Li Xuanfeng paused with him above the shimmering blue water, venturing no further. Lingu Rao gazed downward with intense concentration, while Li Xuanfeng pondered, *Since Yuanxiu, Qiushui, and the others are in the Great Void—perhaps watching right above Chenshui Mausoleum—why do they need us to scout? The blue water over Chenshui Mausoleum is certainly an anomaly, likely influenced by the Daning Palace. Sending us here must have some other motive.*
As he mused, Lingu Rao glanced twice at the azure water beneath their feet and transmitted his voice through magical power: "Daoist Xuanfeng, the water above Chenshui Mausoleum has already transformed into an attribute of Heshui. Something has definitely gone wrong."
Li Xuanfeng pondered for a breath. Looking at the blue-glowing expanse amidst the dark mist, he asked, "A dragon species?"
"Perhaps not." The Lingu family originated from civilized Shanyue, one of the very few clans in the region that had not migrated from the north, and could be considered local powerhouses of the south. Their family heritage retained some ancient knowledge. Lingu Rao lowered his voice: "You may not know this, Fellow Daoist, but although the Shilou Gao family is famed for true fire today, they originally rose from the Heshui coastline of the State of Yan and possess a Dao heritage of Heshui as well. Even the Tuoba clan sought to seize both the Heshui and Fushui paths back then... My only doubt is this: to transform the entire Chenshui Mausoleum into a swamp of Heshui would require immense effort even for a Purple Mansion cultivator unless they possessed a special spirit artifact. Why go to such lengths?"
Having flown this far, both men were beset by doubts, trying to deduce the Purple Mansion seniors' intentions while anticipating the northern cultivators. Neither was willing to advance further north. Li Xuanfeng channeled an ocular technique, his golden gaze scanning through the clouds for a while before he asked, "Do you know what Dao heritage the royal scions of the State of Ning cultivate?"
Lingu Rao thought for a breath and replied, "They cultivate 'True Qi.' There is even an Anhuai Heaven hidden within the Great Void. At its height, they had several Golden Core experts, though whether there was a True Monarch among them is beyond our knowing."
Lingu Rao looked up in surprise, gazing into the distance thoughtfully, and said softly, "What matter could True Person Yuanxiu not state plainly, instead sending us under the guise of an investigation? I fear the Qingchi Sect does not want my family to know of this. We must be cautious."
Li Xuanfeng's expression was grim, his voice low and cold. "The True Person resides in the Great Void; what could he not inspect himself? Ordering us to relay commands and investigate cannot be so simple. So this is where it leads."
His words hinted at the friction among the sects. Lingu Rao nodded in agreement. The two rode the wind together, trailing far behind the Qingchi cultivators.
Li Xuanfeng pondered a moment, and both looked toward the east. Sure enough, a streak of golden immortal light tore through the demonic mist, the azure surface below reflecting the brilliance of various true essences and magical artifacts.
"It's the Qingchi Sect."
"No wonder we hardly saw any patrolling demonic cultivators along the way—trouble has erupted on the inside!"
After flying only a few li, demonic light flared in the sky. A cohort of demonic cultivators was locked in fierce combat! Blood light and black radiance intertwined, black fog roiled, and scattered drops of bloody rain fell from above. Li Xuanfeng's confusion eased somewhat. Lingu Rao said, "Daoist Xuanfeng... it seems a rebellion has broken out among the demonic cultivators."
Activating his ocular technique, Li Xuanfeng peered into the demonic cloud. Indeed, the sky was filled with chaotic warfare among demonic cultivators, devolving into utter turmoil. Shakya light, demonic clouds, blood qi, and dark smoke mingled, casting brilliant flares of magical power across the expanse.
At the very top, several figures were trading blows. A youth in white held a long spear encircled by swirling white qi. His eyes were bright and piercing, his features refined and handsome, his bearing singularly striking. His spear was leveled straight at the demonic cultivator opposite him.
Across from him, a demonic cultivator wore a sullen look, enveloped in purple light. His robes were lavish, emitting radiant multicolored light, marking him as a direct descendant of the Murong family. The two had clearly just clashed and were facing each other in wary standoff.
