The man was dressed in the Fei family's customary Jing robes. The spear in his hands was battered and worn, and decades of weathering the burdens of managing the household had drained all color and vitality from his face, yet one could still discern traces of a noble scion about him.
He was none other than Fei Tongyu, the current patriarch of the Fei family on the northern shore of Lake Wangyue!
Over the past several decades, the Fei family had languished in silent decline as though their spine had been snapped. Fei Tongyu's days had been the hardest of all; whenever he closed his eyes at night, that ethereal gleam of sword light would invariably rise before him.
The scene of that man casually slaughtering his grandfather Fei Wangbai like a dog replayed in his mind again and again. From then on, the Fei family could no longer cultivate their ancestral *Jiandao Jin*. A century of accumulated foundation had been reduced to nothing overnight, forcing them to start anew and plunging them into unending torment...
He had awakened in terror from his dreams far too many times; there was no way he could mistake him! It was this very man in the sky! Fei Tongyu's current status was so humble that he did not even possess the qualifications to know the man's identity, yet he was in no hurry. He murmured,
"With an affair of this scale... Qingyi will be able to find out... Good... Very good..."
This man, who had always hesitated like a skittish weasel, now looked with absolute composure at the vast, colorful radiance filling the sky. Though a mere stray wisp of the aftershocks could tear him to shreds, he showed no fear whatsoever, muttering in his heart,
*So long as vengeance has an object, I do not fear it being lost to oblivion. You struck down my grandfather, leaving his corpse sprawled in the snow under the gaze of all, his remains unjoined for three whole months...*
*Three thousand kin yet remain of the Fei clan, all weeping tears of blood for our ancestor and nursing bitter hatred. Even a three-year-old toddler upon the peak draws wooden talismans to curse you. Just you wait... just you wait...*
Those eyes sank into the dark smoke, swallowed by the darkness. The golden hue in the heavens brightened once more. Si Yuanli, completely absorbed in his battle, remained entirely oblivious.
His green robes fluttered and his swordcraft was ethereal, flowing through the air with unbound freedom and sweeping elegance as he forced the two Masters into continuous retreat. Having been shelved and kept in obscurity by Yuanxiu for so many years, unsheathing his sword at long last brought Si Yuanli a genuine sense of exhilaration.
The *Songbai Quanyuan Sword Art* had deep, ancient origins that could be traced all the way back to Sima Jun, who had once guarded the riverbanks for the State of Wei. The sword qi in Si Yuanli's hands was snow-white, resonating with the Huaijiang Map beneath their feet and growing ever sharper. The thundering shouts of the Masters merely caused him to pause for a brief moment; the jade bracelet around his wrist flickered between light and darkness, instantly freeing him from their pressure, and he raised his brows to look toward Li Xuanfeng.
Li Xuanfeng had already traded several blows with the Shakya Masters, rocking the heavens with thunderous roars, and the battle had reached a crucial juncture.
High in the air, six Masters glared with furious, bulging eyes as Buddhist chants surged with great vigor. Some had three heads, some six arms; some bore a pair of blazing eyes upon their chests, while others possessed four vibrating ears on either side of their heads, each manifesting their true form.
Upon reaching the rank of Master, aside from two specific lineages, most masters of profound cultivation possessed both male and female forms within a single body. Their faces shifted between male and female, features weaving together in an eerie, bizarre manner.
Yet the arms holding their weapons were muscular and shapely, shimmering with golden dust as they gripped their artifacts tightly. All of them bore down upon the golden bow, radiance interweaving in magnificent brilliance. The ferocious golden bow hooked the edges of their various weapons, holding steady in midair.
Held at bay by the six Shakya cultivators, Li Xuanfeng's astral energy tumbled like clouds. In the sky, it transformed from intangible into solid form, condensing into needles of sharp radiance that intertwined bit by bit, tracing upward along the contours of his Tianjin Cuirass and coiling around his body.
His hand resting against the golden bow remained as steady as a mountain, yet beams of golden light poured through his fingers. A white scroll unfurled anew beside him, trailing through the air like a long serpent, and Li Xuanfeng abruptly vanished on the spot.
