Yin Creature

Amid Zhang Yuanqing's shout, a terrifying, potent yin-cold aura surged up from within Tianji Tower like a breath exhaled from the depths of hell, rapidly corrupting the majestic edifice. Positioned on the eighth floor, he took the brunt of the swelling, rampaging yin qi. In an instant, the lunar power within his body turned violent and slipped beyond control, just like the time he had been transfixed by the vertical eye on the Demon Eye Heavenly King's forehead. His skin began to pale, blood vessels spiderwebbed across his eyes, his rationality receded, and bloodthirsty brutality surfaced. Like the disciples throughout the tower, he was transforming into a yin corpse under the rampage of lunar power. The next instant, fierce and domineering solar divine power burst forth from his body, suppressing the yin qi and arresting the physical mutation. Zhang Yuanqing swiftly flew out of Tianji Tower, escaping into the open air. The entire Tianji Tower shook violently, resembling an edifice tottering on the brink of collapse during an earthquake. Every candle flame within flickered and morphed into eerie green ghost fire. The once brilliantly lit tower turned into a ghost tower amidst the night, casting an unnerving, pallid glow. Whether awake or asleep, Transcendent or Saint, every disciple inside succumbed to the corruption of that chilling aura and transformed into a yin creature. Their consciousness was wiped out in an instant. Beast-like guttural rattles escaped their throats, their reason vanished, and nothing remained but unadulterated savagery and bloodlust. "Fuck!" Zhang Yuanqing cursed under his breath. His deduction had been spot on. The Imperial Preceptor was indeed refining a yin corpse—no, he was trying to refine himself into a Level 9 yin creature. Judging from that brief encounter just now, the Imperial Preceptor was in a pseudo-Level 9 state, having surpassed the peak of Level 8 yet failing to truly ascend to Level 9. Having lost the bid for draconic qi, he had been left with no choice but to break seclusion prematurely. A whirring like helicopter blades buzzed through the air. Renowned for her speed, Bee Maiden Xiao Yuan arrived first. Though she had already advanced to Filthy Evil Spirit, she was still accustomed to traveling in her Gu body. The advantages of a Gu body did not disappear merely from ascending to Dominator. Right behind her, a streak of fire shot over and exploded outside Tianji Tower, revealing the dark-red-haired, burly Gang Master Duan. He was spattered with blood, nursing moderate injuries. The Dominator-level yin corpse he had fought had already been reduced to charred cinders in scorching flames. Last came the Palace Mistress in her crimson gown, gliding through the air like a skier upon a length of silk. The three Dominators stood shoulder to shoulder with Zhang Yuanqing, hovering in midair as they looked toward Tianji Tower from afar. The tall tower seemed bathed in a horror-film filter, radiating ghostly green light and oozing an eerie, sinister aura, as if an underworld citadel had manifested in the mortal realm. Zhang Yuanqing said in a solemn voice, "Just as I expected, the Imperial Preceptor refined himself into a yin creature to break through to the Grandmaster realm. Although I ruined his plan, he still has one foot in the Grandmaster realm." This explanation was primarily meant for Gang Master Duan. A rustic martial artist would never understand the concept of pseudo-Level 9, but a "half-step Grandmaster" was something he grasped instantly. Gang Master Duan was startled, but what astonished him even more was the emperor beside him. Looking him up and down, he asked in disbelief, "Everything Wang Beiwang said was true?" Wang Beiwang had told him that His Majesty possessed monstrous talent, incurring Heaven's jealousy such that his earth-shattering cultivation was sealed. Discouraged, he had supposedly indulged in wine and women, whiling away his days in decadence. Neither Gang Master Duan nor Elder Xu had believed a single word, writing it off as Zhao Shun's demagogic deceit. History was full of similar ploys; ambitious warlords frequently concocted outlandish legends before rising in rebellion to awe the masses, such as slaying a white serpent or crowning themselves Heavenly Masters. Who would have guessed Zhao Shun had spoken the truth? With the undeniable reality of his stepping into the Master realm right before his eyes, Duan had no choice but to believe it. "A sovereign never speaks in jest!" Zhang Yuanqing stood with his hands behind his back. "Since antiquity, emperors have styled themselves Sons of Heaven. Only I am the Sovereign of Men, feared by Heaven itself." Gang Master Duan was profoundly shaken. He then looked toward Xiao Yuan and the Palace Mistress, bewildered. "Are you two Sovereigns of Men as well?!" Xiao Yuan and the Palace Mistress still possessed a sense of shame and kept silent. Just then, a chill struck all four hearts—the distinct sensation of being watched by a terrifying entity. Hairs stood on end, and a cold shudder ran down their spines. From within Tianji Tower, flickering with ghostly flames, a wave of deep darkness suddenly surged out. In an instant, everything before Zhang Yuanqing and the others plunged into pitch darkness and dead silence. Not a sound could be heard, and even the stars in the night sky vanished. Zhang Yuanqing had encountered something similar before—during his trip to the Capital City, when Ling Tuo dragged him into a