Chapter 284

"Should I call you Yuan Yang, or Yao Song?" Looking at the figure ahead, I was unusually calm. Although the appearance was Yao Song, I could be absolutely certain that this was Yuan Yang's soul.

"Hehe, by now you should know who I am?" Yuan Yang laughed sinisterly.

"No," I shook my head firmly. "You are Yuan Yang, but at least three years ago, you were not yet Yuan Yang. Yao Song, you remain Yao Song."

Staring at Yuan Yang, I coldly said: "If I'm not mistaken. Three years ago, Yao Yirong was given a bewitching curse by Ou Yaofeng; all this was your doing. The fundamental reason is not that Ou Yaofeng was infatuated with Yao Yirong's beauty, but that you were forcing the severely injured fifth martial brother to act."

Three years ago, I personally witnessed on the training field Ou Yaofeng casting a soul-confusing spell on Yao Yirong. I had always mistakenly thought it was Ou Yaofeng infatuated with Yao Yirong's beauty. Now it seems Yuan Yang was forcing the severely injured Yao Song to act. From QingSongShu's few words, I learned that back then Yao Song and Yuan Yang fought to mutual destruction. Yao Song suffered severe injuries and could not recklessly use his spiritual power. Therefore, Ou Yaofeng's appearance was merely to disturb Yao Song's mind and force him to act.

So how did Yuan Yang become Yao Song, and how did he fake his death? This brings up something: back when we were in Yichang, Wu Fei used a soul-separation technique, forcibly splitting half of his soul and attaching it to a corpse soldier.

Thus, three years ago Yao Song was still Yao Song, and Yuan Yang was still Yuan Yang, but from the moment I rescued Yirong, Yuan Yang had already taken control of Yao Song. The father whom Yao Yirong and Yao Wenju deeply loved thus became one person.

Yuan Yang's phantom suddenly fell silent; after a long while, he looked at me admiringly and said: "You are very clever, but no matter how clever you are, facing absolute strength, even heavenly strategies are nothing but ants."

"What you say is correct; the Ou Yaofeng of those days was merely a pawn I used to disturb Yao Song's mind. Yao Song was already severely injured; seeing his beloved daughter humiliated, he would naturally not stand idly by. I ambushed him then and took over his body." Seeing that I had exposed his plot, Yuan Yang laughed instead.

"That female ghost of yours is the soul of the previous Nine Heavenly Maiden. She has been guarding beneath the Yao family manor, waiting for me to successfully seize Yao Song's body, only to discover that the Nine Heavenly Soul had vanished. Moreover, in the course of tracking down the Nine Heavenly Soul, I happened to learn that you are actually the disciple of my second martial brother. According to correspondence with Wang Qingsong, I also found the whereabouts of my second martial brother who had gone missing years ago."

"Originally, I only wanted to wait until everything was ready, gather the spiritual bone marrow of one hundred and eight ten spirit children, refine it for Yirong, then openly emerge from behind and kill you personally. But I didn't expect you to be fated to clash with me, always getting involved in my affairs. In that case, I will simply use your hand to collect the Wu Mu's Legacy." Yuan Yang explained everything without joy or sorrow.

"But what you didn't expect is that the only variable was your adopted son Yuan Qiu; he couldn't bear the guilt, so he disobeyed your orders to poison us. Moreover, after you severed his tendons, relying on a surge of blood and qi, he clung to life to tell us the secret of the Nine Heavenly Maiden." All context is now clear; the mastermind behind everything is this Yuan Yang.

I couldn't contain my anger: "Don't you think you're too cold-hearted? Yuan Qiu is your adopted son, and my master and Yao Song are your martial brothers—do you not fear leaving a name cursed for all ages?"

"Hahaha... To achieve greatness, even kin can be slain; when I attain fame and success, history will be written by me. What remains will hardly be a name cursed for all ages." Yuan Yang, standing before me, said coldly.

"Man does, heaven watches; as a cultivator, do you truly think one can deceive heaven and escape earth in a lifetime?" Murong Jiaja's graceful figure drifted out from the dark jade.

"Hmph, when has heaven ever been just? In the mortal world, isn't it all about wealth and honor from killing and arson, building bridges and roads without corpses?" Yuan Yang gazed at Murong Jiaja, first bursting into laughter, then a flash of delight crossed his eyes: "Earlier I didn't take you because I feared you would shatter your soul, but now that you have come to the heavenly abode I created, you have no choice."

As Yuan Yang extended his hand, I silently thought, "Uh-oh." Yet my reaction was a beat slow; I saw him raise one hand, and Murong Jiaja was sucked into him.

"You bastard," I reached out to grasp Murong Jiaja's fading silhouette, but the space twisted at that moment, and she vanished swiftly.

"If I were you, instead of wasting words here, you'd better think about how to escape," he jeered, his mocking laughter fading with the distortion of space, and Yuan Yang had already disappeared.

At that very moment, a violent surge stirred the barren space; the bronze weapons fallen on the ground floated in midair. Shriveled hands struggled out of the soil. As the skeletal remains grasped their weapons, stern black-armored soldiers, wrapped in dark qi, appeared before me.

Within just a few minutes, the heavenly abode teemed with at least several thousand soldiers; the wind was bitter, resentment soared to the heavens, these troops gripped their weapons, expressionless, and marched toward me.