The six Shakya cultivators' artifacts struck empty air at the same instant. Six pairs of eyes, as if cast from the very same mold, turned together toward the south, just in time to see the white-gold armored man materialize. His longbow was drawn like a full moon, aimed directly at them.
*Clang—*
In midair, three golden rings jolted violently and blazed with brilliant light, as if ensnaring something that struggled frantically. They emitted a frenzied din of clashing metal in place, but Li Xuanfeng's bowstring never ceased.
*Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!—*
The faces of the three Shakya cultivators controlling the golden rings turned deathly pale, and they spat blood in unison. The remaining nine hurriedly formed incantation seals, chanting spells whose deep, intricate syllables bewitched the mind, whispering in the air,
"Respectfully we summon the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl!"
The great formation shook incessantly as a thunderous rift tore open in the Great Void. A pinpoint of golden light shot through the breach and fell right into the center of the twelve, like a pebble dropped into water. Ripples cascaded outward before swiftly gathering and condensing into a massive purple alms bowl.
This purple bowl was rimmed with two bands of black. Though devoid of any incantations, it was mysterious and unshakable. Its pitch-black mouth drew in the countless incoming rays of golden light, suppressing and containing them with utter stability.
"A spiritual artifact at the Violet Palace level!"
Si Yuanli's face darkened instantly. Warning bells rang out in his mind as he intuited a terrifying revelation.
One could tell at a glance that this Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl belonged to a Maha. It had undoubtedly been dispatched under the direct authority of one of the Seven Aspects and descended here upon invocation, which meant that at this very moment, at least one Maha was paying attention to this battlefield!
"Hahahahaha!"
While Si Yuanli grew exceedingly vigilant, the twelve, having brought forth an artifact specifically tailored against Li Xuanfeng, found some relief from their earlier frustration at failing to subdue a single man. They burst into loud laughter, their layered voices echoing across the firmament,
"Pitiable Southern barbarian of the Shanyue race, how dare you test the sacred arts of our orthodox faith? The World-Honored One is compassionate, yet today you shall meet your end right here!"
The roar boomed like thunder, drawing the startled gazes of cultivators far and wide.
No matter how formidable Li Xuanfeng was, he was ultimately just one man, whereas before him stood twelve Masters of the orthodox Kongwu Path! Every single one was at the pinnacle of Foundation Establishment; not only could they borrow divine arts from above, but they also possessed an extraordinarily profound formation. How could one person possibly withstand them?
At this moment, even Li Qinghong showed a look of worry. She contemplated abandoning her current opponents to rush forward and help. She reckoned that even if she sustained heavier injuries, pushing Perilous Sparrow of the Vast Sky to its limit would still allow her to pose a threat to them...
Li Xuanfeng's expression, however, remained unchanged. He said softly,
"Just watch!"
The moment his words fell, the golden string in his hand flashed. The scroll actually emerged from his flank, unfurling with a leap into the air and weaving like a swimming dragon, casting forth a sheet of silver radiance.
Countless golden rays surged from his hand like an overflowing torrent from a breached dam. In an instant, an untold number of profound rays poured forth, plunging into that crystalline silver light.
The moment the golden rays touched the silver light, they split into two hues of gold and silver—one dividing into two, two dividing into four—bursting upward into the high heavens and piercing deep into the clouds.
*Clang!*
Before the skyful of profound rays could even fall back down, the silver light had already swept across in advance. The purple bowl held relatively firm, but the three golden rings wobbled crookedly as if struck by a speeding comet.
*Clang, clang, clang, clang!—*
The three Shakya cultivators controlling the golden rings paled, but by relying on the great formation to harmonize their dharmic powers, color returned swiftly to their faces. Even so, the twelve Shakya cultivators hesitated for a split second simultaneously.
