As his divine ability circulated, his figure instantly transformed into billowing black sha. Shifting erratically between fiendish qi and fiendish radiance, it surged and danced upward to meet the torrent of descending lights.
Five kinds of Lihuo fire mixed with the Sui Qi flames spewing from the Baiyin Fan, fluttering and drifting down in a chaotic flurry. Colliding with the churning fiendish qi, they flared into a brilliance of red and black. As the twin fires parted, a mountain of white jade descended from the heavens.
*Clang!*
The pommel of the long-handled zhaodao rose lightly to his chest, bracing against the Jade Smoke Mountain. From the fiendish qi, another hand shot out, seizing the pitch-black halberd that thrust chillingly through the fire.
*Bang!*
A shower of sparks erupted. Five flared fingers locked deathly tight onto the crescent branch of the halberd. Rolling black smoke billowed from where flesh met metal amid the burst of sparks, letting out an ear-grating screech.
Li Zhouwei's Jiazi Soul-Refining Halberd Art was indeed formidable, but the weapon in his hand was only a dharmic artifact—an ancient artifact. In the hands of a Violet Palace cultivator, it was hardly well-matched. The five types of Lihuo mixed with Sui Qi could at least scorch his opponent's dharmic body, but the Jade Smoke Mountain, which the Yu clan had once used to dominate the lake, was parried with a mere flick of the spirit tool's pommel. Had it not been enhanced by a divine ability, it would not have even brushed the man's shadow.
Only the halberd forged of surging black flame, driving deep into the fiendish qi, had forced Helian Wumeng to catch it with his bare hand. It scorched his palm until black smoke poured out—the only technique capable of inflicting substantive harm.
In the sky, the Audience at the Heavenly Gate was already upon him!
Helian Wumeng had watched for it from the start. Taking so many of his foe's attacks in the form of mist was precisely to free his hands for this moment. Bringing two fingers together before his chest, he held them upright, and the eighteen glazed beads at his waist vanished instantly.
*Hum!*
The glazed beads resonated in harmony, unleashing ten thousand fathoms of Taiyin light that coalesced into a disk of white jade in the air. It firmly received the descending divine ability Audience at the Heavenly Gate. Taiyin and Mingyang collided, bursting with waves of color as though boiling over.
These eighteen glazed beads were known as the Xici Jiang Glazed Stars, Helian Wumeng's prized trump card. He had held them back until now for this very moment!
It was not that he was overly fearful of the divine ability, but the setting was utterly wrong. Had they been on the open sea or in the north, he would have loved to test its might. Though the hunt stirred his blood, he had not lost his senses. Deep within enemy territory, how could he allow himself to be pinned down by a divine ability?
Yet the moment he unleashed the treasure, the situation shifted abruptly. The four arms manifested behind his opponent had only served to pin him down. The golden-eyed youth in midair had already pulled his own hands back. One hand gripped Dasheng as golden light blazed in his eyes; the other thrust straight into the fiendish qi, miraculously seizing Helian Wumeng by the throat amid the illusory mist!
*What?*
Helian Wumeng cultivated the Sha Qi body divine ability, allowing him to gather and disperse at will. Unless an opponent was aided by a lifebound divine ability, it was exceedingly difficult to pinpoint his true body within the fiendish qi. By all rights, one should have had to flush him out with spells—who could simply reach into the mist and drag him out by force?
With his throat clamped in a bare-handed grip, there was no time for astonishment. His divine abilities surged recklessly into his eyes. High above, the eighteen glazed beads dimmed as his gaze turned blood-red, demonic qi boiling up in an attempt to blast forth a surging demonic light to drive the youth back.
The youth's golden eyes blazed. The heavenly gate vanished from the sky, and light rose from the center of Li Zhouwei's brow as well.
*Rumble!*
The blood-red demonic light and the Shangyao Subduing Light clashed in midair like solid pillars of brilliance. At the moment of impact, crimson engulfed the entire sky. A wave of red light rippled out from Helian Wumeng; though both beams were of comparable size, his technique was more profound, and the dharmic power poured into it was utterly reckless, making it slightly more powerful!
Yet a wisp of faint gold emerged from the Shangyao Subduing Light at Li Zhouwei's brow—the very solar power supplied by the Fulüe Gold!
This thread of pure solar power surged upstream, as if stripping something away, reducing the blood-red demonic light to a castle in the air that withered abruptly.
At the same time, the golden-eyed youth closed in. His face expanded rapidly in Helian Wumeng's pupils. With a thunderous boom, the demonic light shattered, and the youth in silver-black armor took a fist directly to the head, exploding into a cloud of black mist.
"Ugh..."
Two streams of bloody tears cascaded down Helian Wumeng's cheeks. The fiendish qi across the sky detonated in unison, and his figure vanished in a flash of red light, taking the crimson sky with it. He shifted several dozen fathoms away, grinding to a halt amid billowing black smoke.
Li Zhouwei flicked his wrist lightly. The demonic blood on his hand was rapidly turning into stormy, billowing fiendish qi that drifted away—Helian Wumeng's cicada-shedding escape had clearly come at a cost.
