Chu Xianyun looked at the case on the pedestal, reached out, and pulled away the covering cloth.
The Wushengchong placed within was instantly exposed.
It was an insect shaped like a flower bud. Under his gaze, its body slowly unfurled, blooming into the semblance of petals. Once fully spread, the tips of the petals curled inward every now and then.
At the flower's center lay an absolute pitch-black void, completely empty, resembling a bottomless well without boundaries or end, as if it could swallow even light itself.
His eyes fixed upon that dark opening. The Wushengchong was the true crux of this ritual.
Only by harnessing the Wushengchong's predatory instincts could they firmly lock onto the individual targeted by the ritual's curse; otherwise, the entire rite would only take effect over a generalized area.
If it were merely that, Chen Chuan's acute senses would have warned him the instant before the rite was triggered, allowing him to flee before its power could manifest.
Now, however, through a series of deliberate guidances, the Wushengchong had firmly locked onto Chen Chuan's aura. Even if Chen Chuan tried to leave right now, he could not escape. As long as the ritual was initiated, its full force would inevitably descend upon him.
Yet had he been forewarned, he might have used certain relics and rituals to ward off and defend against it. This was why they had needed to force Chen Chuan into expending all his protective safeguards beforehand.
Fortunately, after clashing with Yuan Congye and the others, plus Shen Xian's earlier ambush, any such protective layers Chen Chuan possessed should have already been depleted.
It was only a pity that Yuan Zhao and Tie Rugan had failed to even close the distance with him, denying Chu Xianyun one final confirmation.
Still, it was far too late to pursue that.
Once the Zhuanlinghong was slain and its cloaking field vanished, their position would inevitably be exposed. At that point, given Chen Chuan's speed, Chu Xianyun might not even have the chance to activate it. He had no choice but to act immediately.
Steeled with grim resolve, he took another step forward and pressed his hand directly toward the well-like maw of the Wushengchong.
The Wushengchong's petals snapped shut violently, coiling tightly around his arm, and then swiftly swelled, spreading across his body like slithering serpents.
Simultaneously, a shimmering pattern of an esoteric ritual materialized beneath his feet, rising from the floor and spreading rapidly across his skin, corroding deep into his body.
Inevitably, the ritual and the petals converged into one.
Chu Xianyun stood motionless, completely relinquishing all self-defense and willingly allowing this power to ravage every trace of his mutated tissue. Though the mutated tissue resisted instinctively, under the supreme command of his conscious will, it could only submit to being consumed piece by piece.
Once he, the final sacrifice, died and confirmed the act with his conscious will, the entire rite would reach full activation, claiming Chen Chuan's life.
Moments later, wisps of vapor rose from his face. Every part of his frame cracked and crumbled continuously until, within just a few breaths, his entire being dissolved into a cloud of scattered mist and was swallowed whole by the Wushengchong.
Standing on the upper deck, Mi Zhuzi had been watching the scene unfold the entire time. Although he was tasked with ensuring the ritual's completion, his duty was not to conduct the rite itself; rather, if anyone hesitated or attempted to flee, he was to step in and eliminate them. The imperial court had decreed from the very start that not a single sacrifice could be spared.
Now that every offering had been cast in, there was no need for him to intervene.
He looked into the distant sky toward that massive burst of shimmering brilliance—the place where Chen Chuan stood.
He eagerly awaited the consequences this ritual would unleash.
If the rite truly succeeded, he believed that if the Former Imperial House managed to hold its ground, stabilize the situation, and stall until next year when the Great Impact arrived, they might truly avert the disaster of national ruin.
Meanwhile, behind the pass, Wen Mingzhong suddenly noticed something amiss. The creature depicted on the mural—the one with an oversized head and diminutive body—abruptly exhibited an anomaly.
It had originally faced toward the right, but now it had turned around completely to face the left.
This was exceedingly unusual, signaling that a pervasive field was influencing the entire region.
At first, he thought the enemy had found a way to unravel the anomaly, but upon closer inspection, he realized that was not it. Instead, a ritual of immense potency was taking shape.
Frowning, he immediately used his mental power to reach out to Mu Xiaoren.
The latter had kept a wisp of spirit nearby precisely to maintain communication with the rear, so when Wen Mingzhong attempted contact, he received an immediate reply.
"Mr. Wen, has something happened in the rear?"
"There is an issue in the area ahead. A ritual appears to be activating," Wen Mingzhong said gravely.
Although he could not yet deduce the ritual's exact function, its existence was unmistakable. The enemy would not make needless moves, and for the rite to be potent enough to disturb an anomaly proved that they were preparing something massive.
