nashuaworldcup Chapter 582
Chapter 582
In the Xuanxiao Sect's council hall, nine ever-burning lamps flickered on the bronze candlesticks, casting shimmering light on the gilded cloud-patterned floor tiles. Elder Xuanfeng's withered fingers traced the Taotie pattern on his dragon-carved staff, the nine-sectioned bronze bell at its tip humming softly with each tap, its echo reverberating eerily in the silent hall. Suddenly, the "Demon-Suppressing Diagram" hanging behind him moved without wind, the eyes of the ancient mythical beast in the painting seeming to gleam with a dark crimson light.
"The seventh level of the Soul-Devouring Curse..." The elder's voice seemed to come from a dried-up ancient well, and a sickly flush rose on his wrinkled face. "The year the Xuan Yin Sect was destroyed, I personally witnessed the power of the third level—three hundred and seventy-two spiritual springs turned into pools of blood overnight, the sect's disciples killed each other, even infants..." He coughed violently, and drops of blood seeping from between his fingers fell onto the Panlong Staff, which actually rose up wisps of green smoke.
Su Yao gripped the jade flute at her waist tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force. She glanced at Yun Yi leaning against Shen Xinghe, his pale lips and blood-stained bandages a stark contrast, and the scene of the blood-soaked clinic that day flashed before her eyes again. Shen Xinghe slammed his heavy black iron sword onto the ground, the blade humming and vibrating: "Rather than waiting to die, we should take the initiative! Once they figure out our strengths and weaknesses, it'll be difficult for them to retaliate!"
Yun Yi suddenly straightened his back, letting out a muffled groan as his wounds aggravated. He raised his hand to wipe away the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning with a stubborn flame: "Elder, the Xuan Yin Sect's Scripture Pavilion holds half of the 'Soul Devouring Forbidden Scripture.' I saw the sect elders studying it when I was young. Although the sect is now destroyed, that scripture..." Before he could finish speaking, a sharp cracking sound came from the dome of the council hall. Before anyone could react, a dark figure, accompanied by a foul stench, burst through the window.
The instant Shen Xinghe drew his sword, the dark figure vanished into a wisp of smoke in the candlelight, leaving only a jet-black talisman hovering in the air. The moment the talisman unfolded, the temperature in the hall plummeted, and icicles spread wildly along the patterns on the floor tiles. Elder Xuanfeng's pupils constricted, and the instant he caught the talisman, his aged face instantly turned frosty: "Blood Fiend Token! This is the Netherworld Palace's declaration of war!"
"The Netherworld Palace?" Su Yao took a half step back, and her jade flute automatically emitted a clear sound. She recalled the mysterious organization recorded in ancient books—one that specialized in using living people to create evil arts, which disappeared after being besieged by the Righteous Alliance a hundred years ago, but has now made a comeback. Yun Yi suddenly trembled violently, and the blood marks on the back of his neck that had just faded began to glow faintly red again. Shen Xinghe quickly caught him, the temperature from his palm was alarmingly hot.
Elder Xuanfeng tossed the talisman into the bronze furnace, and the eerie blue flames instantly engulfed the entire council hall. He turned and pointed to the map of the Xuanxiao Sect on the wall, his aged voice carrying an undeniable authority: "Shen Xinghe, immediately lead a team to the former site of the Xuanyin Sect, and carefully investigate any unusual earth vein movements; Su Yao and Yun Yi will remain at the sect to guard the sect's protective array; I will personally go to the Tianji Pavilion to request an audience with the Pavilion Master to perform divination..."
Before the words were finished, a deafening explosion suddenly resounded in the distance. Looking through the carved windows of the council hall, everyone saw a massive, blood-red mushroom cloud rising in the western sky—the very direction of the sect's spiritual energy hub. Shen Xinghe's heavy sword hummed like thunder, Su Yao's jade flute flew out of its sheath automatically, and Yun Yi struggled to his feet, fresh blood seeping from his blood-stained bandages.
