Chapter 473: They Are All Waiting, Dare You Come? (4K8)

"Seems not bad?"

Shen Yi loosened his palm, dispersing the eerie gray-white armor.

The surrounding great formation quickly closed in, settling once more upon his heart.

He had originally been reluctant to delve deep into formations.

After all, most situations he faced now had no one to buy him time, allowing him to calmly set up a great formation.

Learning some shallow formations for emergencies was one thing, but a spiritual formation like this, consuming terrifying lifespans, Shen Yi felt the cost-benefit ratio was somewhat low.

But the situation was clearly different now.

This Return-to-Void Immortal Armor Formation was actually carved onto the body, usable at any time; the item the former Nanyang Sect Master brought out was indeed the best fit for close-quarters combat.

Moreover, he had just slightly felt its effect.

At the very least, it would not be weaker than Xiang Tianyan's Sijiu.

"Hah."

Shen Yi adjusted his breathing, looking at the remaining demon lifespans.

【Remaining Demon Lifespan: 427,000 years】

The biggest difference between the Return-to-Void Immortal Armor Formation and Xiang Tianyan's Sijiu was that, after detaching from Li Xuanqing's realization, relying solely on his own deduction, Xiang Tianyan's Sijiu made absolutely no progress, and almost forced that pile of demon remnants to scatter and vanish.

But the Return-to-Void Immortal Armor Formation... it was just slow.

If there is progress, that means it can be deduced!

Before Shen Yi even began to mobilize the demon lifespans, he already felt a wave of nausea and vomiting.

If he remembered correctly, for techniques requiring the brain, he had previously deduced at most only tens of thousands of years, such as the level of the Li Huo Fen Xin Palm, but in the face of true Return-to-Void Spiritual Arts, it was a mere pygmy compared to a giant.

He returned once more to that mountain peak.

He sat cross-legged again.

Vast demon lifespans poured madly into the spiritual formation.

【Year One: You once again attempt to contact the more vast parts of this spiritual formation. The realizations of predecessors that once supported your cultivation are now useless. You begin to recall the formation diagrams you memorized for over ten thousand years, trying to find patterns in those dull and tedious years, drawing inferences from one instance.】

As the demon lifespans flowed away.

The black robe fell silent; the handsome features on the youth's Bai Xi face gradually became grotesque.

Sweat poured like rain, instantly soaking his entire body.

When his expression returned to calm, those clear eyes were quickly filled with confusion, making the whole person look somewhat dazed.

Talent is insufficient, yet one forcibly cultivates a Spiritual Art.

This is behavior that would be mocked within the Xian Sect.

All living beings in the world have their own Dao; forcibly stepping onto a path that does not belong to oneself will only result in being shattered into pieces, and success is utterly impossible.

Unless... one possesses time far beyond that of ordinary people.

Day and night alternated.

The panel had long since stopped deducing.

Yet Shen Yi's eyes still held no light, as if he had turned into a statue.

As his fingertips trembled slightly.

He staggered to his feet, then collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, vomiting madly, as if he were about to spit out his Dao Infant and five viscera.

A Return-to-Void cultivator, even with various heavenly treasures and earthly gems, lives no more than fifty thousand years.

Spending one's entire life researching a single method already counts as a rare stubborn type.

A full 220,000 years of sitting in confusion and stagnation, gathered into a short span of time.

It nearly destroyed Shen Yi's sanity.

If the panel had not shouldered ninety-nine percent of the pressure, feedbacking only a minuscule amount onto him, he would likely have become a fool by now.

【Return-to-Void (Spiritual): Return-to-Void Immortal Armor Formation: Minor Success】

【Remaining Demon Lifespan: 207,000 years】

Shen Yi wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, extending a hand that shook like a sieve, black mist and golden threads spilling from his fingertips.

He panted heavily, the corner of his mouth, just wiped clean, stained again with blood.

Fortunately, his hand finally stabilized.

A formation diagram drawn on the body like this absolutely allows for no slightest mistake.

At the very moment he began drawing the formation diagram on his heart.

Shen Yi's entire person seemed to enter some mysterious state; his fingertips were steady as a rock, and the golden threads, guided by his soul, were accurate by an unknown number of times compared to before.

