Decisiveness Is Called For

Lingu Lanying's abrupt question made the cultivators change countenance, thrusting Si Yuanli to the very forefront. He had no need to ponder. Just by looking at the resentful faces of the crowd, he understood that Chi Zhiyan's orders and actions had long been deliberately leaked by the noble clans. The cultivators of the allied clans and rogue sects might have had shallow heritages, but they were no fools. Who among them was not seething with hatred right now? Rescue Mount Bianyan? Had Lingu Lanying not raised this before everyone, Si Yuanli would never have treated it as an issue at all! The northern cultivators had retreated, but the south's strength was ultimately inferior, and Li Xuanfeng was on the verge of perishing. Who would dare act rashly? Si Yuanli originally needed only to dismiss the assembly and secretly dispatch a few men north to scout. Faced with the Chi family, he could claim it was a rescue effort; after all, the riverbank had just been secured and no orders had arrived from the south, so who could fault him? Once the cultivators on the bank dispersed, such maneuvers would only be known to a handful of direct descendants of the great clans. Yet Lingu Lanying's direct inquiry placed Si Yuanli under the gaze of thousands, feeling thorns at his back. It was far more than a simple attempt to embarrass him. The riverbank fell deathly quiet. Si Yuanli stood turned sideways, meeting the gaze of the green-robed woman before him. Her eyes held neither aggression nor indignation—only tranquil composure. He realized the longsword in his hand was icy cold. Si Yuanli was far more calculating than his elder brother Si Yuanbai; merely meeting her eyes, he felt slightly suffocated. Within Qingchi, any clan capable of enduring for centuries represented far more than itself; it symbolized the vast forces behind it, and at times even represented the voice of a certain kind of existence: "The Violet Palace." And the Lingu family, as an assimilated Shanyue clan, had stood firm for three hundred years, watching over the South Sea on behalf of Qingchi. While their roots were indeed intricate and deep, the true crux lay in their marriage ties to the Real Person of the Great Xiukui Daoist Temple. Under such public scrutiny, if a Li family member spoke, Si Yuanli had to consider whether Xiao Chuting was speaking; if a Yuan family member took action, he had to wonder whether Buzi had returned. Lingu Lanying's gesture represented not just the Lingu family, but the intentions of Jiachuan Commandery and the South Sea cultivators—and behind it lurked the silhouette of the Lin family of Xiukui. He ran through the situation in a flash. Lingu Lanying, and indeed the South Sea cultivators as a whole, had no conflict whatsoever with him. The public resentment stirred by her words was not directed at him; it was a test of confirmation, demanding an attitude from him alone—whether to stall and equivocate, or speak evasively. There was no room for compromise in sectarian struggles and factional strife. From the moment he defended the riverbank, he had already taken this step. Be it the Li family or the Lingu family, where the hearts of the people leaned was already clear. The sword cultivator sheathed his sword, his expression placid. "In the art of seizing power, there is only swiftness and ruthlessness! Attempting reconciliation invites utter ruin; decisiveness is called for!" Which of the cultivators present could not see through an excuse? So long as he was not a Chi family loyalist, this grievance would not fall upon him. Yet when had the Chi family ever been stupid? A resolute look finally appeared on Si Yuanli's face. He murmured inwardly, then spoke warmly, "Chi Zhiyan gathered the elites to garrison Bianyan, protected by the grand array, forcing the northern cultivators to detour. Mount Bianyan was supposed to be several times safer than this place; all should have been well. Everyone, be at ease—there are no strange omens along the horizon, and after so long, not a single person has fled back in defeat. They must be safe and sound." With these few words, he defined the situation, providing oblique confirmation for the rumors circulating among the clans and nailing the resentment squarely onto the Chi family's head. He concluded cleanly and decisively. Lingu Lanying nodded in understanding. Several peak masters and Daoists close to the Lingu family stood thoughtfully behind her, while the crowd whispered among themselves and looked up toward the north. How many people were at Mount Bianyan right now? Si Yuanli was likely the person on the bank who knew best. Chi Zhiyan, second only to Sect Master Chi Zhiyun in the Chi family's main lineage; a line of direct descendants, from Chi Liangzhe to Chi Dongqing; various peak masters and Daoists who were Chi family direct blood or in-laws; and even Ning Heyuan of the Ning family. And the Chi family's two most talented juniors of recent generations had been deliberately kept within the sect, only to be brought out by Si Boxiu, dying together inside the Grotto-Heaven! This reminded Si Yuanli: he did not believe in any "safe and sound." With the various lords having seized this golden opportunity, the fall of Mount Bianyan was inevitable. The complete absence of news right now was surely because it had been sealed