Chapter 11

“Clap! Clap! Clap!” Just as Jiang Xia was trying to destroy the altar, applause came from behind him.

He turned to see a refined man in a black robe walking toward him with a smile.

Though the refined man emitted no spiritual energy, Jiang Xia felt pressure stronger than Su Changfeng’s by several times, making his grip on the sword tremble.

The refined man stopped ten meters from Jiang Xia and spoke: “No wonder Itachi’re an SSS-grade ability user—less than five days since awakening, and Itachi’ve already reduced my Cult of the Dark God’s disciples to this state.”

The refined man gently traced his finger along the token at his waist; the blood-red inscription on it gleamed coldly under the altar’s crimson glow.

His tone carried a hint of mockery: “Pity—Itachi’re still too young. Itachi think defeating a few lowlifes and saving a few candidates means anything?”

He snapped his fingers, and a dozen hooded figures with qi levels above Great Martial Master appeared behind him, advancing toward the candidates.

“These are the top-ranked seats from each city of our Cult of the Dark God. Let them play with those candidates.”

He glanced dismissively at the candidates who had just formed a formation, as if they were nothing but ants.

Jiang Xia’s pupils contracted; he gripped the Kusanagi Sword tighter, white lightning flickering along its blade: “Which seat are Itachi in the Cult of the Dark God?”

“First seat. The first seat of every branch.” The man smiled, his gaze sweeping over Wang Teng and the other still fighting in the distance, then returning to Jiang Xia.

“I’m Shen Wenru, in charge of activating the altar. I planned to wait until I captured Itachi before triggering it—but Itachi rushed in yourself and ruined many of my plans.”

His tone shifted abruptly, turning icy: “Still, it’s better this way. Killing an SSS-grade ability user myself is far more entertaining than watching the altar devour a bunch of brats.”

As he spoke, Shen Wenru vanished from his spot, reappearing instantly behind Jiang Xia.

His palm condensed a black-purple energy sphere, striking straight at Jiang Xia’s back.

Jiang Xia had anticipated it; using the speed of the Eight Gates’ “Opening Gate,” he sidestepped.

The Kusanagi Sword, blazing with Chidori’s light, slashed back—but only cut through a phantom image.

Shen Wenru’s speed was even faster than Jiang Xia’s with the Opening Gate activated!

“Quick reaction. But not enough.”

Shen Wenru’s voice came from another side; he flicked out several black energy blades, targeting Jiang Xia’s vital points.

Jiang Xia’s pupils spun rapidly with the Mangekyo Sharingan; the space around him warped, and the blades passed harmlessly through his afterimage.

They slammed into the altar’s stone pillars behind him, leaving deep black indentations.

“Space-based rules in the Rule System? Interesting. Blood Chains—Seal!”

As the words left his lips, crimson chains instantly bound Jiang Xia’s entire body, completely sealing his ability and spiritual power, leaving him motionless.

“At the same realm—even if Itachi were one level higher—I might not be able to touch Itachi. But right now? Just die quietly.”

Shen Wenru once again gathered a purple-black energy sphere in his palm and hurled it toward Jiang Xia.

At the last instant, a golden blade qi sliced through and collided with the purple energy, canceling it out.

“Who?!” Shen Wenru’s eyes flashed with shock and fury as he turned toward Jiang Xia’s rear.

From the altar’s shadow stepped a man in black combat gear, his long blade glowing with golden light.

Behind him, several powerful figures clad in Night Watcher uniforms charged toward the seats capturing the candidates.

The man in black combat gear glanced at Jiang Xia, trapped in the blood mist, and said gravely: “The Cult of the Dark God’s famed first seat, attacking a junior with lethal intent? How disgraceful.”

Seeing who it was, Shen Wenru gritted his teeth and spoke each word slowly: “Lu! Wu! Jiu! It’s Itachi!”

The man called Lu Wujiu ignored Shen Wenru, stepped forward, and slashed once—cutting through the chains binding Jiang Xia.

He spoke gently: “Itachi’re Jiang Xia, right? Changfeng told me about Itachi. Saving the other candidates, holding off Shen Wenru—excellent.”

Then he turned, raised his blade, and fixed his cold gaze on Shen Wenru: “But from now on, leave it to the Night Watchers.”