There was not the slightest pause, flowing smoothly like a surging Dahe.

Effortless.

The brush tip stopped, the great formation completed.

Inside the Ancestral Master Hall.

Li Qingfeng leaned against a pillar in fear, wiping the sweat from his forehead with force.

Shen Zongzhu did not know where he had gone to cultivate, and the communication jade slip could not reach him.

The only person he could find was this senior Li Xuanqing.

The Chen family elders, along with many officials from Qinghai Prefecture, had already brought the people of Xiao Family Fortress back, settling them in Dahe.

He had originally come to report this matter to Li Qingfeng, but unexpectedly, this young immortal had received a letter from someone, and subsequently became like this.

"You... you all go out first."

Li Qingfeng forced calmness, waving his sleeve to let everyone leave.

"Hmm." The Nanyang Sect stewards exchanged glances; after all, they were newcomers and had done nothing for Nanyang Sect, so they dared not press further. Upon hearing this, they all bowed respectfully and quietly withdrew from the hall.

"..."

Li Qingfeng exhaled, then approached Li Xuanqing: "Could I trouble the elder to help me find the Zongzhu? I have urgent news to report."

"He is likely in cultivation."

Li Xuanqing opened his eyes, recalling the qi fluctuations he had sensed earlier—clearly, the Zongzhu had made new progress.

"If convenient, you could tell me first."

He might not be able to help much, but he could certainly offer advice.

"There's no question of convenient or not."

Li Qingfeng lowered his head, helplessly sat on the ground, and pulled a sealed letter from his sleeve.

The letter bore no identity markings.

Yet from its tone, Li Qingfeng deduced the sender's identity: it was Liu Qianyun, a steward of Qingyue Sect.

"The Long Gong's aquatic races have destroyed four land-and-water domains, including the Chen family, Gui Sect, Qinghai Prefecture, and Shuiyueshang Alliance."

"The disciples of the Chen family and Qinghai Prefecture had evacuated beforehand, suffering no casualties; Gui Sect was utterly wiped out; the Shuiyueshang Alliance's floating island was destroyed. Its leader, Wen Qiujin, received word in advance and fled with the patrons to the Yan family."

"The Seven Sons of Yu Nanhong... are waiting for news from Shen Zongzhu."

As the saying goes: only insiders truly understand their own affairs.

Li Qingfeng did not conceal anything; within the entire Nanyang Nanyang Baodi, the only one who could still lend Shen Zongzhu a hand was the elder before him.

He could not comprehend: "What do you mean waiting for Shen Zongzhu's orders? The Long Gong has struck—do they really need his command before daring to retaliate?"

Even though Li Qingfeng rarely left the Nanyang Baodi, he had learned from Qingyue Sect's stewards who came to lecture that Hongze was the Long Gong's territory.

Why did the Seven Sons of Yu Nanhong stand together in life and death? Precisely to resist the aquatic races and secure a place to settle in Yu Nanhong.

"Because it is most likely not the Long Gong."

Li Xuanqing shook his head calmly and advised: "They are merely intimidating you. Of course, the messenger may be low-ranking, simply terrified, and turned into someone else's blade."

"It could not have been the Long Gong's order. To truly strike at the Seven Sons of Yu Nanhong, the Southern Long Gong alone is insufficient—it would require at least one more ally. If that were the case, Nanyang Sect would never be informed."

Perhaps the words are harsh, but they are the truth.

In a true life-or-death crisis, the current Nanyang Sect is utterly useless.

"So it's not as serious as I thought?" Li Qingfeng finally sighed in relief.

Yet Li Xuanqing shook his head again: "If we speak purely of Nanyang Sect, it may be even more serious than you imagine—even if not ordered by the Long Gong, it must be some demon within the Long Gong."

The four factions mentioned in the letter are precisely those Shen Zongzhu has recently contacted.

If this matter is not resolved, the recovery of the 182 families is now certain to fail.

The one who planned this must be a Bai Yujing cultivator.

The opponent need not appear in person, nor even seek demonic aid—merely leaking a few details could reduce Nanyang Sect to its former state.

Of course, there is another way out.

That is to invoke the words left behind by the Liudaxian Sect after the gate was knocked upon.

The six sects' gates still remain open to Shen Yi.

