Chapter 63: Fleeing for Life

"Sigh, I never had high hopes for you, but you’re not just weak—you’re utterly foolish! The Eight Immortals shooting the sun is a deadly mission where failure means death."

"The team battle has reached its fiercest moment, yet you dare to lose focus and leave the formation to go off on your own 'hunting'."

Xiao Yu glanced at the severed palm once and immediately guessed what had happened.

She had sensed it long before.

After all, this was the 'Eight Immortals Shooting the Sun'—and the 'sun' being shot was none other than Great Qin’s 'Fiery Sun'!

If Zhou Lang and Madame Feng could deduce Kong Zan’s death the moment the Flag Gate Escape Array shifted, how could the three thousand Fire Crow formation, positioned at the array’s core and under concentrated assault, possibly remain unaware?

Who is the Fiery Sun Marquis?

Never mind his personal strength—he received elite military education from the Central Civilization, joined the ranks at thirteen, and fought for Great Qin for eight full years. How could such an experienced 'young veteran' miss a golden opportunity?

In truth, the Fiery Sun Marquis’s reaction was slightly slower than Xiao Yu had expected.

Whether he was uncertain or plotting something else, she couldn’t tell.

"Amateur. Too amateur. The Western Eight Immortals didn’t just lose their own lives—they shamed all Western nations. No wonder the Central Civilization looks down on us, calls us barbarians."

Xiao Yu shook her head, muttering to herself as she used the Dragon Maw Sword to sift through the nearby corpses.

She didn’t know Madame Feng well, but she’d heard the woman possessed a signature magic treasure called the 'Wind Sack,' capable of storing and releasing all kinds of wind.

The corpse fragments had scattered right around her—too great a loss to miss.

"Fiery... Sun... Marquis!"

Madame Feng hovered midair, turned into an arrow target by the Fiery Sun Marquis—witnessed not only by Zhou Lang but also by several other Western cultivators who hadn’t strayed. Their roars carried bitter hatred, yet also confusion and absurdity.

They had the advantage—so why had two key cultivators died so suddenly, so pathetically, so inexplicably?

"Sssssss~"

From nearby, the Fiery Sun Marquis’s camp launched wave after wave of flaming arrows—like rocket salvos—tearing through the air with piercing shrieks, raining down in dense volleys toward the north.

This time, it wasn’t just one arrow—there were seventy or eighty, forming a continuous cloud of fire.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Even from afar, Xiao Yu could see the hilltop to the north nearly ignited, the explosions echoing like rolling thunder.

"Miss Xiao, what are you looking for? It seems someone’s approaching again."

Duan Yuhuan was truly brave.

Despite the consecutive upheavals—all massive in scale—he hadn’t fled. He still followed Xiao Yu, helping her observe the surroundings.

"Uncle Duan, have you ever seen Madame Feng? What does her Wind Sack look like?"

Xiao Yu didn’t ask who was coming.

She now understood the Flag Gate Escape Array somewhat, had regained her sense of direction and spatial awareness, and could see farther and clearer than Duan Yuhuan, who relied on the Ghost Path.

The approaching figure was Zhou Lang of the Bo Yue Sect.

He too was searching for the Wind Sack, rummaging through Madame Feng’s scattered remains.

"Even when I was alive, I’d heard of Madame Feng’s fame. She was renowned throughout the Western nations—countless princes and nobles adored her."

"Twenty years ago, I was still a boy, and she was already the number one beauty of our Western lands!"

"But I never met her in person, and I didn’t know anything about her Wind Sack."

"So the number one beauty from twenty years ago isn’t anymore?"

"Twenty years ago, she was the number one beauty of the martial world. But once she became a cultivator, no one would compare her to mortal women anymore—they called her 'Madame Feng Immortal.' After she married, they called her 'Madame Feng'... Ah! Miss Xiao, he’s coming! Be careful!"

Xiao Yu feigned confusion. "Who’s coming? Did you see clearly?"

"It’s too far... I can’t make him out... Miss Xiao, wait—I’ll get closer to see."

"No need." Xiao Yu quickly stopped him. "Let me call out to him."

"You know who he is?" Duan Yuhuan asked, puzzled.

Xiao Yu cleared her throat and shouted toward Zhou Lang, fifteen zhang away: "Father! Father! Is that you?"

Zhou Lang had been seething ever since Xiao Yu slipped away multiple times like a mockery—and now Madame Feng was dead.

Hearing the cry, he snapped back irritably: "Of course it’s your father!"

Though the figure was blurred, barely visible, he still pointed his right hand toward the sound’s origin: "Boom!"

Again came the 'Bo Yue Infinite Sword Qi,' crushing opponents with vast true qi.

Xiao Yu dodged clumsily—deliberately failing to fully evade—and gritted her teeth, turning her body into a sword, her bone core brimming with the Tiger Soul’s divine intent, absorbing part of the Bo Yue Sword Qi.

"Puh~"

She blocked it—but her mouth filled with coppery blood, and she spat out a bloody wad.

"Miss Xiao, why are you calling him 'Father' again?! He’s a villain—you must avoid him!"

Duan Yuhuan was anxious, even slightly angry.

Xiao Yu said gravely: "I can’t see clearly, but I suspect he’s likely a villain."

"But 'likely' isn’t 'certain.'"

"As the saying goes: fear not the ten thousand, fear only the one in ten thousand."

"My adoptive father has just been slain—right nearby."

"Given his deep affection for me, if he heard the battle, how could he not come to check?"

"If he rushed to find me, and I mistook him for a villain and unleashed the Tiger Soul Seven Kill, a technique that harms spirits and gods, and committed an irreversible, unforgivable sin—what then?"

"Calling out might misidentify him—but it will never harm my adoptive father."

Duan Yuhuan believed her.