As he spoke, he surged forward, his blade wrapped in razor-sharp qi, reaching Shen Wenru in an instant.

Shen Wenru formed a black-purple shield to block it. “Clang!” The moment the blade qi struck the shield, a shockwave erupted.

The blast sent scattered stones flying and destabilized even the distant cultists and candidates still fighting.

With one strike, the black shield shattered. Shen Wenru’s arm went numb; he staggered back two steps, his eyes filled with wariness: “Itachi’re stronger than twenty years ago!”

Lu Wujiu said nothing. Golden spiritual energy flowed slowly along his blade’s edge, his aura rising steadily.

“Twenty years ago, Itachi barely escaped. Let’s see if Itachi can run this time!”

Before his words faded, he lunged again, his blade flashing like falling stars toward Shen Wenru.

Shen Wenru no longer dared to underestimate him; dozens of black energy blades wove into a net, while his palm gathered a purple-black light sphere, hurling it straight at Lu Wujiu’s chest.

Jiang Xia looked up at the battlefield; each time Lu Wujiu’s golden blade fell, it cleaved through Shen Wenru’s defenses.

But Shen Wenru’s movement was lightning-fast, always evading vital strikes—and occasionally countering, forcing Lu Wujiu to retreat and defend.

“I can’t let Senior Lu face him alone!” Jiang Xia gritted his teeth.

In a fleeting glance exchanged with Shen Wenru, he activated Tsukuyomi—but the illusion shattered after only half a second.

Yet even that half-second was enough for Lu Wujiu to seize the opening!

The golden blade accelerated suddenly, its glow exploding as it slashed straight at Shen Wenru’s left shoulder.

Shen Wenru had just broken free from the illusion when he felt a chill on his left shoulder—pain exploded instantly.

Blood gushed out, slowing his spiritual flow through his left arm.

After activating Tsukuyomi, Jiang Xia leaned on the Kusanagi Sword to stay upright; the half-second drain had emptied all his spiritual power, and the side effects of the Opening Gate began to set in.

Shen Wenru forcibly sealed his left shoulder wound with spiritual energy, raising his head to glare darkly at Lu Wujiu.

“Even the Commander-in-Chief of the Night Watchers resorts to such underhanded tricks?”

Lu Wujiu looked at him in surprise: “Everyone says I’m the strongest beneath the Five Saints. It seems everyone underestimated Itachi—I didn’t expect Itachi’ve reached Semi-Saint!”

Shen Wenru suddenly burst into mad laughter: “Itachi’ve got no idea what else I’ve got—like now, do Itachi really think I have no tricks left?”

As he spoke, the blood from the scattered cultist corpses surged toward the altar, and a narrow passage opened at its center.

“No! He’s connecting to the residual demonic beasts within human territory!”

Lu Wujiu’s face darkened; he raised his blade to charge and stop him—but Shen Wenru’s body erupted with thick black-purple spiritual energy.

It formed a barrier, enclosing both himself and the altar.

The blood surged faster; the passage at the altar’s center widened rapidly.

The next instant, two monstrous beings radiating Catastrophic-level qi emerged from the passage.

Jiang Xia stared at the two titans, stunned—these demonic beasts were far larger and more powerful than the fifth-rank monkey he’d faced in the Demon Beast Forest.

Lu Wujiu’s expression turned grave as he explained to Jiang Xia beside him: “These two are descendants of the Divine Beasts Kunpeng and Jiao Dragon.”

“I never thought they’d evolve into Catastrophic-level beings in just decades!”

“Stay back and hide. Hold on a little longer—the realm will open soon!”

With that, Lu Wujiu gripped his blade tightly; golden spiritual energy surged along its length as he slashed toward both the beasts and Shen Wenru.

The golden blade struck first at the closest beast, the Dark Rock Giant Crocodile. The light struck its dark-black carapace, sparking violently—but left only a faint white scar.

The Dark Rock Giant Crocodile roared in pain, lashing out with its massive tail, sweeping through the air with a deafening crack. Lu Wujiu barely sidestepped.

Nearby, the Black Feather Bone Peng flapped its wings, launching several black feathers that screamed toward Lu Wujiu’s back.