Li Qinghong was bathed in churning snow-white light. Within her snow pool, waves surged, and in her sea of qi, the Perilous Sparrow of the Vast Sky sparkled, releasing streams of reddish-purple qi that poured into her immortal foundation. She had originally been fighting demonic cultivators alongside the other cultivators, pressing all the way into the hinterlands and locked in fierce combat against a guest elder demonic cultivator of the Murong clan. But a glance from the corner of her eye had caught the flash of rainbow light.
Li Qinghong had long since received Li Xizhi's letter and knew that he had taken three Huiqiu Pills in succession, his severe injuries yet unhealed. Seeing this rainbow light naturally filled her with urgency. Her opponent before her was stubborn and difficult, so she made up her mind at once.
Switching her offensive, she fought with desperate abandon, enduring injuries of her own to batter the enemy until he fled in a streak of bloody light. Then, activating the Sparrow Cyan Plumes feather robe upon her body, she cloaked herself in streaming cyan light and rode the thunder without pause straight toward the signal.
The streaming cyan light was the inherent effect of this Wanling Sect feather robe, and combined with the innate swiftness of her lightning, she caught the two demonic cultivators completely off guard.
"Qiu Ji."
Years ago, when the Xiao clan market was sacked, Qiu Ji had brutally wounded Li Xuanxuan in the market, severely damaging his vitality, and had slaughtered Li Qinghong's younger cousin—Li Xuanling's only son, Li Yuanyun—leaving not even bones behind to be recovered.
Later, he had raided the Li family and murdered her great-uncle Tian Youdao. Though Li Qinghong rarely spoke of it, the hatred in her heart had never faded. Whenever she remembered, she only felt that in the vastness of heaven and earth, she might never have another chance for vengeance.
"You dare come harm my family again?!"
Now, old grievances and new hatred surged together. Li Qinghong erupted in violet radiance, dense thunderous force rushing into her palm to melt away Qiu Ji's skull. As the demonic cultivator shrieked in bone-tearing agony, Li Qinghong snarled in fury:
"Back then, you used your demonic wind to dissolve my brother's flesh. Today, I return it in full!"
Blinding white thunder poured forth, and Qiu Ji's silhouette melted away amid the thrashing white vapors. Thunder was supreme in purging evil and vanquishing demons; this streak of violet lightning forced him to savor the agony of ten thousand lightning bolts piercing his being, dissolving his flesh and soul together until not a trace remained.
Immobilized and forced to endure the cascading thunder, dissipating from head to toe down to the very soul—even Shakya cultivators renowned for escaping through rebirth would perish instantly. Once the white smoke cleared, not even a True Monarch could bring him back to life.
"Fellow Daoist, wait! Please, wait! I have nothing to do with that man! There is no need to ruin my century of cultivation!"
The only answer Demon Ge received was from the artifact in the hands of the woman in the long-feathered robe. The violet flask soared aloft, spewing several bolts of lightning that crashed down upon his demonic jar. Li Qinghong had recently obtained this feather robe, elevating her battle prowess to another level. With the talisman qi bolstering her and lightning flowing around her, how could she let him be? Her spear flicked out a blur of thunderous shadows, thrusting straight toward his chest!
That artifact was bound to his mind and spirit; Demon Ge immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood. Having borne the brunt of the thunder in his stead, the purplish-black demonic jar hissed with rising white smoke, losing at least three to five years of refined nurturing.
Demon Ge fled several li away, the several blood pills beneath his skin detonating one after another, gradually restoring his original speed. He finally managed to scramble out of the reach of that bizarre Fu Water artifact, his racing heart only then beginning to steady.
"Were the timing not so dire and forbidding a prolonged chase, I would have tormented him thoroughly to truly take my revenge."
Having slain one foe and driven off the other, the Perilous Sparrow of the Vast Sky within Li Qinghong's body stirred restlessly. Her mantle of violet-cyan light had originally been the harmony between the lightning glow and the Sparrow Cyan Plumes; now the lightning burned denser, and the violet turned increasingly vivid.
Glancing back once, she transformed anew into a violet-cyan beam of light, vanishing on the spot and leaving behind only the rumble of thunder echoing through the clouds.
The lightning flashed once more. Li Xizhi watched the flickering violet light in the clouds and finally relaxed, only to immediately feel a tightness in his chest and shortness of breath. Li Quantao asked blankly:
"Was that... Senior Qinghong?"
A smile surfaced on Li Xizhi's face as he shook his head. "First, Aunt's strength has grown yet again. Second, she is likely wounded herself, which triggered the Perilous Sparrow of the Vast Sky..."
"Lightning arts truly are supreme at purging evil and slaying demons, and Senior's strength is formidable indeed. As her junior, I am truly filled with admiration."
Li Xizhi felt just as shaken inwardly. Qiu Ji was by no means weak—he was stronger than many clan Foundation Establishment cultivators. Had Li Xizhi not been heavily injured, he could have defeated the demonic cultivator, but killing him would have been exceedingly difficult.