This formation boasted an ancient heritage and miraculous qualities. Not only could the twelve harmonize their powers to distribute damage equally, but they could also communicate telepathically through it. In an instant, their thoughts converged within the array:
*This demon is extraordinarily formidable. The Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl has a limit to what it can contain; how can we squander it lightly? We should stow it away for now and face him with our formation!*
None of these Shakya cultivators were simple characters. Refusing to give Li Xuanfeng any chance to probe the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl, the purple bowl vanished in an instant. The twelve returned to their array positions together, commanding with a thunderous shout,
"Mi!"
A golden grand formation materialized, spanning both shores of the river. Countless golden incantations flowed across its surface as it assumed tangible form—a circular array vast as a mountain, slightly tilted, dispersing clouds and demons alike with terrifying majesty.
"What a formidable formation."
Having clashed up to this point, the cultivators from both north and south had gradually lost their fighting will, yet bound by orders from their superiors, neither side had any intention of stopping. Noticing the commotion, they looked up one after another. Before they could even scrutinize the grand array, however, they caught a glimpse of flickering light behind it.
Si Yuanli finally lost his composure. The sword light in his hand wavered slightly, though fortunately his opponents had already been beaten to the point of being unable to retaliate, so this lapse brought no consequences. Horrified in his heart, he murmured,
"Thirty-two thousand seven hundred and sixty-eight..."
As his words faded, a sky full of stars materialized above, interwoven with gold and silver, twinkling erratically. They expanded steadily within the pupils of the onlookers, turning into a deluge of profound rays descending from the heavens. Even before they landed, an aggressive, razor-sharp edge swept over everyone's faces.
"What... what is this?!"
"Is this Foundation Establishment?!"
The cultivators below were already struck pale with shock. Li Qinghong watched with eyes reddening slightly, thinking to herself,
*Second Uncle must have used a secret technique that damages his lifespan and cultivation...*
The deluge of profound rays poured down like a torrential rainstorm. The low-level cultivators on the ground instantly scrambled in terror, heads in their hands. Fortunately, upon reaching midair, the rays coalesced of their own accord and surged toward the central formation like the Heavenly River crashing down to suppress it.
The twelve Shakya cultivators were suppressed together atop the pass, rendered immobile. Their vision was consumed entirely by the two colors of gold and silver. The great array swayed and tilted like a lotus leaf in a downpour, but they were twelve after all; though someone would cough up a mouthful of blood every now and then, the formation remained unbroken.
Though the twelve Masters were suppressed for the moment and the profound rays did not strike the ground, the retreat of the low-level cultivators on both sides was unstoppable. They fled toward their respective shores, and the Foundation Establishment cultivators had no heart to stop them...
Amidst the deluge of profound rays and golden rain across the sky, the offensives on both sides were forced into a temporary halt. The cultivators from both north and south had lost all will to fight; Embryonic Breathing and Qi Refinement cultivators retreated en masse, leaving only Foundation Establishment experts still keeping each other in check.
Matters had developed to a point where nearly everyone present could see the truth: the entire situation now rested upon Li Xuanfeng and these twelve Shakya cultivators...
Either Li Xuanfeng would slaughter the twelve and bar the northern forces from heading south, or the twelve Masters would slay Li Xuanfeng, causing the Huaijiang Map to collapse and opening the way for the northern cultivators to sweep southward!
Beneath the gaze of tens of thousands, the golden bowstring in Li Xuanfeng's hands was drawn to a full moon. His eyes burned with astonishing brightness. Finding even the augmentation of the ancient spiritual artifact insufficient, his two immortal foundations evaporated heedless of the cost, giving rise to a thin golden mist.
Over all these years, Li Xuanfeng naturally possessed an art that consumed essence and lifespan, known as the *Xiyuan Dingfa*. It was originally something from the Ning family, and he had used it once before when slaying Tang Shedu.
This secret technique inherently carried severe repercussions; exhausting thirty to forty percent of one's immortal foundations would usually cause one's cultivation to collapse. That he had managed to remain safe and sound in the Palace of Daning after slaying Tang Shedu with this method was partly due to Yuanxiu stepping in, but also tied to his current condition.