off. Precisely because of this, he still felt a sense of disbelief in his heart: could they really have perished there?! *** Mount Bianyan. Billowing demonic smoke swept across the bloodstained peak. Black boots stepped into pools of blood. The black-robed youth's brow was sharp as he looked toward the sky filled with raining blood. The green-robed cultivator before him was handsome, originally dressed in an ethereal immortal style, yet the gloominess in his brow lent him a terrifying air. He stood leaning on his sword, his face covered in blood. Several gashes were already torn across his dharma robe. His face was deathly pale and sullen as he panted heavily, struggling to exhale the biting yin chill that had penetrated his internal organs. Blood dripped down... Chi Zhiyan, terrified, drew ragged breaths. The black-robed youth chuckled, the dark blood beneath his feet rippling slightly with his voice. Yu Jiang stood with arms folded, six bone tally plaques orbiting his body, and laughed, "I hear you are the younger brother of the Qingchi Sect Master. Well, how do you like this grand gift?" Chi Zhiyan felt chilled to the bone. Although his storage bag still held pills and talismans, Mingjiang beside them maintained a spell that was difficult to unravel, and Xuwang before him pressed on aggressively. Finally, green rain began to fall from the heavens. Fairly speaking, Mount Bianyan's defense had not been weak. There were over ten peak masters, none of them ordinary, while on the demon cultivators' side only three or four were truly formidable figures. The grand array had only suffered a few breaches; they still had the strength for a fight. Yet to the north, there were not only Mingjiang and his companions, but also countless demon cultivators pouring through from the south. Though these lesser demons lacked strength, they were utterly ruthless in slaughtering the Qi Refinement cultivators on Mount Bianyan. The four leaders only needed to pin down the defenders, and several array nodes were swiftly uprooted, losing their brilliance entirely. Thus, the peak masters were slain one by one. Chi Liangzhe, Chi Dongqing, and the others died before his eyes. In the hazy rain, he could no longer see Ning Heyuan's figure, only catching sight of an effeminate man clad in a python robe, whip in hand, lashing out with biting cold light. Chi Zhiyan slowly came to a realization, reflecting that he had miscalculated his moves: "I should have opened the riverbank and let all those demon cultivators surge downstream, rather than gathering them around Mount Bianyan! Had I done that, there would still have been a chance to escape!" "I've ruined my elder brother's grand design!" As a crucial direct descendant of the Chi family, he naturally possessed Violet Palace talismans—more than one, in fact. Yet through a quarter-hour of battle, he had only managed to use a single one, which the enemies had joined forces to neutralize. Chi Zhiyan carried not only Violet Palace talismans, but even a profound talisman tied closely to his wrist that could briefly flee into the Great Void, which he had kept in reserve. He channeled it repeatedly, yet the talisman failed to illuminate. The space here had long been reinforced. If he were a Violet Palace cultivator, he could still come and go as he pleased, but relying on talismans, escape was impossible. Chi Zhiyan's talent was passable, but his combat strength was nothing remarkable. Normally he had no need to fight for his life, so against the figures before him, the gap was stark. Had he not possessed several trump cards to protect him, he would have been slain long ago. In just a quarter of an hour, he had exhausted all his trump cards. The black-robed youth cast another spell. The longsword in Chi Zhiyan's grip instantly transformed into a polychrome lizard, thrashing and biting toward his wrist. Chi Zhiyan no longer had the energy to dispel the spell. He reached toward his waist, intending to switch weapons. Yet Yu Jiang's shamanic sorcery was taking effect. When he reached for the pouch at his waist a second time, the brocade pouch had already turned into a plump, wet, furry mouse, its long tail tied around his waist, letting out shrill squeaks. The fat mouse squeaked again. Only then did Chi Zhiyan remember the pouch was ruined, and despair surged within him: "The bald monk wielded such fine dharma treasures, with all their transformations, just to target a Foundation Establishment cultivator!" Master Xuwang laughed uproariously, yet anxiety seeped through the depths of his eyes. His spells grew ever fiercer, shattering Chi Zhiyan's sinews and bones. Had his dharma robe not been sufficiently sturdy, he would have collapsed long ago. "Brother Yu Jiang, why waste words on him!" "Decree!" Chi Zhiyan could only block with both hands. The last wisp of magic power within him was spent, the luster of his dharma robe dimmed, and a scorching polychrome beam pierced through his chest. He felt thoroughly chilled to the marrow. "Pfft!" Xuwang's palm drove straight through his chest and thrust upward, shattering his face along with it. Chi Zhiyan's lingering consciousness flickered for a final instant in his mind: "Chi Zhiyan is finished..." With his demise, several beams of golden light mingled with polychrome radiance soared into the sky. Streams of