Purging Defilement Today

When Drakholm, Irose, Merton, and the others saw Field obliterated in an instant by the Mystic Void Fire, their hearts lurched violently. They were seeing that fire once again, yet they had never expected it to manifest upon Chen Chuan's spirit visage this time. At that moment, a sudden thought struck them: even Field had returned, yet Crossal and Igor, who had fallen earlier, had not come back. If there was any difference, it was that the latter two had previously encountered this flame, whereas Field had not. Could it be—? The moment that most probable answer crossed their minds, an icy chill gripped them to the bone. Because Throne martial artists possessed formidable existential intensity, even if only a scrap of physical tissue remained, given a bit of time, they could reconstitute themselves completely. But if this mystical, unfathomable flame could utterly erase their very existence, then it posed an unspeakable threat to them. Chen Chuan knew full well that once the function of the Mystic Void Fire was revealed, most Dongxuan View martial artists outside his faction would likely view him as an enemy—or even yearn to see him dead—and even those who were relatively friendly would probably be extremely wary of him. This was likely why Mr. Zhuan had instructed him not to reveal it back then. But by now, he had no need to worry about such things anymore. By this point, Irose and the others had completely lost the will to fight. Without the Mystic Void Fire, it wouldn't have been so bad; at worst, they could simply reconstitute and return. But the emergence of the Mystic Void Fire shattered their mental defenses. Once tainted by it, they truly faced total erasure. Knowing full well that continuing the battle meant certain death, it was far better to attempt a retreat. As for whether they could escape, they had their own reasoning. Chen Chuan's primary goal was surely to allow the Celestial Master of the Tianji Sect to return, and in that regard, it was obvious that Ming was the greatest hindrance. So as long as they chose to retreat directly, or even withdraw beyond the borders of Weishu State in good time, what reason would Chen Chuan have to pursue them relentlessly? Yet a retreat required strategy; it all depended on what Chen Chuan planned to do next. Drakholm's thoughts, however, differed from those of Irose and the rest. His gaze fixed upon Chen Chuan, and after drawing a deep breath, he let out a low shout and charged forward, astonishingly launching another attack against Chen Chuan. It was not that he did not want to flee; rather, he had been the one striking at Chen Chuan with the greatest ferocity just moments ago. Putting himself in Chen Chuan's shoes, he would never have let such an opponent go. Moreover, given Chen Chuan's current speed, even if he wanted to flee, would he even be able to? Rather than putting on an unsightly display, it was better to stake everything on a gamble. Chen Chuan saw him coming. In his eyes, Drakholm's movements appeared exceedingly slow. He even had the leisure to glance to his left and right, noticing that Irose and Merton were flying off to either side. Not long after Drakholm began his charge, he felt himself plunge into an invisible force field. His speed abruptly plummeted, and the resolute momentum he had mustered at the start weakened substantially as a result. Yet he still gritted his teeth and pressed forward, employing an explosive technique. The dark gray spiritual fire around him erupted violently outward, making him resemble a blazing furnace as still more power surged from within his body, propelling him ahead. Seeing this, Irose and Merton knew their opportunity had arrived. They immediately leaped into the air, each transforming into a streak of light that shot away in different directions. Watching this from above, Ming's avatar sneered and said nothing, merely fixing his eyes upon Drakholm. Following his burst of power, Drakholm successfully broke through the surrounding obstruction, pressing forward at a speed no slower than when he had started, until with a deafening boom he crashed into the spiritual fire enshrouding the perimeter of the spirit visage's body. Yet after penetrating only a few meters, he felt himself mired. He tried to push forward again, blue veins bulging violently around his eyes, yet he could not advance even a single step deeper. Meanwhile, surrounded by the white-gold spiritual flame, the spiritual fire around his body was rapidly eroding and disintegrating. It looked as though it would disperse completely within a matter of breaths. He looked up then, peering through the illusory, ethereal spirit visage toward the figure within. That pair of eyes seemed to gaze upon him with utter calm. With a loud shout, he leaped backward, while dark gray spiritual fire scattered into fragments. His entire form divided into dozens of glowing points that shot outward in all directions. At the final moment, he had given up completely. If he could not even breach the spiritual fire on the surface of the spirit visage, how could he possibly fight?! And only now did it dawn on him: he had clearly intended to flee just moments ago, so why had he thought to stay? Within his consciousness, the silhouette of Ming flashed and vanished. In that split second, it seemed he understood something. Yet before those points of light could fly halfway, an invisible force seized them, dragging them to a sudden crawl. The spirit visage spread its palm toward the direction of his retreat. The scattered bodily tissues were pulled backward, converging near the center of its palm, until they formed a forcibly compressed sphere of dark gray light. The spirit visage's giant hand clamped down violently, crushing it within its palm with a resounding