Chapter 216: Step Back, and the Crowd…

A streak of invisible escape light,

flew through the sky at a speed slightly exceeding that of a peak Qi Refining Layer Nine cultivator.

Flying birds were not startled, beasts of the field were not seen.

Neither divine sense nor gaze could detect the slightest trace.

"The center of the battlefield…"

Jiang Ding Zi murmured.

The viewpoints of ten thousand animals—rune-crafted birds and insects—distributed within a fifty-li radius continuously surfaced in his sea of consciousness, swiftly processed and transformed into various pieces of information.

Like an extremely efficient computer.

Soon, he flew toward a central point.

……

Han Lin's gaze flickered almost imperceptibly as he retreated behind the crowd.

His cultivation at Qi Refining Layer Three perfectly matched the progress of someone with Four Spiritual Roots; his actions were utterly unremarkable among the group, taken merely as a cultivator of meager magic power who had fallen slightly behind in speed.

"Faster!"

"A bit faster!"

A Qi Refining Layer Seven senior brother from Lei Feng Peak urged repeatedly, his brow impatient, not even glancing back at Han Lin and the other low-cultivation disciples who had fallen a few steps behind.

"Gather around Junior Martial Uncle-Grandmaster as quickly as possible, or we'll be in danger!"

"Yes, Senior Brother!"

The other four or five mid-Qi-Refining disciples' expressions hardened; they too seemed to have learned the gravity of the situation from their elders, and spared no magic power in quickening their pace.

Han Lin and the other disciples of humble realm had no masters to speak of, and thus appeared somewhat bewildered.

Seeing the others pull away, they scrambled desperately to catch up, but were still gradually left behind, unable to hide a flash of terror on their faces.

"Senior Brothers, wait!"

Someone pleaded, but no one ahead responded.

The cultivators cast Wind-Riding Arts and sped along swiftly; trees, rocks, and mountains flashed backward as they converged toward the Xiang Qiyu Sect emblem.

Until they passed the edge of an utterly unremarkable pond.

Han Lin's steps slowed once more, his lips moved, and he covertly prepared some spell.

The instant the Qi Refining Layer Seven Lei Feng Peak senior brother passed by.

Splash!

Water exploded upward; a ferocious black-furred corpse lunged at him, claws like iron, exhaling black smoke that could melt gold and dissolve bone, laced with deadly poison—mere contact of divine sense was enough to make one dizzy and faint.

"Not good!"

The Lei Feng Peak Qi Refining Layer Seven cultivator's expression changed drastically; in an instant he summoned a Yi Mian Zhong Pin tortoise-shell artifact to block before him.

Creak!

Amid a teeth-grinding sound, the black-furred corpse's claws raked across the tortoise shell.

Vast showers of sparks and spiritual light sprayed in all directions; when the foul-smelling black smoke sprayed over them, the spiritual light immediately dimmed considerably, and dense mildew-like specks appeared on the shield's surface—appearing and vanishing in turn.

After a deadlock of several breaths, he withstood the assault, and with magic power to spare, cleaned away each speck of mildew one by one.

"Finally…"

The Lei Feng Peak senior brother breathed a sigh of relief and was about to survey the nearby battlefield when a pair of black-furred hands, like gold, like iron, clamped over his face.

"No, mercy! I'm willing to—"

He cried in terror.

Bang!

The black-furred hands smashed his skull so that brain matter burst forth and spilled from his eye sockets, yet the entire cranium remained perfectly intact.

"Gaga, late-stage Qi Refining, one!"

The black smoke dispersed,

and the crowd finally saw clearly: it was a half-man, half-corpse burly man, cackling grotesquely as he pocketed the Lei Feng Peak senior brother's storage bag, then rather tenderly stowed the corpse into another storage bag heavy with yin qi.

"A Qi Refining Layer Eight cultivator!"

The remaining Xiang Qiyu Sect disciples were greatly horrified and fled in panic in all directions.

"Think you can escape?"

The burly man sneered disdainfully, yet did not give chase.

"No! When did you—"

A dozen-odd Xiang Qiyu Sect disciples stared in terror at their surroundings as the ground churned and burst open, and in an instant seven or eight mid-Qi-Refining black-robed cultivators emerged.