Deep within the Netherworld Palace, a thousand miles away, a man in black robes grinned savagely at a bronze compass. The blood-red needle at the center of the compass spun wildly, casting an eerie, ghostly glow on his scaly hands. Hundreds of lanterns made of human skin hanging in the palace simultaneously burst into flames, illuminating the dense incantations on the walls—the "Ten Thousand Souls Sacrifice to Heaven Array," written with the blood of living people. At this moment, these incantations trembled with a chilling intensity, emanating from the direction of the Xuanxiao Sect.
"You fools of the Xuanxiao Sect, do you think you can rest easy after destroying a Blood Demon clone?" The black-robed man's withered fingers traced the edge of the compass, black blood seeping from under his nails. "On the night of the full moon, when all souls return to their places..." He threw his head back and let out a piercing laugh, the sound causing pebbles to fall from the dome of the Netherworld Palace. "The entire cultivation world will become a sacrifice for my Netherworld Palace!"
As dusk, like blood, stained the sky, the majestic gates of the Xuanxiao Sect trembled violently, and rocks rained down. Shen Xinghe stared at the menacing crack that pierced through the sea of clouds in the sky, and suddenly roared, "Not good! The spiritual energy hub has been destroyed! The sect's protective formation is in grave danger!" His face beneath the bronze mask was contorted with shock and rage, and the heavy sword at his waist hummed incessantly, as if sensing its master's overwhelming fighting spirit.
Before he could finish speaking, Shen Xinghe had already gripped the hilt of his sword, preparing to leap into the air. Just as he was about to move, a slender white hand suddenly gripped his wrist. Su Yao's dark skirt fluttered like a butterfly, and the vermilion mole at the corner of her eye appeared like blood-red in the firelight: "If you go to the Spiritual Energy Hub, who will go to the Xuan Yin Sect's old site? We must proceed according to plan now." Her knuckles turned white from the force, but her determination was stronger than her words.
Shen Xinghe's knuckles cracked softly as he gripped his sword, his eyes swirling with struggle and resentment as he gazed at Su Yao. The distant roar of the shattering sect's protective formation echoed, making his eardrums ache. Finally, he plunged his heavy sword into the ground, sending up a three-zhang-high pile of rubble: "Pass down the order! The Xuanjia Battalion will depart immediately!" As he turned, his robes swept across the rock face, leaving five deep claw marks.
Su Yao watched the figure disappear into the distance, enveloped in dust, her teeth biting until her lower lip turned white. Yun Yi's cough came from behind, and she realized with a start that the bandage on her senior brother's chest was soaked with blood. The two of them stepped over the eaves, stepping on the falling glazed tiles. The tragic state of the sect's protective array made Su Yao's pupils shrink sharply—the array patterns, which had once flowed with the brilliance of countless stars, were now as dim and lifeless as dying fish, and black blood gushed from the earth vein spring at the array's core, staining the entire altar an eerie purplish-black.
"Hold on!" Yun Yi's pale face flushed with a sickly red, his palms forming intricate hand seals. With each ounce of spiritual power he channeled, a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. Su Yao took out a jade flute from her bosom and held it to her lips; the ancient inscriptions engraved on the flute glowed faintly. The clear, melodious flute music, carrying spiritual power, flowed into the array's core, but emitted a piercing explosion the moment it touched the black blood. She stared at the constantly cracking array patterns, cold sweat soaking her temples.
At the same time, Elder Xuanfeng's sword light tore through the sky. A Heavenly Gang Sword Formation composed of seventy-two golden rays swirled around him, yet it couldn't stop the black shadows surging from all directions. These monsters resembled humans, but their skin writhed like tar, and their fingernails grew barbed bone spurs. The leader, a man in black robes, pulled back his hood, revealing half a rotting face, with eerie green flames flickering in his eye sockets: "Old man, want to go to the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion for help? Not so easy!"