boom, sending wisps of spiritual fire leaking between its fingers. Then its fingers loosened, allowing the shattered flesh and tissue to fall. Above, a streak of Mystic Void Fire descended from behind the spirit visage, showering over the scraps of flesh. Instantly, the remains blazed furiously, turning into drifting specks of light that fell to the earth and shattered, blanketing the ground ahead in scattering sparks. Chen Chuan paid this no further attention, instead looking up toward the direction in which Merton was fleeing. He raised his palm, and the spirit visage lifted its hand in unison. A beam of light shot out with a roar. Then Chen Chuan turned his body, swinging his arm backward, sweeping the beam in a wide arc across the horizon. This attack came too fast and too suddenly. In the blink of an eye, it overtook Irose and Merton along its trajectory. Moreover, the radius of this spiritual impact was immense; though they evaded as best they could, more than half of their bodies exploded in an instant, and their remaining forms plummeted toward the ground. The afterglow of that brilliance lingered without fading, slicing through the smoke and dust drifting on the periphery and carving a long scar across the canopy of heaven, as though the sky itself had been cleaved in two. On Merton's side, his body constantly regenerated as he fell. The scattered flesh and tissue flew swiftly back to piece him together, restoring him fully before he even hit the ground. At this moment, he had no desire to linger for a second. The spiritual light around him pulsed as he skimmed low over the ground at breakneck speed, desperate to put distance between himself and this place. Yet this time, before he had traveled far, Chen Chuan's figure suddenly appeared hovering in front of him. What?! Terror seized his heart, and he frantically swerved aside. Chen Chuan watched the streak of light veer away. He raised his fist, and his body abruptly flashed, vanishing from where he stood. When he reappeared, he was already hovering directly above Merton. His fist hammered down with brutal force. With a thunderous crash, Merton was slammed into the earth. A shockwave rippled outward in all directions, and the body he had just repaired burst apart once more. Yet these fragmented pieces of tissue abruptly dissolved into billows of black mist. In desperation, he was forced to invoke a taboo secret method—one that fused himself with the being worshipped by the Primitive Cult, thereby borrowing even greater power from it. Normally, this technique could only be sustained for a few minutes and demanded sufficient sacrifices afterward. Otherwise, it would very likely cause him to lose his sense of self, while that entity would gain a vessel—a bargain acknowledged by both sides. In truth, even if sacrifices were made, the defilement could never be cleansed, and one would become hopelessly addicted to using the secret art again and again. Because he understood its true nature, he had never once employed it. But at this juncture, he could no longer afford to care. After witnessing Chen Chuan's terrifying display, he did not hesitate in the slightest, immediately calling upon that being in his heart. Because the Primitive Cult's fissure was still right there—or perhaps because the entity on the other side had long yearned to do so—the very instant the thought crossed his mind, the entity answered him, eager to fuse into one with him. The black mist writhed and surged violently. In practically an instant, it condensed into a solid form; aberrant tissues even sprouted from within, completely subsuming his own Visage of the Divine into the transformation. Within the pit cratered by the strike, a massive monstrosity could be seen crouching. The thing appeared to be cobbled together from countless severed remnants, its entire body covered in irregularly growing limbs that incessantly divided and coalesced. From the seams where it was joined, black vapors constantly wafted, making it impossible to distinguish head from tail. Hovering high above, Chen Chuan sensed the immense power surging from the fissure, his gaze sharpening with intense focus. He reached out, drew his life-bound weapon, transformed it in an instant into a long mace, and flung it into the air above. Above his head, the spirit visage manifested around him once more. A colossal hand caught the mace in midair. Its golden armor vibrated with a sharp tremor, and grasping the haft with both hands, it raised the weapon high overhead. For an instant, brilliant golden light blazed and jade ribbons fluttered; then, after a brief pause, it brought the weapon smashing down with immense force! Demon-Subduing Form! As the blow landed, it slammed directly into the monster's head. The area resembling a head, which had just begun to lift, shattered instantaneously, while the rest of its body fractured and broke apart under the devastating discharge of leftover force. The dispersing wisps of smoke suddenly turned into countless faces bearing distinct expressions, flying wildly in all directions. Yet as the spirit visage brought down the mace, the Mystic Void Fire upon the radiant wheel behind its back was shaken loose, raining down as clusters of flame. The moment they brushed against those fleeting faces, the fire ignited them furiously, unleashing an agonizing chorus of wretched screams. Some of them darted at blinding speed toward the fissure, but before they could enter, they dissolved into plumes of ash in midair. Chen Chuan cast a glance at the drifting ash, turned with his saber in hand, and plunged into a fissure once more. Flashes of fissure light flickered across the heavens, and in the blink of an eye, he stepped out at the far end of the sky, his eyes fixed on the streak of light flying toward him.