The Beidi man kept his eyes tightly shut, his expression twisted in pain as bloody tears streamed incessantly from the corners of his eyes. Raising a hand, he leveled two fingers beneath both eyes and thrust them viciously into his flesh.
Two round holes appeared in Helian Wumeng's cheeks. With a slight squelch and twist, two blood-red eyes sprouted beneath his shut lids. The dazzling red light surged forth once more, arresting the white light that pursued him through the air!
The immense might of the Shangyao Subduing Light stemmed largely from the solar power released by the Fulüe Gold, but that solar power was not limitless. Having already driven into his foe's eyes, the white light abruptly waned and was shattered by the red radiance, allowing the aggressive demonic light to strike the golden-eyed youth's forehead.
*Rumble!*
Yet Helian Wumeng showed no relief, his demeanor ice-cold. At that very moment, his long-handled zhaodao flicked upward with a loud clang, intercepting the chilled, serpent-like halberd that tore through the void.
*Clang!*
Even in haste, he had yielded no ground. Yet Li Zhouwei had not bothered to defend against the demonic light at all. Instead, he twisted the halberd violently. Its color-glowing crescent branch brushed lightly across Helian Wumeng's face, carving open a gruesome wound that nearly sheared off half his cheek, briefly exposing glistening white teeth!
Yet Helian Wumeng's composure remained absolute.
*Thousand Hundred Bodies!*
The radiance of his body divine ability brightened steadily. The horrific wound spanning half his face contracted rapidly almost as soon as it opened, restoring itself to its former appearance. Rather than dispelling the destructive Mingyang power and black flame clinging to the flesh, he masterfully bound them together, compressing them into a thin, golden-white scar.
Still, he had no time to purge the solar light from his eyes. With a slight sidestep, he dispersed into fiendish qi again, reforming on the far side in mild disarray.
It was all to evade the Audience at the Heavenly Gate, which had reappeared in the sky and locked onto him once more.
Across from him, Li Zhouwei also drew a sharp breath. The demonic light on his forehead detonated, instantly exposing a ghastly glimmer of white bone shimmering with colored light. But the golden-white blood that surged forth dissolved the demonic qi in an instant, causing the flesh to regenerate and restoring his forehead to smooth, unblemished skin in the blink of an eye.
The demonic light had undoubtedly bought Helian Wumeng another breath. The Xici Jiang Glazed Stars flared brilliantly, seizing the opening to suppress the youth opposite him.
How could Li Zhouwei fail to recognize the artifact's power? The Great Void trembled, and Mingyang swelled high. Audience at the Heavenly Gate abandoned its pursuit of Helian Wumeng, rising from below to withstand the glazed beads in the sky amid churning plumes of white smoke.
*Sizzle...*
Separated by a wide distance, both combatants finally ceased their attacks.
*Buzz...*
Li Zhouwei turned his arm and leveled his halberd. Dasheng hummed ceaselessly, letting out shrill, mournful cries. Though thick black flames cloaked it to prevent direct contact with the spirit tool, the dharmic artifact still looked strained to its limit.
Bloody tears still seeped from Helian Wumeng's face. He gave a cough, and two beams of golden light burst from his shut eyes. When he finally opened them, they revealed hollow, blackened sockets. Then, the two gruesome eyes below crawled upward and slotted into the empty cavities, restoring his handsome features so that from afar, he appeared completely unchanged.
A fierce, exhilarating battle had ended in an instant of separation, leaving neither man visibly impaired—save for the faint, fine scar on Helian Wumeng's cheek, which was rapidly losing its golden-white gleam.
The sky was partitioned along the north-south boundary between them: on one side rolled boundless darkness and churning fiendish qi, while on the other shone radiant light and fluttering colored clouds. For a time, neither spoke.
It was not that victory had been decided, but rather that a hazy golden light was swiftly spreading from the northwest. Golden bodies manifested one after another behind Helian Wumeng. Their gazes were both greedy and wary, hands clasped and eyes lowered in silence.
Four Lianmin had arrived at once.
With his back to the great river, Li Zhouwei stood as resplendent celestial light held the demonic and Buddhist host at bay. Neither side struck. One Lianmin chuckled, glanced at Li Zhouwei, and lowered his hands with a murmur:
"The northern objective is achieved, though Mount Tangdao remains untaken. This place is not safe. We have been dispatched to escort Fellow Daoist back to Mount Xiaoshi..."
Helian Wumeng did not even turn his head. A look of wonder lingered on his face, hands still itching for battle as he stared at Li Zhouwei from afar, until a deep, resonant voice drifted through the air:
"A fine dharmic body."
It was Li Zhouwei who spoke the praise. Helian Wumeng still watched him with marvel. Planting his long-handled zhaodao tip-down into the clouds, he raised a finger and brushed it across the thin, golden-white scar on his cheek. The golden-white color gathered onto his fingertip, which he brought before his eyes to inspect.
"Good!"
Delight surfaced in his gaze.
"A battle against Minghuang is worth three years of bitter cultivation!"
Though enemies, the Beidi man lacked nothing in magnanimity. Although the wound had lost its color and the divine ability had been subdued, the trace remained etched upon his face, adding a touch of ferocity to his features.