He had personally felt the ferocity of the Tiger Soul Seven Kill... and before that, his son Guisheng had described the terrifying 'Fierce Tiger Form' Xiao Yu could assume.

Even when Xiao Yu wasn’t targeting him, even when he stood three zhang away, the black-and-red demonic aura swirling around her giant sword form still pierced his soul-body with pain, threatening to shatter it apart.

"Sigh, only someone as filial as Miss Xiao could think so thoroughly. I was rude just now," Duan Yuhuan bowed deeply to Xiao Yu.

"I’m not ungrateful—I know you meant well, Uncle Duan."

Xiao Yu replied to Duan Yuhuan, but inside, she felt both joy and worry.

Joy: Zhou Lang had finally taken the bait.

Worry: her Purple Mansion’s calculations weren’t progressing smoothly.

She had fed her insights into Zhou Lang’s sword techniques, intent, and qi into the Purple Mansion—and it immediately identified the flaws in his attacks, intent, and qi.

But to kill Zhou Lang, the Purple Mansion now hit a stall.

"Zhou Lang must have a powerful defensive technique—his immortal sword art likely integrates offense and defense as one!"

"The flaws the Purple Mansion found are only in his offensive moves—not his defense. This is troublesome..."

Xiao Yu was troubled, but not surprised.

Kong Zan, who relied purely on strange arts without any magic treasure or protective spells—like a common man with supernatural powers—was the one who surprised her.

Wait—Xiao Yu was mistaken. Kong Zan wasn’t just a common man with supernatural powers.

He had cultivated breathing and qi-refining techniques, and his internal qi arts were extremely high-grade—nearly transcending the boundary between martial and immortal arts, bordering on true cultivation methods.

But his breathing techniques mainly manipulated cosmic qi, strengthening his body only as a side effect—he never hardened his body into unbreakable steel.

Moreover, Kong Zan wasn’t without defensive techniques.

He had cultivated the far more powerful Yin Spirit—his body was merely a magical vessel.

As long as his Yin Spirit endured, even fatal wounds to his body didn’t matter.

Only when Xiao Yu severed his head did Kong Zan truly rage—his magical vessel destroyed!

Worse still, Xiao Yu’s Tiger Soul Seven Kill was an immortal martial art designed to slay spirits and gods.

"Little brat, stop hiding! Come out and die!"

Having evaded Xiao Yu again with ease, Zhou Lang’s composure cracked. He began wildly expelling true qi, unleashing vast waves of sharp sword qi in all directions.

"Wait until this fool exhausts himself—then I might find an opening..."

Xiao Yu watched calmly from afar, occasionally stepping forward deliberately to block part of the sword qi with her sword.

It gave Zhou Lang positive feedback to keep him reckless—and let her study his immortal sword principles further.

"Miss Xiao, let’s go—he’s too fierce!"

Seeing Xiao Yu’s lips bleeding from the sword qi, Duan Yuhuan—who knew no martial arts—grew deeply anxious.

"Sigh, the back courtyard is so small—where can we run? The front has become a battlefield, we can’t go there; the slope behind is ambushed, we dare not climb."

While she tangled with Zhou Lang, the three thousand Fire Crow formation in the front courtyard had fully activated. From afar, a vast sea of crimson fire blazed, with endless flaming arrows soaring from it, leaving thunderous fire trails across nearby hills.

In comparison, the back courtyard—only filled with Zhou Lang’s unchecked rage and sword qi—felt quieter, safer.

"Dou Yilin, if not now, when?!"

Suddenly, from the northwest, Lei Yuanzi let out a long howl—filled with fury, frustration, and desperation.

The Jade-Faced Wenqu fell silent for a moment, then thundered across the land: "Master Miao, act now!"

"Got it!" Master Miao’s voice came from the east, right on the slope near Xiao Yu.

"Master Miao, wait~"

Zhou Lang shouted urgently, abandoning Xiao Yu entirely, and shot off on his sword toward the slope.

"Those stupid Western Eight Immortals—they’re about to unleash a massive technique, with enormous range, surely affecting the back courtyard—otherwise Zhou Lang wouldn’t be so panicked!"

Xiao Yu’s mind churned. She wanted to flee—but didn’t know where.

"Stupid Western Eight Immortals—they don’t even understand the tactic of 'three sides besieged, one side left open.' They’re giving no one a chance to live."

"Miss Xiao, it’s raining," said Duan Yuhuan.

"Pitter-patter-patter-patter~~~"

It wasn’t just rain—it was as if heaven itself stood above, pouring buckets of water onto the earth.

"Damn, they're going to flood Feixian Ferry!"

Xiao Yu cursed, running forward as she shouted, "Uncle Duan, hurry and find somewhere to hide—flooding’s coming soon!"

Duan Yuhang hesitated; though he was a ghost, he wasn’t a water ghost, and he genuinely feared water.

The Hualong River ran right beside Feixian Ferry—if he were swept into it by the flood, he’d never return.

But his benefactor hadn’t escaped yet—how could he abandon him?

Xiao Yu seemed to guess his thoughts and added at once: "Don’t worry about me—I have a way to save myself. But my method won’t work for you. I’m going to the military camp, and the camp’s lethal energy will harm you."

"They’ll let you in?"

"Of course they will—because I have this!"

Xiao Yu picked up Kong Zan’s lifeless, wide-eyed head and grinned: "This is my key to the door."

"But the camp’s in the front courtyard—you still can’t avoid it," said Duan Yuhang.

"If Marshal Lieyang can be drowned by water, then I’ll die where I belong—with no regrets."

In truth, she wasn’t afraid of being flooded—ordinary water couldn’t kill her at all.

But Master Miao was only one of the Eight Immortals; flooding wouldn’t be the whole of it.