Li Xuanfeng studied the spear-wielding youth, a sense of familiarity rising in his chest. His eyes narrowed slightly. *This is the very youth Tuoba who guided me into the grotto-heaven years ago! To think he joined the demonic path...*
Tuoba had also noticed Li Xuanfeng. Facing him now as a demonic cultivator filled Tuoba with shame. *It's Senior Xuanfeng!*
Tuoba had once received Li Xuanfeng's guidance and held deep respect for him. Even if, looking back, it might have been arranged by the Jinyu Sect, Li Xuanfeng's influence on him had been profound, and resolving his crisis back then was an undeniable kindness. Meeting now as a demonic cultivator made him feel abashed. Still, fortunate that they did not meet on opposing sides of the battle... a blessing amidst misfortune.
Li Xuanfeng watched the duel above, while below them demonic cultivators turned on one another and Shakya cultivators released golden light in counterattacks. There was no clear division of battle lines; instead, they fought as if settling personal vendettas, dueling two by two. A brief look was enough for him to grasp the general situation.
Demonic cultivators were selfish and greedy by nature, nursing bitter grudges and coveting each other's possessions. Tuoba had gathered his subordinates to head south without authorization, only to be intercepted by this man. Yet the demonic cultivators under their commands had already devolved into an all-out brawl—exacting revenge, indulging malice, or plundering riches in total chaos.
The northern forces were exceedingly complex: there was the Shakya lineage, various demonic sects, cultivators from the Jinyu Sect, and many demonic cultivators conscripted from nearby lands. Without the Jinyu Sect backing it, how could any rebellion take place?
"Could the Qingchi Sect be behind these demonic cultivators? That would be strange indeed..."
Lingu Rao's bewilderment was understandable. Just as within Qingchi's own domain, the noble clans under the Qingchi Sect were hardly lenient. The clans held massive influence and had suffered countless casualties in this war; how could they tolerate demonic cultivators defecting to their side? And whose territory would these demonic cultivators occupy under Qingchi? From the demonic cultivators' perspective, turning to Qingchi was equally unprofitable. Even if Qingchi sheltered them for a time, accounts would be settled once the conflict between north and south concluded. After all, these demonic cultivators consumed human blood and took human elixirs, thoroughly demonic in practice and arts. Worse, they had slaughtered countless Jiangnan cultivators, earning the deep hatred of all the clans. At least in Jiangnan, all sects maintained an outward pretense of righteousness. Qingchi was already branded a demonic sect by the clans; if it harvested blood qi, it still needed to do so under grand pretexts.
"Wait for now."
After they watched for a few breaths, the Qingchi Sect could hold back no longer. A cloud boat tore through the sky, the concealing mist around its hull vanishing completely as numerous cultivators dropped from both sides.
These cultivators did not move to aid Tuoba in the air. Instead, they dispersed into the demonic clouds, hunting down demonic cultivators in mutual slaughter. Taking advantage of Gao Fangjing being tied down, they deliberately avoided Tuoba's subordinates and surrounded the other demonic cultivators.
A Qingchi Daoist seemed surprised by Li Xuanfeng and Lingu Rao's presence, offering them a slight bow. Then a figure flew up from below with a solemn expression, dressed in Qingchi Sect robes, stopping beside Tuoba. He withdrew a thin golden sword from his robes and held it flat without a word.
In the sky above, another man appeared, clad in a wide dark-red robe with a white lining, a golden jade belt around his waist. He had deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, dark-red boots, and held a horse-lance braced against the clouds. He sneered, "Murong En was blind not to recognize a heroic youth like you! If you cease here, I will personally recommend you to the Jinyu Sect..."
A loud shout erupted from below, followed by a blast of scorching heat. Tuoba's expression shifted. He thrust his spear and retreated, detonating the leaping flames, his spear tip faintly glowing red.
Ignoring the man, Tuoba stood with spear in hand, summoning roiling white clouds to strike. His attack clashed with the purple radiance, raising a cloud of white dust. Only then did the Murong demonic cultivator speak: "Fellow Daoist... what game are you playing? You abruptly led your men out of the formation, surely having obtained Qingchi's promise... But you practice demonic arts; what good end could come from defecting south?"