Elder Xuanfeng roared, slamming his dragon-patterned staff heavily into the ground. Spiderweb-like cracks appeared in the earth, and countless bronze chains burst forth, binding the black-robed man like a cocoon. But more shadowy figures pounced, their claws tearing at his Daoist robes, blood splattering onto the plaque bearing the three gilded characters of "Xuanxiao Sect." In the distance came news of Shen Xinghe's group being attacked, Su Yao's flute playing in its exhaustion, and Yun Yi's final, mournful cry—the Xuanxiao Sect's thousand-year-old foundation was teetering on the brink of collapse in this bloody storm.
At the core of the sect's protective array, Su Yao's fingertips were cut and bleeding profusely from the array's patterns, and cracks on the surface of the jade flute were spreading at a visible speed. The blood and foam that Yun Yi coughed up mixed with spiritual energy, condensing into dark red ice crystals at the shattered array eye. When the last array pattern completely collapsed, Su Yao suddenly felt a burning pain in her arms—the jade flute that had been with her for more than ten years was now emitting a blinding white light, as if it would set the entire night sky ablaze.
"This is... the resonance of an ancient artifact spirit!" Yun Yi's pupils constricted sharply. Dragon-shaped dark patterns, never before seen, appeared on the surface of the jade flute, and a clear, icy power gushed forth from its holes. The black blood churning at the array's core melted away rapidly, like snow being poured over boiling water, revealing the revitalized lapis lazuli array base beneath. Su Yao felt her dried-up spiritual veins being revitalized. She abruptly held the jade flute to her lips, and the flute's sound transformed into tangible sonic blades, drawing seven dazzling arcs of light across the night sky.
Yun Yi forced himself to kneel, his bloodied hands forming incomplete hand seals. His and Su Yao's spiritual energy collided and merged in mid-air, forming a swirling vortex. When the starlight-like light returned to the array's core, Su Yao saw a smile finally appear on Yun Yi's lips before he collapsed heavily onto the altar. She tried to reach out to help him, but was thrown to the ground by an even more violent tremor—the array had temporarily stabilized, but the shouts of battle from afar indicated that the crisis was far from over.
On the other side, Elder Xuanfeng's coiled dragon staff was broken in two, the hem of his robe fluttering in the wind. He gazed at the densely packed black shadows surrounding him, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed, a laugh filled with resolute determination and tragic grandeur. His aged hand slammed against his chest, spitting a mouthful of blood into the void, instantly changing the very fabric of the sky. A phantom of a Qilin, its body engulfed in crimson-gold flames, emerged from the blood mist, its dragon-like roar shattering the black-robed man's mask.
"Xuanxiao Sect...not to be trampled upon!" With the elder's hoarse roar, the phantom of the Qilin transformed into a streak of light and crashed into the man in black robes. The figure flew backward like a kite with a broken string, collapsing half of the observatory. However, Elder Xuanfeng also collapsed to the ground as if his soul had been ripped away, his white hair disheveled in the wind, never to open his eyes again.
At this moment, at the former site of the Xuan Yin Sect, Shen Xinghe's heavy sword had already been cleaved in several places. The corpses of Xuanjia Camp disciples lay scattered among the talismans on the ground, and the black-robed figure emerging from the enemy ranks was identical to the one who attacked Elder Xuanfeng. "Perfect timing!" Shen Xinghe wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes behind the bronze mask growing even more ruthless. His heavy sword cleaved through the onrushing black mist, his figure becoming a blur as he weaved through the enemy ranks, black and red blood splattering wherever his sword passed.
Just as the Xuanxiao Sect members were in dire straits, nine pillars of light suddenly shot into the northern sky. The sound of air being torn apart was like thunder. The Righteous Alliance's sword-wielding team formed a wedge formation, led by the Pavilion Master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion. The jade tablet in his hand, imbued with the distress signal Su Yao had previously injected, was now flashing with dazzling light. "Form the Demon-Slaying Formation!" With this command, countless runes emanated from the swords, dyeing the entire sky a holy gold.