domain of concealment. Without hesitation, he activated the Sunrise skill, condensing solar divine power above his head into a miniature, compressed sun. Golden brilliance shattered the darkness, banishing the domain of concealment and restoring the real world. At the same time, the Palace Mistress's urgent cry rang in his ear: "Your Majesty, watch your back!" A tall, burly silhouette materialized behind him, dark-glistening claws thrusting toward his heart from behind. Zhang Yuanqing swiftly opened his inventory, pulling out the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon and the Purple Thunder Shield. Having no time to equip the Artisan's Ring, the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon transformed into dragon form only to plummet straight into the street below, letting out ear-splitting snores. The Purple Thunder Shield faced the ghostly claw strike all on its own. With a grating screech of twisting metal, the black-gleaming claws punctured the Purple Thunder Shield and tore into Zhang Yuanqing's chest and abdomen. Seizing the brief respite granted by the item, Zhang Yuanqing condensed a golden longsword in his right hand and thrust it backward into the tall figure's chest. Only then did he get a clear look at the tall shadow's true appearance. It was a yin creature clad in Daoist robes. Upon its head of disheveled, straw-like white hair crouched a Pixiu that looked like carved black jade. Its skin was deep black and keratinized, its two eyes emerald-green, and bone-white fangs jutted from its lips. Around it hung a fog-like, viscous shroud of yin qi. When the golden blade stabbed into its chest, it hissed violently like a red-hot branding iron plunged into molten metal, sending up billowing plumes of illusory black smoke. Meanwhile, frost spread across Zhang Yuanqing's chest as yin qi invaded his body, freezing his vitality. "Zhao Shun, you ruined my grand design and forced me out of seclusion early, dashing my hopes of reaching the Grandmaster realm. Today, your life and the lives of every living soul in this city shall pay the debt," the Imperial Preceptor spoke human words. His voice was no longer ethereal and majestic, but raspy, as if choked with phlegm. "Awoo—" The Five-Clawed Golden Dragon was finally roused by its master. Soaring upward with sinuous vigor, its neck swelled, and it spewed a torrent of Pure Yang Flame toward the two of them. The black jade Pixiu atop the Imperial Preceptor's head opened its mouth. Air currents swirled, and the fierce, domineering Yang Flame was instantly sucked into the Pixiu's maw. A dark-gold radiance lit up inside the Pixiu's belly, threatening to swell, but the next second it was refined into nothingness. The dragon's large eyes bugged out, seemingly stunned. Bang! Zhang Yuanqing kicked the Imperial Preceptor square in the chest, kicking him away along with the claws lodged in his flesh. He immediately switched to mount mode, rode the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon, and fled toward the outskirts, shouting, "Follow me!" As he spoke, he condensed solar divine power into a longbow and shot two arrows in rapid succession, both striking the Imperial Preceptor right in the chest. Xiao Yuan, the Palace Mistress, and Gang Master Duan understood his intent and sped after him toward the outskirts. A battlefield of Dominators could not take place in the inner city; too many ordinary people would be caught in the crossfire. The battle had only just begun, and neither side had gone all out yet. Once bloodlust took over, no one would be able to spare a thought for the populace. Even though most lives in a dungeon would refresh eventually, if the imperial capital collapsed now, what would happen to the subsequent quests? Hovering motionless in midair, the Imperial Preceptor let out a raspy, horrific threat: "Zhao Shun, if you dare flee, I will turn the capital into a ghost city." Zhang Yuanqing clicked his tongue, retrieved the Companion Spirit Moon, and called out, "Old dog, I have a supreme treasure that can help you reach the Grandmaster realm! Come take it if you have the guts!" The Imperial Preceptor's emerald eyes narrowed, gleaming with greed. An instinctual yearning welled up for the supreme treasure in Zhao Shun's hand. No yin creature could resist an accessory born of the Lunar Origin. He dissolved into black smoke, pursuing them with deceptive speed. The chase quickly brought them beyond the city, heading south until the outline of the city walls vanished past the horizon. Only then did Zhang Yuanqing halt and look back, discovering that the Imperial Preceptor was nowhere to be seen. He opened his inventory, summoned the Gale Gloves, and felt the surrounding air currents. While Night Roaming could mask presence and sound, it did not make the physical body vanish. Yet Zhang Yuanqing detected nothing from the airflow. A concealment superior to Night Roaming? Without hesitation, he activated Sunrise. The miniature sun rose, brilliant golden rays piercing the dark and illuminating the monstrosity hidden within. The two-meter-tall yin creature materialized less than ten meters from Zhang Yuanqing. Under the blazing sun, the yin qi on the Imperial Preceptor rapidly receded, but the next second, waves upon waves of denser yin qi surged out, holding its ground against the golden light. The level difference was too vast; even the domineering Sunrise could not banish the yin qi. At that moment, the black jade Pixiu atop the Imperial Preceptor's