The Perilous Sparrow of the Vast Sky was a talisman qi specifically dedicated to combat. Li Xizhi did not believe Demon Ge could escape her, yet he worried about Li Qinghong's injuries.
As the two took a moment to regulate their breathing, the old Daoist Yu Yuwei also drew near. After a brief wait, the group saw the violet light sweep back. Li Qinghong appeared with a solemn expression, holding a heavily cracked demonic jar in one hand while dense violet light in her other hand steadily refined a white orb. Traces of fresh blood stained the corners of her lips, and only upon seeing them did she breathe a sigh of relief.
Though Li Qinghong had the advantage of lightning arts and a surprise attack, striking down such an opponent in mere exchanges with all her might was still a frightening feat. In Li Xizhi's heart, joy mingled with concern.
None of them were in good condition and dared not linger here. Hastily riding the wind in the wake of the violet light, they retreated several li, while in their wake several streaks of demonic light were already in pursuit.
Li Qinghong had likewise sensed the broader situation. Tang Shedu and Li Xuanfeng had led forces from the east and south respectively, yet the eastern front on their side had suffered continuous casualties and was already verging on collapse. Flying dozens of li without encountering a single ally, she had dared not tarry, choosing to brave injury just to finish off her foe swiftly.
The three demonic cultivators confronting Yu Yuwei were not of the caliber of Qiu Ji or Demon Ge; they were merely ordinary Foundation Establishment demonic cultivators spawned by blood scriptures, and should never have pinned the old man down so completely. Just now, a single burst of lightning from Li Qinghong had immediately frightened off those demons, which made Li Qinghong even more suspicious of their true strength, and her heart sank.
*Why are there so many demonic cultivators? Why are none of our reinforcements in sight?*
*How bad are Li Xizhi's injuries really? When he fought against Tuoba Chongyuan, his strength was formidable, but just now something seemed off...*
*The disparity between friend and foe is far too great. Over these dozens of li, there has been only demonic qi and no immortal light. The cultivators leading each unit are not weak, so it shouldn't have turned out like this... It seems more demonic reinforcements have arrived.*
Pausing for a moment, she said in a low voice:
"Let us fall back to the south first. There are fewer demonic cultivators there."
The others nodded in agreement. Li Xizhi remained calm and composed, showing no outward disturbance.
Before the old man could voice his doubts, a resonant demonic voice boomed right after, hoarse and frantic, laced with piercing murderous intent:
"Qinghong went to Tang Shedu's sector!"
Before the group could say anything more, a rumbling echoed across the sky as golden light flashed and a demonic voice snarled sharply...
***
Meanwhile, on another battlefield, Li Xuanfeng drew his bow once more. The golden bowstring hummed, saturated with fierce brilliance. He narrowed his eyes slightly; in the distance, the demonic cultivator of the Murong clan was clutching his belly, disgorging a sky full of white vapor.
The golden bow paused in midair for only an instant before streaks of light surfaced across his body. The demonic and bloody light before the Murong demon suddenly froze, and a crisp clink sounded from his chest. The fiend let out a deafening, explosive roar:
"Damn it!"
"He's aiming for my right arm!"
Had his master not bestowed the spiritual artifact Xuantian Ting, allowing him to divine the landing point of the mystic arrows...
*Damn it, just wait a little longer...*
In an instant, his right arm dissipated into white clouds, while the golden radiance had already pierced several li behind him.
The Murong demon cried out in agony, his face dark with both relief and fury. "No wonder Murong Wu died! This man's archery is simply unbelievable! The artifact in his hands and the spirit robe on his body are formidable, and the Xuantian Ting warned that he possesses innate divine strength with apertures in his palms—a rare sight indeed..."
The mystic-runed arrow slowly accumulated two layers of gold: one brighter and sharper, the other darker and heavier. The two golden lights intertwined and leapt, converging upon the arrow as a continuous humming arose. The demon before him visibly slowed by a beat.
Though hatred raged in his heart, the demonic cultivator had to acknowledge the man's power. He seemed to have ingested some medicinal pill or cast some secret technique, imbuing the arrows with two types of magical power: one peerlessly sharp, the other eroding and crushing, exceedingly troublesome to deal with.
The Murong clan possessed many lineages. What this demon practiced was clearly distinct from Murong Wu; instead, it was closer to Maha Murong Xia—his body was like a clump of cobbled-together mud, scattering and recombining at will.
And there was no telling how much was stuffed inside his belly: beyond the white vapor, there were scattered artifacts of every description, and occasionally white clouds shaped like human figures leaped out into the sky.
Though his body could reform at any moment, Li Xuanfeng's golden arrows were not something that could be dodged casually. Whenever one struck home, it immediately wrung miserable wails from him as the golden gang wrestled across his surface, shearing away swaths of demonic qi.
Li Xuanfeng slowly drew the golden bow to a full circle, a grave look creeping into his eyes. His visage was already fierce, and his gray eyes, brimming with ruthless hostility, inspired even deeper dread.