"I shall remember this strike of your halberd."
The two sides confronted each other across the sky, their spiritual senses tracking every movement. After several breaths, two figures flew hastily on the wind from the south.
These were naturally the demonic cultivators who had crossed the river. Li Zhouwei and Helian Wumeng had fought in a flash; the demons had retreated in panic, and only these two had managed to flee. The black-robed youth flickered with dark light, clearly protected—and deterring pursuers—by a Violet Palace talisman, without which he would never have escaped so easily.
The other was engulfed in burning Lihuo and bright light, his lower body gone completely, while black smoke billowed from his remaining torso. In that fleeting span, of all the cultivators who had crossed the river, only these two survived.
Over the river, Li Zhouwei cast a cool glance toward them. Helian Wumeng held his long-handled zhaodao tightly, a knowing smile in his eyes.
With the Taiyang lineage defeated, they were likely falling back; the lineage had deep foundations, and none dared push them too far. Meanwhile, Helian Wumeng and his cohort had penetrated too deep, and the northern factions were far from united. Fearing being encircled, they had to withdraw, and these survivors were to be brought along.
If a battle broke out, Helian Wumeng was enough to pin down Li Zhouwei, and what the other Lianmin might do was impossible to predict.
Yet Li Zhouwei merely swept his gaze over them, tightening his grip on the halberd as he said coldly:
"The people may leave. What is inside the belly stays."
At these words, all four Lianmin stirred eagerly, but Helian Wumeng had no desire to linger. Laughing heartily, looking almost gleeful at the spectacle, he merely barked:
"Spit it out, quickly!"
The demonic cultivator beside the black-robed youth slumped in despair. With a wet heave, he spewed a mess of flesh and skin. Bound immediately by celestial light, it gathered into a sphere in the sky, whereupon the two fled across the river in terror.
They hurried under Helian Wumeng's cloud, stealing a frightened glance at Li Zhouwei before looking back at their own Real Person. As if scalded by the scar on his face, they quickly bowed their heads, not daring to look further.
A Violet Palace dharmic body could not retain a scar. He had clearly engraved this wound into his heart and preserved it on purpose. Now that the river-crossing demons had fled back, he caught the two, and his fiendish body dissolved swiftly into dispersing blackness, leaving only words echoing through the dark:
"Today was all spells—how dull! I hope... Fellow Daoist finds a fitting weapon, and we battle again!"
Through that clash, Helian Wumeng had naturally sensed how constrained Li Zhouwei had been. Had the weapon in his hand not been so ill-suited, Li Zhouwei would not have suddenly closed the distance to force him into spells. And had that trace of solar power not been hidden in the Shangyao Subduing Light, this duel would not have ended so easily.
Thus the skies cleared, the darkness receded, and the Buddhist cultivators retreated as well. Standing amid the clouds, Li Zhouwei quietly watched the departing silhouettes:
*Helian Wumeng... the State of Tiefu...*
Turning his artifact around, he looked with some heartache at Dasheng in his hand. The crescent-shaped side branch was slightly bent and twisted, spilling tiny specks of golden luminescence.
*Materials for ancient artifacts are hard to find. At least it didn't snap.*
After glancing at his artifact, he cast a complicated look toward the white qi on the horizon before casually shifting his gaze to the fleshy sphere the demonic cultivator had regurgitated. He said coldly:
"Roll out!"
From the mass of bloody flesh poked a head, connected only to a torso with no limbs attached. The handsome features were smeared with blood and grime, the face ghastly pale. Breathing like a thread and lips quivering, he looked on the verge of death. It was none other than Fei Qingyi!
In the battle over the lake, deprived of reinforcements, the demonic cultivators had resolved to flee. They had used a Violet Palace talisman to repel their foes and tricked him into coming close without resistance, swallowing most of Fei Qingyi's body in a single gulp. Clearly, they had intended to smuggle him across the river—whether as nourishment or for other worth, to be delivered to Helian Wumeng...
Having had most of his dharmic power and blood essence drained in the demon's belly, Fei Qingyi hung on only by the stubborn vitality of a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Any moment now, he would dissolve like snow. His pupils dilated to their limit, and his trembling lips parted as he stared up at Li Zhouwei, his head drooping low.
His consciousness was blurring, yet he knew Li Zhouwei's name well, having even gazed upon this figure from afar in the past.
*It has only been a few years...*
Li Zhouwei looked down at him with a smile. With a gentle breath, a gust of white wind swept up, pulling limbs from the fleshy mound and plugging them onto his body like planting leeks. Mingyang power surged, instantly restoring him to wholeness.
Fei Qingyi's complexion flushed ruddy at once. Yet before he could even steady his footing in the air, the gleaming white halberd swung high, catching the reflection of colored clouds and golden sunlight, and tore through the void straight through his chest!
*Squelch!*
The halberd hoisted him aloft. Fei Qingyi hung face-up like a dead fish upon the blade. In the inverted view of heaven and earth, all that remained was that pair of cold, dark-golden eyes. The world spun, pain tore through his heart and lungs, and in his mind lingered only a freezing thought:
*Better to have died cleanly!*
Chapter 907