At present, his entire cultivation was anchored in the talisman seed, nearly half detached from his physical vessel. He was practically borrowing it from the talisman seed, which granted an unexpected benefit: the immortal foundations were sustained by the seed, meaning that unless he drained them dry in a single breath, no matter how much cultivation he extracted through secret arts, he would not suffer a total collapse.
Thus, using it once more, he spared his cultivation not in the slightest. Taking advantage of the twelve being pinned down, the golden-red arrow in his hand grew increasingly condensed, surging dharmic power and astral energy coalescing within his grasp.
*Buzz—*
The deluge of profound rays persisted for dozens of breaths. When that gold-and-silver radiance finally vanished, the golden-red arrow in Li Xuanfeng's hands disappeared almost simultaneously. The twelve shuddered in unison, too late to summon the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl.
Only the three golden rings floated up alone, abruptly seizing hold of something. The three round rings stalled for a brief instant, one corner warping violently out of shape. After just a single breath, the artifacts let out an ear-piercing shriek of tearing metal in midair.
*Crack, crack... Clang!—*
The three artifacts exploded in midair in an instant, raining down as a shower of golden fragments with a clatter. Though the three Shakya cultivators had severed their connection with their artifacts early on, they still spat mouthfuls of blood, their faces turning as pale as golden paper.
Fortunately, thanks to this brief delay, that purple-gold alms bowl materialized in midair once again and swallowed the golden-red arrow that had broken free. It shook twice, its radiance flickering erratically.
The twelve Shakya cultivators promptly seized the opportunity. Decisively leaping from their positions, they dismissed the bowl. The remaining nine cultivators shifted positions, reconverging their grand array as they chanted in unison,
"We beseech Suxikong! Let the True Dharma subdue demons!"
Instantly, sound rumbled through the air. The bodies of the remaining nine Shakya cultivators blazed with light. A pair of eyes opened upon each of their chests, calm and indifferent, while golden veins bulged across their faces, no longer bearing human likeness.
Those eyes turned simultaneously toward Li Xuanfeng. There was no colorful glare, no golden light, nor any brilliant radiance tearing through the air, yet the bright luminescence beneath everyone's feet quaked, causing the cultivators' footing to stagger.
The bright light upon Li Xuanfeng dimmed for a split second, and he was frozen in place. Following suit, the nine Shakya cultivators leapt up from their positions together, instantly dispersing the formation beneath their feet as they struck forth augmented by the Suxikong aspect!
*Boom!*
Metal and stone clashed like an avalanche crashing into a tsunami. All radiance across the sky was snuffed out, and breath caught in throats across both shores.
The combined strike of the ten Shakya cultivators, reinforced by the Suxikong aspect summoned from their array, had stacked its power to a terrifying extent. Standing to the side, Si Yuanli felt an omen of death surge in his heart. He thought in horror,
*I underestimated them!*
The bright pass beneath his feet swayed. Si Yuanli broke into a cold sweat. He raised his head in panic, catching sight of a speck of red between the gaps where weapon glints, golden light, and colorful hues intertwined.
*Clink...*
Scattered droplets of blood flew in all directions like a shattered bead curtain of jade, each one plump and translucent, ringing with the crisp chime of gems as they struck the stacked artifacts of the Masters.
*Sploosh...*
Blood dripped down, turning into golden rain in the murky midair. Under the watching eyes of ten thousand, amid countless gazes of either anxiety or relief, the golden bow and Li Xuanfeng's figure vanished without a trace.
"Where is that demon?!"
"Could he have been turned to ash...?"
As Si Yuanli watched the blood rain fall with wide eyes, he suddenly heard a crisp ring of clashing metal. A cold, hoarse voice echoed through the air, carrying from the heights straight into the ears of the cultivators across both north and south:
"When the Stem meets Ren and Gui, Metal is exerted to the extreme..."
As these words fell, the crisp clashing of metal grew louder and louder, booming almost louder than thunder, while that cold, hoarse voice sank deeper and deeper:
"Shen and You are the true positions of Metal—I invoke the Holding of Metal!"
Chapter 609