Li Xuanqing paused, then drew his Dao token, first detailing the entire matter, then adding: "Go to the Yan family—there may still be room for negotiation."

The Yan family was once a vassal of Nanyang Sect, later taken over by Qingyue Sect.

Ranked among the top four of the 182 families, they host a Bai Yujing cultivator.

The next moment, Li Qingfeng suddenly lifted his gaze.

Only then did the sect's formation open wide, and a figure treading on a dark, mystical sword shot out beyond the sect's boundaries in an instant.

The Chen family and Qinghai Prefecture members, who had just dispersed, gathered again, puzzled: "What's going on?"

Won't Lord Shen need anyone to assist with mundane tasks this time?

Li Qingfeng looked at the crowd outside the hall with a complex expression, unsure whether to inform them. As for the Chen family, never mind—but Qinghai Prefecture had indeed sent its disciples to Nanyang Sect, though they had not yet arrived... who knew what might happen on the way?

Remember, Qinghai Prefecture had transferred nearly all its cultivators to Nanyang Sect as stewards.

Lingyun Sect.

Though the sect's disciples did not know what had happened, they sensed an odd, unnatural tension.

The outer sect elders and stewards suddenly lost their smiles, their faces grim.

The occasional inner disciples seen in daily life now returned to their caves, sealed within, as if awaiting something.

Finally, a figure in golden-threaded white robes swept across the sky.

Under the startled gazes of countless peers, the Zongzhu's direct disciple departed the sect without hesitation.

"Has Brother Wei Yuanzhou left the mountain?"

The inner sect disciples merely felt curious, but the inner disciples and elders seated in their caves slowly furrowed their brows.

This matter has nothing to do with Lingyun Sect.

But they will surely benefit.

At such a moment, when no one knew who was behind the scheme, Wei Yuanzhou had stepped forward.

Whether he aids Nanyang Sect or seeks to destroy it...

The first bird shot down, the tallest tree draws the wind.

He will surely offend countless others.

This is not a rational move.

Meanwhile.

Within Qingyue Sect, it was still Liu Qianyun and the others—only now, the one surrounded in the center was the grim-faced Yan Wencheng.

"Yan Shidi, what did your family say? Did they reply to your letter?"

Liu Qianyun was clearly anxious, for she had noticed that even her father, the elder, could not intervene at all in this matter.

It was agreed that the Seven Disciples Assembly would be held three months from now.

Less than a month has passed, and already someone can't sit still.

"They replied."

Yan Wencheng looked at the two women and let out a bitter laugh: "Vague, no clear answer… but at least better than the other three families—they've temporarily rescued the people of the Shuiyueshang Alliance."

Even this intervention happened only because I wrote to my family and mentioned some things about Shen Zongzhu.

"Let's go! Go take a look!"

Zheng Qian clenched her teeth; though she could offer no help, just waiting passively in the sect was driving her mad!

"All right, I'd like to speak face-to-face with my clan uncle as well."

Yan Wencheng nodded and followed Zheng Qian as they left Qingyue Sect.

With different thoughts in mind, figures shot out beyond the boundaries of the Southern Hong Seven Disciples, all heading toward the Shuiyueshang Alliance.

At this moment.

Shen Yi stood atop his black-glowing Xuan Sword, glancing at the water-tribe demon, Zhen Shi, at his side: "Who gave you this information?"

He wasn't afraid of trouble, but at least he needed to know who was behind it.

"My lord, we do not know. That jade slip appeared silently before the Hall Master, its aura completely concealed—its realm is beyond mortal comprehension. It knew of your feud with the Dragonfish Hall, and merely told us where you are."

The fish demon stood respectfully behind Shen Yi.

"..."

Shen Yi fell silent for a moment.

Compared to the petty disturbances of Lingyun Sect last time, these Bai Yujing cultivators are infinitely more treacherous, and their targets far more precise.

They don't care whether you live or die—they only want the Nanyang treasure land.

"Who will avenge you?"

Forget it—focus on what's before you first.

Shen Yi wasn't certain of Yan family's stance; this journey was primarily to locate the disciples from Qinghai Prefecture.

"Besides his only daughter, the Hall Master actually has an adopted son—but his talent was so astonishingly extraordinary that even as a child, the Southern Long Gong took notice and came to take him away. The Hall Master dared not claim such a connection, so he never publicly acknowledged it."