Mu Xiaoren had still been striving to breach the field before him. He had sensed an opening, but despite repeated attempts to resonate with it, nothing had worked.
He knew he had found the critical point, yet the force within actively repelled him.
He had intended to keep pushing with his methods, but now that Wen Mingzhong's warning revealed a far more severe situation, he had to stop and contact Chen Chuan.
On Chen Chuan's side, he had already used the Mystic Void Fire to successfully eliminate the Zhuanlinghong's core.
During this process, he had noticed crystalline fragments continuously scattering outward.
At the same time, the heat from his relic had soared to an extraordinary intensity.
Clearly, the remnants that even the Mystic Void Fire could not burn away were the precious materials left behind by the Zhuanlinghong.
He glanced at the debris drifting through the air; every floating crystal flew straight toward him and was drawn into his external implant.
At that very moment, the surrounding field began to dissolve and disperse, as though a thin curtain had been peeled away from the night sky.
The two airships previously masked by the field finally came into view.
Just then, Mu Xiaoren's warning resonated in Chen Chuan's mind.
Hearing it, Chen Chuan's eyes shifted slightly. In truth, he had already sensed a faint foreboding even before the message arrived.
Now he could be certain it was indeed some manner of ritual.
This was likely the Former Imperial House's final trump card in this clash.
Yet he felt that even if he retreated from this battlefield, he would probably still be unable to evade it.
His deduction was confirmed almost immediately.
A blinding blaze of light erupted from one of the airships across from him. The moment it flared, it resonated intensely with his presence.
The manifestation was unmistakable and utterly unmasked, proving that the ritual in motion had completed all its preparations and no longer feared discovery.
The instant the light flared, the warning bells in his heart spiked to their absolute peak, and his gaze deepened.
He did not bother with superfluous evasive maneuvers like pulling back. He was not completely ignorant of esoteric rituals; this resonance with his very being meant the ritual was aimed squarely at him, and so long as he lived, it would persist.
Thus, he simply stood motionless in midair. Behind him, the colossal external visage solidified instantly from an illusory silhouette, enveloping his entire body.
Beyond it, platinum spiritual flames flared outward, turning him into a shimmering star suspended in the night sky.
The next instant, that beam of light crossed the vast distance and struck him.
In a flash, the pitch-black sky seemed torn open along a fissure. From afar, it resembled a narrow, giant eye opening in the heavens, spilling forth a pale, ghastly light.
Even the garrison troops stationed far in the distance could see this spectacle, and cries of alarm broke out as they wondered what was happening.
The martial artists hurrying from the rear also witnessed the sight, floating into the air one after another to stare at the radiance.
For some reason, merely looking upon that light filled them with profound discomfort. Remembering that it lay toward Xianglan Pass—the battleground of both sides—a wave of deep apprehension arose in their hearts.
Closer to the scene, Jiang Linghuai and Mu Xiaoren were forced to shield their eyes with their hands and pull far back.
Faced with this radiance at close quarters, their minds and mutated tissues recoiled by pure instinct, driving them to retreat.
Chen Chuan, meanwhile, stood dead center within the brilliance.
Looking upward, he saw that the light resembled a flared morning glory, enclosing him completely.
This pale radiance possessed an immense stripping and depleting power. The dense, thick spiritual fire around his body vanished almost instantaneously, and under the light's corrosion, his external visage rapidly faded from solid to faint.
The process unfolded with incredible speed; it seemed that before long, it would shatter the external visage and fall directly onto his physical body.
Faced with such peril, his expression remained calm, for he sensed no higher-stratum power within this force.
In other words, the ritual was on the same level as him. Furthermore, judging by its effect, the power did not strike someone dead instantly; it operated in progressive stages.
Naturally, what might be instantaneous for anyone else might require a brief gradient against him. Yet as long as there was a progression, there was a way to counter it.
Fueling a ritual inevitably required energy. Its source had to be the vitality, mental force, or other reserves of beings and martial artists on the same level, which meant there was a finite limit to its reserve.
The strategy, then, was straightforward: so long as he maintained his core self and completely exhausted this force, he could endure it.
However, the interference from the opposing light severed his connection to the celestial layers above. This meant he could not draw mental replenishment from the world on the other side and had to rely entirely on his own inherent power to resist.
Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, the outer visage was completely obliterated by the light. Yet the moment it was destroyed, purple light flashed in his eyes. The purple qi mutated tissue within his body seemed to boil, and another external visage condensed into being once more.
Chapter 1411