soul-like clear qi rose heavenward and poured into Xuwang's body. Xuwang sat cross-legged in midair, a golden lotus blooming beneath him, his face brimming with delight: "My fated opportunity has arrived!" Xuwang ascended high into the air, countless bones beneath him rising amidst the blood, radiating golden light. An ordinary Lianmin possessed only early Great Void strength without divine abilities to protect them, making them slightly weaker, while a veteran Lianmin was at best on par with early Great Void. Once a Master slayed someone carrying major karmic mandate, however, the Lianmin he became would be no ordinary entity; not only would he gain immense strength, but the Lianmin's karmic mandate would fall into the hands of the Maha, nourishing him and saving vast amounts of cultivation effort. The green rain mingled with droplets of blood pattered across the ground. The hook snake seal suspended in midair reverted to its true form, floating quietly. *** High above in the Great Void. Li Xuanfeng had carried the grand karmic mandate of the North-South conflict. The Maha had originally been waiting in the Great Void for the developments in Anhuaitian, but seeing such a savory prize, he could not hold back. Although the Maha could not intervene directly, there was still a host of Masters in the north! He had summoned the Masters and bestowed the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl precisely to forge a Lianmin under his banner. Taking advantage of the absence of southern Violet Palace cultivators, he had summoned two transformations of the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl. Though he had not intervened personally, ordinary Masters could never have provoked such changes on their own; he had indeed crossed the line, and at this moment felt secretly uneasy. The Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl possessed three transformations, and he had only used two. He had intended to take more time, allowing a few more Masters to perish so as to concentrate their karmic mandate, which was why he had not unleashed all three transformations at once. Who could have expected Zipei to intercede, letting the choice meat at his lips slip away! A speck of violet light rested upon the bowl, faintly crystalline yet immovable as a mountain, pinning the treasure that the Maha had cultivated for ages right within the Great Void. The Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl could neither advance nor retreat, frozen stiffly in place. A colossal polychrome glow congealed in the Great Void, layers of colorful clouds billowing like smoke. The violet-black Shakya bowl hung quietly in the sky, trembling slightly, unable to move. A tiny purple light turned beneath the bowl, causing the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl to shudder violently and emit mournful wails. The Maha's voice boomed in great fury, near and far, like a chorus of voices echoing thunderously through the Great Void: "Fellow Daoist, do you intend to break the rules?! It is one thing to ruin my plans, but refusing to let the matter rest—what else do you intend?!" Before him stood a purple-robed female cultivator, her black hair pinned simply with an ordinary black hairpin. She raised her brows and looked north, her gaze resting upon the massive, circular Anhuaitian within the Great Void, speaking not a word. Daixi's treasure was suppressed by her divine ability, unable to break free. The Maha could neither retreat nor advance, glaring in suppressed fury and secretly daunted: "How bizarre! That wench didn't enter Anhuaitian! How is that possible?!" Without exaggeration, with Shangyuan and the others having departed one by one, Zipei was already the Real Person with the most extensive divine abilities in Jiangnan. Had she entered to contend, not a single benefit would have been denied her. Who could have guessed she would remain entirely unmoved? Real Person Zipei looked on coldly. Her divine ability drew out a sheet of grey qi, which scattered and transformed into three distinct flames, falling one by one into her hand. She finally spoke, raising her head and uttering coldly, "You, Daixi, are merely a Maha of two lifetimes, yet you dare speak of rules before me? Even Zhelu wouldn't dare say much. Scram while you still can!" Once one became a Maha, only in their third lifetime did they attain mid-Great Void strength, and only in their fourth or fifth could they rival late Violet Palace. To put it bluntly, Daixi was truly no match for her. He could only swallow his anger and flee. Maha Daixi's polychrome glow flickered within the Great Void, carrying an unmistakable sense of humiliation. Truly not daring to utter another word, he recalled the wailing Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl. The eyes formed of clustered polychrome light dissolved into a cloud of color, retreating back to the north. Zipei lowered her eyes, gazing quietly at Anhuaitian before her. The Grotto-Heaven was slowly fading away, its golden nature aura drifting near and far, bursting with rumbles. *** "Boom!" A wave of cheers suddenly rose from below. Si Yuanli stood with his hands behind his back on the riverbank, meeting Lingu Lanying's smiling face. His eyes narrowed slightly as he heard the woman before him say softly: "The 【Xinyou Swimming Marsh Seal】 is broken!"