo stood at a lower realm, the cultivation technique he practiced was far more profound than Song Hesong's. Moreover, his magical artifacts were vastly superior. Consequently, the two fought on entirely equal terms for the moment.
And as Li Fan gradually gained the upper hand on his side, the tide seemed to be turning in favor of the two disciples from the Purple Cloud Sect.
"Brother Song, the situation looks bad!" one of the men besieging Li Fan yelled.
"Daoist Song, don't hesitate any longer! Activate the grand array at once!" Chu Liang shouted as well.
A flicker of hesitation crossed Song Hesong's face, quickly replaced by a savage scowl.
He threw himself backward in a sudden retreat. His blood-colored longsword transformed into a massive bell that dropped down and trapped Zhang Qianmo inside.
With madness gleaming in his eyes, Song Hesong slammed both hands down toward Ningyuan City below.
From within the city, cries of terror and agony rose instantly from the mortals. Li Fan watched as countless wisps of blood-colored malevolent qi, coalescing into near-solid form, surged skyward toward Song Hesong. Trapped within that crimson light were countless agonizingly twisted human faces.
Song Hesong grabbed this mass of gory essence and poured it into the blood-colored bell.
Wailing in torment, countless human faces rushed toward Zhang Qianmo.
Zhang Qianmo's expression changed. A shroud of purple qi rose around him in an attempt to block them, but to no avail. One bloody face after another surged into his mind. He froze on the spot, the expression on his face shifting uncontrollably—one moment contorted in agony, the next twisting into an eerie grin.
Seeing Zhang Qianmo temporarily trapped, Song Hesong turned his gaze toward Li Fan.
*Not good,* Li Fan thought.
Yet Chu Liang and his two companions pressed their attack with suicidal ferocity, pinning Li Fan down so he could not break away.
Song Hesong arrived in the blink of an eye.
One mid Golden Core cultivator and three late Foundation Establishment cultivators. Beset by their combined assault, Li Fan held out for only a few breaths before sustaining grave injuries.
*It seems my first foray into the Fallen Immortal Realm ends here.*
As his wounds worsened and his consciousness blurred, auditory hallucinations seemed to echo in his ears. Phantom murmurs and rustling whispers sounded sometimes hurried, sometimes gentle, like wails of grief and roars of fury, yet impossible to decipher clearly.
Moments later, Li Fan could no longer hold his ground.
Song Hesong's massive, blood-colored palm slammed brutally onto Li Fan's head.
*Crack!*
Li Fan's skull burst apart like a shattered melon.
With the body destroyed, Li Fan should have returned to the real world by all ordinary logic.
Yet...
He fell into an extraordinary state.
The core of his lingering divine sense acted like a black hole, slowly devouring the vessel known as Li Chen. None of Li Chen's residual memories were transferred—only a stream of pure divine sense energy was steadily absorbed by Li Fan.
The noise in his ears grew deafening. The gentle whispers turned into indescribable roars. Wrath, terror, sorrow, and a multitude of other negative emotions surged forth like a tsunami, determined to drown Li Fan whole.
Yet Li Fan's mind stood as immovable as coastal reef rock amidst the waves.
For what drove all this was precisely what he had diligently cultivated without pause from the moment he set foot on the immortal path: the Xuanhuang Heart-Refining Incantation.
Upon entering the Fallen Immortal Realm, the incantation had lain dormant without displaying any particular effect. But the moment the vessel of Li Chen was destroyed, it began to churn with frantic, spontaneous power, grinding the essence that formed Li Chen of the Purple Cloud Sect like a giant millstone. It refined that power into the purest nourishment, soothing and enriching Li Fan's mind.
Though Li Chen was dead, Li Fan's divine sense was steadily expanding.
A brand-new divine sense avatar belonging purely to Li Fan was gestating beneath Li Chen's headless corpse.
Li Fan remained as unruffled as an ancient, placid well, watching the surrounding "plot" unfold with cold detachment.
Song Hesong took the storage ring from Li Fan's hand and let the corpse plummet from the sky. He then turned his gaze toward Zhang Qianmo, who remained trapped within the blood-colored bell.
"What resilient willpower. To hold out this long under the All Living Beings Spirit-Refining Array fed by the blood sacrifice of tens of thousands," Song Hesong marveled.
"Unfortunately, the more remarkable you are, the more certain you must die today!"
Song Hesong struck several more palm thrusts toward Ningyuan City below. Crimson light composed of countless human faces surged once more toward Zhang Qianmo. The look upon Zhang Qianmo's face grew increasingly savage and grotesque. Several large tumors bulged on his forehead, writhing and shifting as though endowed with life.