He then spat toward the man with the lance, sneering, "Shilou lackey! Your Wei descendants have arrived!"
"Shilou Fangjing, why don't you try it yourself? All you do is boast!"
Gao Fangjing looked at him coldly, pausing his horse-lance, and said quietly, "Our ancestors were originally scions of the Zhou; how could we be compared to the likes of you! Murong... our Gao clan took a northern surname personally bestowed by Emperor Gong of Wei. It is fine for the True Person to speak of it, but who are you to call us Shilou? You don't know what's good for you..."
Murong spat and laughed mockingly. "Fine, what a noble Gao surname! Shilou Chongyang and the rest sold out our eighteen Donghu tribes to beg for wealth before the Wei emperor, yet you speak without shame!"
"Is this all the Murong family amounts to?" Gao Fangjing retorted. "It seems a century of holding to Shakya doctrines has ground away all the backbone of nobility! Daoist Murong... this is also my first time clashing with the Purple Qi path. Why not show some real skill!"
As they spoke, a monk stepped forward from the void, coming to a quiet halt beside the Murong cultivator. His face was covered in dense golden patterns, both eyes closed, facing toward the mist.
As the others watched heavily, the monk opened his eyes. Within the blank white of his pupils, a speck of gold no larger than a grain of rice pierced straight through the mist. He said softly, "Two almsgivers, please reveal yourselves."
Li Xuanfeng and Lingu Rao remained silent for a breath, then retracted the gossamer-thin gauze concealing them and revealed their forms in the sky.
The atmosphere stiffened at their appearance until the monk with golden patterns clasped his hands in greeting. "I am Luejin of Baima Temple from the Great Mu Dharma Realm. Greetings, Almsgivers."
Li Xuanfeng observed him closely. The man possessed a clear, pure aura of magical power, completely unlike the other Shakya cultivators he had met before—resembling instead his family's guest elder, Kongheng.
"Never mind... the Shilou family consists of petty men. Provoked or not, they will make their move eventually."
Gao Fangjing seemed not to hear his words, scrutinizing Li Xuanfeng intently without speaking, his grip on the horse-lance tightening.
The Murong cultivator's face darkened, his voice icy as he growled, "What are the two of you waiting for?"
Magical radiance instantly erupted in the sky. The Shakya cultivator with golden markings clapped his hands together, catching Lingu Rao's scimitar between his palms. Gao Fangjing swept his horse-lance around, hemming in the two before him as golden-red true fire surged forth, forcing them to raise their magical artifacts in defense.
Seeing his chance, the Murong cultivator retreated, maneuvering his purple cloud toward Lingu Rao. He shouted, "Master Luejin! You fear no bodily injury—face this fiend!"
Master Luejin showed no anger. The golden patterns across his face shimmered, a look of resolute calm appearing in his eyes. He pressed his palms together before his chest and murmured softly, "Amitabha."
Yet meeting on the battlefield left no room for words. The Murong cultivator raised his brow, meeting Li Xuanfeng's eyes directly. Bright patterns lit up along Li Xuanfeng's jawline as he steadily raised his longbow, brilliant golden light coalescing upon the string. Luejin stared intently at the golden light.
The Murong cultivator's mind raced, his ears buzzing and his chest stinging with dread. He hastily formed hand seals, releasing a cloud of purple mist and plunging into it to weather the arrow's strike.
It was indeed the best response. Li Xuanfeng's fame had grown, and enemies no longer dared to intercept his dharma arrows carelessly, choosing evasion and concealment at the first opportunity. Without astral qi to probe the enemy, and facing a sophisticated purple-cloud technique, Li Xuanfeng could not immediately pinpoint him.
Yet Li Xuanfeng's expression did not waver. Paying no mind to the Murong cultivator hiding his head, he tilted the bow slightly and released the golden string—
*Clang!*
*Boom!*
Beside them, the monk covered in golden patterns snapped his head up, coughing blood!
With a light wipe across his chest, the gaping hole swiftly closed up. While deflecting Lingu Rao's spell, the monk called out in a resonant voice, "Superb archery!"
Chapter 584