Yuan Yang was indeed forging soldiers, using the obsessions attached to ancient weapons to recreate the army of the Great Song. These obsessions, formed in the yin eye, corroded by yin qi, had long lost reason; they are now nothing but walking corpses that know only how to kill.

"Qin sweeps the six directions, unifies the world, sweeps the eight wildernesses—who can stand against it… kill, kill, kill." I had drawn the cold iron great blade; the massive phantom of Bai Qi loomed behind me.

At the moment they closed in around me, I felt no fear whatsoever. As Bai Qi's soul merged into my body, a surge of hot blood expanded in my chest.

A roar of "Kill!" burst from my throat; the blade's light flashed, countless heads rolled. Bai Qi's power was terrifying indeed; at the instant I raised the blade to the heavens, I became the sole sovereign of heaven and earth, overlooking all beings, unafraid—those resentful, towering corpse soldiers seemed utterly insignificant in my eyes.

I moved as if through an uninhabited realm, slashing and carving through the corpse soldiers; I was myself, yet not myself. I retained clear awareness, but my body was under Bai Qi's control. Affected by Bai Qi, watching countless corpses fall, I felt as if I had returned to an ancient battlefield; the pleasure slaughter brought me was wonderfully exquisite.

My eyes bloodshot, I had become a killing machine, slaughtering freely among the resurrected corpse soldiers. To halt my advance, waves of spatial distortion twisted; six leaders mounted on black horses, wielding long spears, appeared on a distant altar, charging at me on horseback.

"Kill!"—the clash of blade and spear, yet this time I failed to slay that commander. Although Bai Qi had amplified my strength, my physique still limited his power.

A hint of anxiety began to rise in my heart; Bai Qi feared I would fall into demonhood because of him, so he dared not fully dominate my body. Yet the combined force of these six soldiers that appeared could actually match me blow for blow.

With a limit of one hour, can I truly defeat them and reach that distant altar?

I fought desperately, yet restrained by the six black-horse commanders, I was trapped in their formation; as time slipped away, my anxiety grew ever stronger.

"Three-eyed cave slices worldly affairs, law governs the unjust deities… Hai!"

A earth-shaking explosive shout rang out; scarlet fire crows streaked across the sky, falling like meteors onto the battlefield where resentment raged to the heavens.

A figure wielding a double-blade trident and clad in red armor appeared on this desolate battlefield. When the figure flickered in and out, a scorching aura spread through the air—so ferocious, so overbearing and boundless.

"Pangzi, you…" that figure approached me, and I instantly widened my eyes.

This tall, upright fiery red figure was none other than Pangzi; at this moment Pangzi had lost his usual lazy, hehe-haha demeanor, replaced by a fierce, glaring majesty; as our eyes met, my body involuntarily began to tremble.

"Hehe, I felt the Golden Cudgel of the Huaguang Ancestral Master lacked menace, so I deliberately switched to a double-blade trident. Now that you see me, can you tell whether I'm invoking the Huaguang Ancestral Master or Erlang Shen?" Pangzi chuckled, then seemed to recall something, his eyes locking onto mine with a vicious glare as he cursed: "You rotten egg bastard, daring to drug me in wine—fortunately my constitution as a prince is tough, otherwise I couldn't have made it to this show."

Though his voice was also boundlessly overbearing, that unique tone still let me regain a hint of familiarity.

"Pangzi..." On the desolate battlefield, my throat felt clogged; I called out to Pangzi, but only tears came forth.

"Are we brothers?" Three-eyed Pangzi broke into a grin at me; his double-blade trident then sliced off a soldier's head, the question posed so casually and naturally.

"Yes……" I replied without hesitation.

Gazing at his awe-inspiring presence, tears streamed down my eyes. Though he now seems invincible, once the Dharma form of the Huaguang Ancestral Master departs, he will instantly age; the lifespan he has expended is beyond my imagination.

"Since we're brothers, let's brave the mountain of blades and sea of fire together; toss aside my debts, and I'll settle them with you later." He swept his double-blade trident, Pangzi shielding me in front: "Now, go to the altar; I'll take care of these rotten tomatoes."

Without the slightest hesitation, I sprinted full speed toward the altar where those commanders had appeared; judging from their earlier manifestation, the altar seemed to lead to the depths of the great formation.

Arriving at the place they had appeared, a vortex expanded beneath my feet; I glanced back at Pangzi, and tears welled up in my eyes unbidden.

In this life, you have never truly left me, no matter the circumstance. You once said we would scale the mountain of blades and plunge into the sea of fire; it turns out you have kept even a jesting promise in your heart.

"Hey hey hey, don't rush off so fast, I still have business!" Pangzi's imposing figure, while holding off the six horsemen commanders, leapt aside and shouted at me.

I was bewildered, yet Pangzi let out a flamboyant shout at me—indeed, it was a flamboyant shout, utterly at odds with his martial bearing.

"Got your phone? Take a pic for me; later I'll use it to pick up girls."

I stumbled in an instant, caught off guard, and swayed as I toppled into the vortex.

…Damn Pangzi, even at this moment he still doesn't forget to screw me over.

Yinshan Official Group: 373215008.