head puffed out its belly and opened a black-hole-like mouth. The golden light between heaven and earth dimmed, and Zhang Yuanqing felt his solar divine power draining away rapidly, swallowed whole into the Pixiu's stomach. Thick yin qi seized the opening and rushed in, threatening to swallow him up. In the distance, the Palace Mistress's skirt fluttered as thousands of silk ribbons shot out, lunging toward the Imperial Preceptor like grasping claws. On the other side, Xiao Yuan wiped her hands across the air, conjuring an ethereal altar table. Bright red candles burned on the table, which held talisman papers, a straw doll, silver needles, copper coins, incense ash, and other ritual implements. She seized the straw doll, chanting under her breath. The doll's face twisted, turning into a pitch-black yin creature with withered white hair—a miniature spitting image of the Imperial Preceptor. Xiao Yuan scooped up incense ash with her thumb and smeared it across the straw doll's face. Far away, a viscous black liquid oozed over the Imperial Preceptor's head, reeking of filth and malice. His entire body froze like a malfunctioning machine. The red strings seized the moment to coil around him, wrapping him tightly like a bundled dumpling. Gang Master Duan sprinted through the air engulfed in roaring flames, like a falling meteor. Closing the distance in a flash, his right palm hissed as fire erupted, condensing into a nearly tangible flaming blade. It was also a Flame Blade, but wielded by a Dominator-level Fire Master, it seemed capable of cleaving heaven and earth. The radiant heat scorched Zhang Yuanqing's cheeks even from afar, prompting him to immediately cancel Sunrise so as not to hinder his ally. Gang Master Duan leapt, spinning his body to swing the massive blade fiercely toward the yin creature's skull. The Pixiu atop the Imperial Preceptor's head swelled its belly again and opened its gaping black mouth. The flame blade in Gang Master Duan's grip instantly shattered into streaks of red light, drawn into the Pixiu's mouth. Even the filthy spiritual energy coating the Imperial Preceptor was sucked away. With a violent flex of the Imperial Preceptor's arms, the red strings shattered inch by inch, and his dark-glistening claws slashed upward. Gang Master Duan's right arm was severed clean at the shoulder! Enduring the excruciating agony, he struck back with his remaining fist. Bang, bang! The Reckless Fire God was knocked flying backward, his chest caved in and his belly torn open by the claws, intestines hanging loose. A Fire Master specializing in melee combat was routed in an instant. At that moment, the severed red strings seemed to rewind through time, restoring themselves. Instead of attacking the Imperial Preceptor, they wrapped around Duan's severed arm like tentacles. In a flash of red light, Gang Master Duan suddenly felt his connection to the severed limb return, as though it were still attached to his body. An Arbiter of Fate's Rebirth skill! It could grant tangible matter a second life. Duan's eyes turned ferocious, and he detonated the fire spiritual energy inside that severed arm. Boom! The deafening blast of billowing flames engulfed the Imperial Preceptor. The Pixiu's belly puffed out once more, and it opened its mouth, swallowing the burgeoning firestorm down to the last spark. Seeing this, not only Gang Master Duan, but even Zhang Yuanqing and the other two felt a wave of demoralization. The miniature sun rose once more, generating a domain that repelled all spiritual power to prevent the Imperial Preceptor from launching another stealth attack. Retreating to his companions, Zhang Yuanqing said grimly, "We have to deal with that Pixiu on his head first, or this fight is unwinnable." Although he still had plenty of items and sets unused, unless they neutralized the Pixiu, those items would be of limited use. The Palace Mistress took out the Demon Refining Pot, caressing its surface as she poured concentrated Life Source Fluid over Gang Master Duan to heal his injuries. Gang Master Duan rumbled, "That Pixiu is a magic treasure capable of refinement. It can easily refine and consume any spiritual energy." Huh? Zhang Yuanqing didn't follow. The Palace Mistress whispered, "Earth Monster class, a Dominator-level skill—also known as Decomposition." Earth Monster class? No wonder it's so troublesome. Zhang Yuanqing hurriedly asked, "How do we counter it?" He knew quite a few Dominator-level Earth Monsters, but he had never fought one. Even as they spoke, the Imperial Preceptor surged forward again, churning with yin qi. With his half-step Grandmaster cultivation, he could easily slaughter these Master-level opponents in direct combat without even resorting to Night Roaming ambushes. The four fled rapidly, the Palace Mistress speaking at rapid-fire speed: "Snatch it." "Stop joking," Zhang Yuanqing rejected immediately. The Imperial Preceptor was already pseudo-Level 9 and possessed a Pixiu that swallowed spiritual energy. Even Gang Master Duan couldn't last three moves against him—how were they supposed to snatch it? Besides, the Pixiu was clearly a sentient item, not an inanimate object; snatching it wouldn't be easy. "What else can we do?" the Palace Mistress retorted testily. "I'm not a Scholar. If Xiahou Aotian were here, he might have come up with a countermeasure." A thought struck Zhang Yuanqing. An idea came to him, and he swiftly opened the faction storehouse, pulling out a pair of black-framed glasses.