At his waist, the golden arrows jumped back and forth. Most were of dazzling, eye-catching gold, inscribed with brilliant white runes; only a single arrow rested quietly to the side, displaying two colors of gold and red, more slender and graceful than the rest.
This golden-red mystic arrow had been tempered years ago in the grotto-heaven using the Combined Fire of the Three Artisans, drawn in by the Purple Mansion spiritual artifact Halting Warfare, and catalyzed by sheer chance during the duel between two top-tier Foundation Establishment figures. It was exceptionally lethal—a trump card hidden at the bottom of his chest—so he naturally would not expend it lightly, drawing out only an ordinary golden arrow instead.
Brilliant golden light gathered, and the demon before him once again felt a piercing pain between his brows. Hatred choked in his chest like an unbearable blockage as he circulated his magical power once more.
*Buzz...*
"The Xuantian Ting is chiming! This man has grown suspicious! Eliminate him immediately!"
Fighting up to this point, Li Xuanfeng felt something was amiss. The three of them had exchanged blows for nearly a hundred rounds, and the demon's body was already more than half destroyed. Though his cries were pitiful, he showed no intention of retreating.
*What is he waiting for...?*
As Li Xuanfeng's suspicions deepened, his narrowed eyes cast a cold glance toward Tang Shedu. If not for this fellow being constantly on guard against him from start to finish, holding back with bound hands and feet, unwilling to unleash his full might against the demon opposite them, how could this fiend have lasted until now?
Masters were inherently skilled at toying with human hearts. Tang Shedu held back out of wariness—how could the demon opposite fail to see it? He deliberately refrained from attacking Tang Shedu with all his might, targeting Li Xuanfeng at every turn while staying vigilant against his incoming spirit arrows.
Li Xuanfeng could only cast a grim glance at the cultivators in the mist. His own subordinates were faring somewhat better: Lin Shouye possessed good strength, and the talisman sword in Zhuang Cheng's hand was razor-sharp; the two had already slain the demonic cultivators facing them.
Kongheng and Wushao held down three demonic cultivators, while Gu Lanying's prowess was likewise outstanding, battering the demonic cultivator before him until his body was nearly disintegrating. Of the remaining cultivators, only one had fallen, while even Baiyinzi was barely holding on.
Looking at the falling immortal lights and rampaging demonic qi in the distance, Li Xuanfeng felt an ominous premonition steadily rising in his heart. His own side held a slight advantage, yet Tang Shedu's contingent of subordinates had already collapsed, with barely a speck of immortal light visible within the rampant demonic clouds.
Why had the cultivators led by Tang Shedu been almost wiped out so easily? Was he truly holding back in such an urgent mission merely out of caution against Li Xuanfeng? Tang Shedu was the long-renowned Changtian Halberd; even if he could not fully unleash his skills, it should have been more than enough to give the enemy a bitter lesson. Yet he fought sluggishly, dragging his feet as though he were barely present.
Li Xuanfeng's heart sank like a heavy stone to the bottom of a lake. Golden light rose silently from both his arms as a dreadful suspicion surfaced in his mind.
*No, that's not right...*
*Tang Shedu is terrified. He fears the Dragon Slayer, he fears...*
His brow lowered as a chilling thought arose—one tremendous enough to shake all cultivators and leave Yanshan Pass virtually breached!
The sense of danger at his brow grew heavier and heavier. A sudden chill gripped his heart, and a thought instantly crystallized in his mind.
His thoughts had only flickered for a fraction of an instant when the hairs all over his body stood on end. A searing, burning pain flared across his back. He whipped around and shoved his artifact forward in sheer horror, crying out:
"Tang Shedu!!"
*Boom!*
Golden light rolled upward, creeping along the soft armor that shone so brightly it seemed almost white, leaping onto a burly arm to illuminate Tang Shedu's panicked yet ruthless expression. His slender fingers gripped a black circular shaft with an iron grip.
A platinum halberd, long prepared and gathering momentum, burst forth from the thick sea of clouds! Its golden light was like the morning dawn scattering all evil, yet also like a solid golden pellet leaping out from endless mist, thrusting forward with lethal precision!
The halberd rolled the wind and clouds, bringing forth seventeen platinum side-branches. Dense magical power rolled incessantly across them, its qi-blades graceful and flowing, manifesting an oppressive might honed through years of cultivation.
There was no telling how long this halberd had gathered force. It was like a golden lightning bolt streaking across the dark night, silent yet razor-sharp, far faster than any roar. Only after the halberd had already reached his back did the rumbling demonic sound follow!
A shrill howl of magical power tore through the air. From the endless darkness leaped a pinpoint of golden-white, shaking the ground until countless mulberry leaves fluttered down, while flesh and bone from the mausoleum were swept up by the gale and rained from the sky.
*Clang!*
The halberd pointed straight at Li Xuanfeng!
Chapter 572