"Precisely because of this adopted son, the Dragonfish Hall was able to establish ties with the Long Gong."

"He is a prodigy comparable to a direct disciple of a Xian Sect—born of humble origins, yet renowned far and wide. My lord should have heard of him: General Dao Hai of the Southern Long Gong, same age as the Hall Master's daughter, yet already a demon rivaling a Killed Fanxu eighth-layer cultivator."

"Huh."

Shen Yi had never heard that name, but if he remembered correctly, the girl in the red dress last time was only Killed Fanxu second-layer.

Yet… Wen Qiujin had said the array on the floating island could only be broken by a Killed Fanxu full-layer cultivator.

If the Shuiyueshang Alliance was destroyed, it doesn't seem like only General Dao Hai was involved.

The floating island where the Shuiyueshang Alliance stood was now shattered, drifting atop Wang Yang.

The once towering, luxurious pavilions had vanished entirely.

Along the endless horizon of Wang Yang, countless figures hovered—clothed and adorned differently, their cultivation realms uneven.

They all stared solemnly toward the floating island.

The reason they dared to gather so close:

Far off, a vast array stretched across the sky, encompassing over a hundred massive treasure ships.

On the foremost treasure ship:

Wen Qiujin stood frozen, his face blank with disbelief.

The Shuiyueshang Alliance had never made enemies with the water tribes, nor had it ever withheld tribute—every treasure ship bound for delivery always prepared its share for the Long Gong's troops before departure.

Using the names of the Southern Hong Seven Disciples and the Long Gong, they deterred other water tribes and minimized the risk of cargo theft.

When he received word from his scouts that the Chen family, Qinghai Prefecture, and Gui Sect had all been destroyed:

Wen Qiujin did not hesitate—he led the Shuiyueshang Alliance cultivators and fled the scene at once, seeking aid from the Yan family.

Then he helplessly watched his life's accumulation destroyed in an instant.

"Elder Yan."

He turned to the side: "What are they…?"

"Don't ask. Don't interfere. This is no matter for you to join. As for worldly possessions, you should understand better than I do."

The man called Elder Yan was an old man in a long robe.

All the cultivators around recognized his name.

Yan family: Yan Xingyuan.

A cultivator who had reached Killed Fanxu eleventh-layer—already at the pinnacle in this region of Southern Hong.

"..."

Hearing this, Wen Qiujin no longer asked why they still lingered here, or what they were waiting for.

He simply stepped back quietly.

Under the gaze of so many cultivators, only two figures remained on the floating island.

The first was a young man, clad in full armor, wearing a silver crown.

He carried no weapon—only sat cross-legged, hands empty.

Behind him stood a black-backed jiao demon, its lifespan clearly nearing its end, arms crossed, eyes half-closed.

Neither emitted any aura—yet they silenced every surrounding cultivator.

The fame of General Dao Hai of the South Long Gong was forged entirely in a sea of blood, with no admixture of falsehood.

He was like a rabid mad dog, with no background whatsoever, wanting only to pile up corpses to build his standing within the South Long Gong.

But today, he had not brought any soldiers.

He came alone and wiped out four powers in succession.

As for the black-backed flood dragon behind him, his fame was obscure, his face unfamiliar, but this was all the more terrifying — it meant he was one of the most elite veterans the South Long Gong had ever retired, only the passage of time was so long that cultivators had already forgotten his fearsome name.

The two great demons of the Long Gong did not move.

Yan Xingyuan did not move either.

They stood in standoff like this, as if waiting for someone to arrive.

Even though neither side knew whether that person would dare to come.

"Look, who is that!"

On the clouds, Liu Qianyun and the others had hurried over, about to head toward Yan Xingyuan, when they were suddenly pulled back by Zheng Qian.

They raised their eyes to look, and their hearts suddenly leapt.

They saw, in a place no one had noticed, a robe of white silk threaded with gold swaying gently.

He had not deliberately concealed his aura.

It was only because he stood too high that the others simply could not see him.

Like an immortal deity, gazing down upon the mortal world.

Wei Yuanzhou, the Cloud-Flowing Sage — a being such as this was actually also waiting in silence.

(End of chapter)