Shen Xinghe gazed at the breach torn open by the reinforcements, his heavy sword slashing in a final arc. He knew that this bloody battle, concerning the survival of the sect, had only just entered its most brutal phase. And the spiritual energy barrier above the Xuanxiao Sect, re-formed through the tempering of blood and fire, was giving birth to new hope.
As twilight was completely swallowed by crimson, the Righteous Alliance's Demon-Slaying Array crashed down like a golden curtain. Runes wove into a net across the night sky, each swirling halo carrying a humming sound of purification for evil. The black-robed figures of the Netherworld Palace let out piercing shrieks, their rotting fingertips drawing eerie bloody trails in the void. The monsters they summoned crawled out of the ground, their skin oozing gray-green pus, and the stench of decay caused even the rocks to turn black.
"Form a shield!" At the command of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion Master, seventy-two jade-colored light shields formed a dome in the air. The monsters crashed against the shield walls with a teeth-grinding explosion, and amidst the flying splatter of rotting flesh, more dark shadows poured out from the cracks. Su Yao held her jade flute to her lips, and the spiritual energy she had previously exhausted was restored by thirty percent under the nourishment of the flute. She lightly touched the broken array platform with her toes, and the clear flute music transformed into silver-white arrows. Wherever they passed, the heads of monsters exploded like watermelons, and dark green brain matter splattered onto the robes of the Righteous Path Alliance disciples, rising in wisps of white smoke.
As Shen Xinghe's heavy sword cleaved through the seventeenth black-robed figure, the cracks on the blade had spread to the hilt. His breathing beneath the bronze mask grew increasingly heavy, and a fleeting glance at Su Yao's figure weaving and darting through the chaotic army sent a sudden surge of anxiety through him. Suddenly, a chilling tremor shook the ground, and a figure as black as ink rose from the ruins of the Netherworld Palace. The old man in black robes was enveloped in a venomous black mist, and his withered fingers wore nine rings inlaid with dark red gemstones, each ring imbued with the wails of a wronged soul.
"Not good! It's the Lord of the Netherworld Palace!" someone shouted. The old man's hoarse laughter tore through the air. With a wave of his hand, a massive black vortex split open in the sky, swallowing up all the starlight. The powerful suction, like an invisible giant hand, swept up the rubble, corpses, and cultivators from the ground, lifting them into the air. The Lord of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion threw out the Heavenly Mystery Disc, the treasure of the pavilion. Countless hexagrams swirled in the air, but it could only barely slow down the rate at which everyone was being swallowed up.
Su Yao felt as if her hair was about to be completely torn off. The jade flute trembled violently in her arms, its dragon-shaped patterns radiating a warm light. She suddenly remembered her master's dying words, bit her fingertip, and dripped blood onto the flute's hole. When the first note, tinged with the scent of blood, rang out, golden ripples spread across the edge of the vortex. The stirring melody flowed like a surging river, and the same dragon pattern as the jade flute appeared in Su Yao's pupils. She stood in mid-air, her long hair dancing wildly in the storm of spiritual energy, her entire being seemingly merging with the sound of the flute.
The Lord of the Netherworld Palace roared in fury, and all nine rings simultaneously emitted a blood-red light. A three-headed, six-armed demon god phantom appeared at the center of the black vortex, while Su Yao's flute music was accompanied by the sounds of dragon roars and phoenix cries. The two forces collided in mid-air, the resulting shockwave leveling all buildings within a ten-mile radius. Taking advantage of the moment, Shen Xinghe unleashed a full-force sword strike, his heavy sword imbued with burning spiritual power, slashing towards the vortex. However, upon touching the demon god phantom, he was blasted dozens of feet away, spitting blood as he crashed heavily onto the broken walls.
Amidst the billowing blood mist, a sinister grin spread across the gaunt face of the Netherworld Palace Master. He raised his hand, summoning a massive white bone axe, while Su Yao's flute music reached its climax. The jade flute transformed completely into a golden dragon, its body coiling around Su Yao as it soared into the sky. This ultimate battle between good and evil, amidst the changing colors of heaven and earth, officially began its most tragic chapter.