Time passed bit by bit. Apart from the occasional gusts of scorching wind, the desert remained eerily quiet, with no signs of abnormality anywhere.
“Why hasn’t he arrived yet? Could that brat have chickened out and fled midway? To avoid alerting that fiend, we didn’t even send anyone to secretly monitor those two.” A burly man covered in red fur within the light formation finally lost his patience and sent a voice transmission to a plump elder beside him.
“Rest assured, Brother Cheqi. Since we’ve set this trap, we have absolute confidence. Though we don’t know why that fiend has pursued these two for so long, our earlier investigations show he has no intention of letting them go. As long as that ‘Six-Wings’ has even a shred of intelligence, luring the fiend here will be no problem.” The plump elder replied with a gentle smile.
“Hearing your words puts my mind at ease. Speaking of which, is that fiend truly so formidable? Aside from the twelve of us Mahayana cultivators, we’ve even deployed the Heaven-Earth Polar Formation and the Yellow Wind Scroll, the Blood Bone Sect’s ancestral treasure. With these, we could refine him alive—why even bother having us intervene?” The furred man nodded but then voiced his curiosity.
“This old man isn’t entirely sure either. But since the leading cultivators are taking this so seriously, there must be a reason. Regardless, the fact that this fiend single-handedly slaughtered three Mahayana cultivators and dared to blood-sacrifice billions of lives on this continent certainly warrants such treatment.” The plump elder mused before replying.
“I’m also curious—where did this person come from? Was he in seclusion somewhere, or is he a cross-realm powerhouse from another world?” The furred man pondered before asking again.
“There’s no need to dwell on that. No matter his origins, after committing such heinous acts, our sects cannot allow him to live. Otherwise, where would our dignity lie? How could we continue to stand in the Blood Sky Realm?” The plump elder chuckled, stroking his plump chin.
“True. But I’ve heard that Bi Ying of the Helian Commerce Alliance, Lady Lingyun of the Myriad Gu Mountain, and Master He of the Falling Sky Valley have also been invited to witness this demon-slaying battle. If those three were to intervene, that fiend would have no chance of survival.” The furred man blinked before sighing.
“Heh, given their status, why would they join forces against a single enemy? Besides, with us here, there’s no need for them to act.” The plump elder replied with a strange smile.
The furred man nodded, his expression thoughtful.
At the same time, in a golden tower within a distant city, four Mahayana elders of varying auras stood together, observing a shimmering white screen at the center.
The screen continuously shifted, displaying every corner of the desert.
Among the four was a green-robed elder—none other than Bi Ying himself.
The other three were a middle-aged man in Confucian robes, a middle-aged woman draped in multicolored radiant attire, and a dignified, hawk-eyed man clad in a blood-red robe.
All four silently watched the screen, their expressions calm, showing no intention of speaking.
…
Half a day later, a sharp whistling sound echoed at the desert’s edge as a streak of crystalline light flashed into existence, moving at a terrifying speed akin to teleportation. In a single flicker, it plunged deep into the desert.
Close behind, a seven-colored cloud appeared on the horizon, from which a cold male voice rang out:
“You’ve truly angered me now. I’ve grown tired of this cat-and-mouse game. Today, it ends.”
As the words faded, the seven-colored cloud rumbled, transforming into a dazzling arc of lightning that chased relentlessly into the desert.
In their pursuit, the two traversed nearly half the desert in the time it took to drink a cup of tea, arriving at its center.
The crystalline light dimmed, revealing a snow-white eight-winged centipede and a beautiful woman in silver palace robes.
The massive centipede rolled once before transforming into a pale-faced youth with gold and silver markings on his cheeks. The moment he appeared, he turned to glance behind him.
A thunderclap erupted in the void as a bolt of lightning shot toward them.
Six-Wings’ pupils shrank. Instinctively, he stepped back, his translucent wings flickering into existence as he prepared to transform and flee again.
At that moment, the world trembled. A deep rumbling shook the earth as an invisible force surged from beneath the desert.
The seven-colored lightning froze mid-air, revealing a frail-looking youth in black robes—none other than the descended true immortal, Ma Liang.
Below, countless multicolored beams of light erupted from the sand, piercing the heavens.
As the earth quaked, an unimaginably vast formation slowly rose from the ground. With a hiss, countless Blood Path disciples emerged, forming an intricate array and chanting in unison as they activated their artifacts with the formation’s power.
Above, the sky brightened as an invisible barrier flickered and vanished, revealing an enormous light formation covering the entire firmament.
As it pressed downward, an overwhelming pressure filled the void.
Trapped between the two colossal formations, the black-robed youth appeared as insignificant as an ant.
Then, figures flickered within the sky formation as twelve Blood Path Mahayana cultivators emerged, surrounding the youth in an instant.
They stood at a distance, coldly observing him.
Despite the overwhelming odds, the black-robed youth showed no fear. Instead, his expression darkened as he swept his gaze around. With a surge of radiant light and a piercing tearing sound, he broke free of his restraints.
“You dare lay a trap for me? Mobilizing so many—do you truly believe you can kill me here?” The youth sneered, unfazed by the formations and the Mahayana cultivators.
“Hmph. After slaughtering countless lives on this continent, did you not expect retribution?” A Mahayana shrouded in bloody mist retorted coldly.
“I did anticipate it—though not that you’d ally with those two. No matter. I’ve grown weary of this chase. Once I finish you, I’ll deal with them personally.” The youth glanced at Six-Wings and the woman, who had retreated into the distance.
“Such arrogance! He won’t relent until death stares him in the face. Enough talk—let’s act!” A barefoot elder in black robes growled, flicking his sleeves.
A dozen blood-red swords shot forth from his body.
The other Mahayana cultivators followed suit, summoning their treasures.
Simultaneously, the two formations hummed to life, countless runes swirling into motion.
Above, the light formation condensed into a colossal mirror, its surface gleaming silver. With a deafening roar, countless silver threads rained down like a storm.
Below, the desert formation emitted clusters of white light, engulfing the countless disciples before coalescing into a gigantic character: “Seal.”
The moment the character formed, space around the black-robed youth twisted as waves of law fluctuations surged toward him.
Yet, the youth merely smirked.
The next instant, an overwhelming aura erupted from his body as chains of violet-gold manifested across his form, blazing with blinding radiance.
The desert center darkened as the world’s spiritual energy funneled toward him like a vortex.
At the desert’s edge, a masked figure appeared mid-air—Xiao Ming, the Blood Bone Sect’s Grand Elder.
He had been standing with his hands behind his back, but as the apocalyptic aura erupted in the distance, his expression shifted.
“Even the Heaven-Earth Formation can’t suppress him… It seems we must use that treasure after all.”
Muttering gravely, he opened his mouth and spat out a yellow scroll.
The scroll unfurled vertically, revealing a map of the desert—identical to the one before him.
With a tap of his finger, the once-static painting came alive, the depicted desert writhing as if real.
In response, the actual desert’s sands began rolling in a rhythmic, eerie motion.
“Wind, rise!”
Xiao Ming’s hand seals shifted as he commanded.
At the map’s edges, faint yellow mist emerged, swirling into existence.
Simultaneously, identical mist manifested in reality, rapidly coalescing into towering tornadoes that multiplied, forming an impenetrable wall of wind.
The same phenomenon occurred along the entire desert perimeter.
“Go!”
With a flick of his sleeve, Xiao Ming unleashed the formation.
The wind walls roared, surging toward the desert’s center from all directions, growing fiercer with every moment.
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