Each one had a black-furred corpse of cultivation roughly equal to his own, and with clear division of labor, they blocked the disciples' paths.

"Falling Thunder Art!"

"Minor Fireball Art!"

"Earth Spike Art!"

In their panic, they did not lose their wits; Yi Dao Dao Fa spells bombarded wildly in the blink of an eye, blasting the black-furred corpses ahead into pulped flesh and shattered bone.

But after a few moments' delay, multiple black-furred corpses had already closed in around them.

Moreover, spells such as Decaying Cloud Art, Corpse-Poison Art, and Bone Arrow Art encircled them, obscuring their bearings, their shields teetering on the brink of collapse.

In the span of only three or four breaths, the dozen-odd Xiang Qiyu Sect disciples were on the verge of annihilation.

"Run!"

Han Lin happened to stand just outside the encirclement; seeing this, his expression changed drastically. Clutching a flight talisman, he transformed into a streak of escape light far exceeding a Qi Refining Layer Seven cultivator's speed and flew into the distance.

"Interesting—a mere Qi Refining Layer Three cultivator actually has such a fine treasure."

The half-corpse burly man grew a little interested and rose to give chase.

"Damn!"

Han Lin, without looking back, took out a winged talisman treasure. A large surge of magic power at the seventh layer of Qi Refining poured into it, no longer bothering to conceal anything.

"Ah!"

"What the hell is this thing?"

Just then, shrill screams came from behind. Han Lin instinctively turned his head and felt a chill shoot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

A pale blue sword Qi.

No one knew where it came from. It leapt among the Xuetudian disciples—one flicker and a head fell, a great geyser of blood spraying out.

Zombies blocked the way, poison fog, bone spears and the like blocked the way, slow as snails. The pale blue sword Qi passed through them in a single flicker, piercing straight through—utterly useless against it.

In the blink of an eye, only one Xuetudian disciple remained.

"Where did that sword Qi come from? What the hell are you?!"

The half-corpse burly man's heart was seized with terror. He summoned layer upon layer of bone fragments for protection, then deployed an upper-grade chain magic artifact to wrap himself round and round, and finally poured magic power into a pitch-black shield.

Only after stacking three layers of defenses did he have the leisure to look around, his divine sense frantically scanning every spot.

Nothing at all.

After the pale blue sword Qi slew eight or nine people, its spiritual light had only dimmed by a fraction, and it shot straight toward him.

"I refuse to believe a single sword Qi can do anything to me!"

The half-corpse burly man growled low.

He ordered the eighth-layer Qi Refining zombie to charge forward, and while maintaining his defenses, fired bone-cone spells one after another at that pale blue sword Qi.

Whoosh!

The pale blue sword Qi made no attempt to dodge, passing straight through.

The half-corpse burly man's body went rigid; a great hole appeared in his forehead.

Behind him, the black-haired zombie—whose defense was far stronger than an eighth-layer Qi Refining cultivator's—along with the bone-fragment artifact and the chain artifact, all collapsed helplessly and fell.

The pale blue sword Qi's spiritual light still had more than half remaining, and it vanished on its own into the air.

"L-Little Martial Uncle…"

Han Lin's voice trembled slightly. He instinctively recalled the moment he had first seen the other party—a youth in blue robes in that broken-down temple.

"Han Lin?"

"Do me a favor and clean this up. I'll give you half a share for travel expenses."

A familiar voice sounded in his ear.

"Yes, boss! No—Little Martial Uncle!"

Han Lin answered instinctively.

He didn't decline the way he would with other high-ranking cultivators, because he knew this was absolutely real, not some test, and the other party would absolutely not be displeased afterward or strike from the shadows.

"Mm, thanks."

Seven or eight hundred meters away, Jiang Ding nodded and continued flying toward the center of the battlefield.

He was very short on money.

A custom aerial warfighter—a wonderful thing that could greatly boost his ability to stay alive.

Every bit of money he could save was a bit more.

But he couldn't drop his stealth over a few spirit stones and place himself in unknown danger.

This arrangement was just right.

Having someone help clean the battlefield, only needing to pay a little travel expense.

(End of this chapter)