*Squelch!*
One of the flesh tumors burst, blowing a gaping hole into Zhang Qianmo's head. As if triggered in a chain reaction, the remaining tumors on his head exploded one after another. Half of his head vanished.
By this point, the aura on Zhang Qianmo was like a candle flickering in the wind, liable to extinguish at any second. Yet an unknown power inside him somehow sustained his life force. Even with only a fragment of his skull remaining, he clung tenaciously to life.
"What is going on?" Chu Liang blurted out in shock.
"It seems this brat harbors quite a few major secrets," Song Hesong said, his expression grim. Glaring venomously at Zhang Qianmo, he sneered, "Even so, you are a turtle trapped in a jar. Do you honestly think you can overturn the heavens?!"
Streaks of red radiance erupted from the blood-colored bell, piercing through Zhang Qianmo's body. The red light flitted like crisscrossing blades, carving Zhang Qianmo into countless chunks of flesh in an instant.
"Reduced to this, let us see if you can still survive!" Song Hesong snorted coldly.
Chu Liang and the others breathed a sigh of relief. Yet before long, their faces gradually paled.
Because...
They realized that Zhang Qianmo's aura had still not dissipated!
"What madness is this?! What sorcery does he practice?!" Fear finally crept across Song Hesong's face.
"Fire! Use fire!" Chu Liang yelled at that moment.
Song Hesong formed a hand seal, conjuring a crimson ball of flame beneath the pile of shredded flesh. Under the searing heat, the flesh and blood crumbled to flying ash. Yet throughout the conflagration, a single object remained steadfast. No matter how fiercely the flames raged, they could not damage it in the slightest.
It was a purple Golden Core.
"A Golden Core? Isn't he in Foundation Establishment? How could a Golden Core form inside his body?" This sight clearly surpassed the understanding of Song Hesong and the others, leaving them utterly aghast.
Gripped by terror, Song Hesong unleashed every spell at his disposal against the purple Golden Core. But no matter what he did, he could not shake it in the least. Attempting to draw it into a storage ring proved equally futile, for the aura belonging to Zhang Qianmo still coiled upon it—burning brighter and more intensely with every passing moment.
"This is why rogue cultivators from unorthodox factions have no heritage and study no classics," Zhang Qianmo's cold voice echoed from the Golden Core. "Even if you learn some new method, you possess only the empty shell of a realm. How could you ever compare to the orthodox Daoist lineage of our Xuan sect?"
The Golden Core erupted with dazzling brilliance, forcing the flames back. A body gradually coalesced from the radiant glow, which then settled and formed into robes.
"I said it before: today, you shall die!" Zhang Qianmo said chillingly, glaring at Song Hesong.
Song Hesong began to tremble all over. He struck downward in rapid succession; amidst the shrieks of countless mortals, streaks of crimson light formed solid ribbons that rushed toward Zhang Qianmo. Meanwhile, paying no heed to the shivering Chu Liang and his companions, Song Hesong transformed into a streak of blood-red light and fled into the distance.
Zhang Qianmo took a step forward, transforming into purple lightning that overtook his quarry from behind, appearing right in front of the blood-red light. Caught off guard by such terrifying speed, Song Hesong could not evade in time and crashed head-on into him.
*Boom!*
Amidst the violent collision, Song Hesong appeared to lose all control over his body. Zhang Qianmo reached out with his right hand, seized Song Hesong by the throat, and hoisted him into the air.
"Treason against the sect warrants death!" Zhang Qianmo pronounced sentence.
A bolt of purple lightning descended from the heavens, striking down fiercely upon Zhang Qianmo. He stood unharmed amidst the thunderous brilliance, while Song Hesong, held in his grip, let out a wretched scream and perished on the spot.
Zhang Qianmo glanced toward Chu Liang and the other two fleeing in three separate directions. Sneering, he flicked his fingers lightly. Three bolts of purple lightning fell in response to his gesture. Their auras vanished, and three black specks dropped out of the sky.
Zhang Qianmo paid them no further mind.
"To think I would be pushed to such lengths... The new method..."
A pensive expression surfaced on his face. Then, as if sensing something, he flew down to the ground.
There, the corpse that had once belonged to his junior brother, Li Chen, had already melted like wax. Beneath the single remaining layer of skin, Zhang Qianmo discovered an entirely unfamiliar stranger steadily awakening.
Chapter 177