Chapter 556

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

"Hehehe, now that it's come to this, you should know who I am?" Yuan Yang laughed in a strange, yin-yang manner.

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

Staring at Yuan Yang, I coldly said: "If my guess is correct. Three years ago, Yao Yirong was given a bewitching poison by Ou Yaofeng, and 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 heavily injured fifth martial brother to act."

Three years ago, I personally witnessed Ou Yaofeng applying the ** technique to Yao Yirong on the training field. I had always mistakenly thought it was Ou Yaofeng's infatuation with Yao Yirong's beauty. Now it seems Yuan Yang was forcing the heavily injured Yao Song to act. From QingSongShu's fragmentary 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. Thus, Ou Yaofeng's appearance was merely to disturb Yao Song's mind and provoke him into action.

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

Therefore, 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 respected and loved thus became a single person.

Yuan Yang's phantom suddenly fell silent; after a long while, he looked at me admiringly and said: "You are very smart, but no matter how smart you are, before absolute strength, even the most 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 instead laughed.

"That female ghost of yours is the soul of the previous Nine Heavens 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 Heavens soul had vanished. Moreover, while investigating the Nine Heavens soul, I happened to learn that you are actually the disciple of my second martial brother. According to correspondence with Wang Qingsong, I also located the second martial brother who had gone missing years ago."

"Originally, I only wanted to wait until everything was ready, gather the bone marrow of a 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 Legacy." Yuan Yang explained everything without sorrow or joy.

"But what you didn't expect is that the only variable was your adopted son Yuan Qiu, who couldn't bear his conscience's reproach, refused to follow your orders to poison us. Moreover, after you severed his tendons, relying on a surge of blood energy, he clung to his dying breath to tell us the secret of the Nine Heavens Maiden." All context has now been clarified; the mastermind behind everything is this Yuan Yang.

I flew into a rage: "Don't you think you're too cold-blooded? Yuan Qiu is your adopted son, my master and Yao Song are your martial brothers—doing this, aren't you afraid of leaving a name cursed for all ages?"

"Hahaha… To achieve great deeds, even close kin can be slain; when I accomplish fame, history will be mine to write. How could what remains be a name cursed for all ages?" Yuan Yang, standing before me, said coldly.

"Man does, heaven sees; you, a cultivator, truly think one can hide heaven and cross the sea in a lifetime?" Murong Jiaja's graceful figure drifted out from the dark jade.

"Hmph, when has heavenly justice ever been fair? In the mortal world, isn't it all about belts of gold for murder and arson, building bridges and roads without corpses?" Yuan Yang gazed at Murong Jiaja, first bursting into loud 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 spread his hands, I silently thought, "Oh no." However, my reaction was still a bit slow; I saw him raise one hand, and Murong Jiaja was sucked into him by Yuan Yang.

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

"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.

And just then, within the desolate space a violent surge occurred; the bronze weapons fallen on the ground floated in midair. Shriveled hands struggled out of the soil. As the skeletal corpses gripped their weapons, towering figures clad in black armor, surrounded by black aura, appeared before me.

In just a few minutes, the heavenly abode space already held at least thousands of soldiers, the cold wind biting, resentment filling the sky; these troops gripped their weapons, expressionless, marching toward me.

Yuan Yang was indeed refining 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 energy; they had long lost reason, now merely walking corpses that know only how to kill.

"Qin sweeps **, unifies the realm, sweeps the eight wastes, who can stand… kill, kill, kill." I had already drawn the cold iron great blade; Bai Qi's enormous phantom loomed behind me.

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

"Kill…" A roar 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, looking down upon all beings, unafraid, those corpse soldiers seething with resentment appeared utterly insignificant in my eyes.

I moved as if through an uninhabited realm, slaughtering wildly among the corpse soldiers; I was still myself, yet not myself. I retained clear awareness, but my body had been taken over by Bai Qi. Under Bai Qi's influence, watching countless corpses fall, I seemed to return to an ancient battlefield; the pleasure slaughter brought me was wonderfully exquisite.

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

"Kill…" Blade and spear clashed, yet this time I failed to slay that commander. Although Bai Qi had strengthened my power, my physique still limited Bai Qi's strength.

A hint of anxiety began to rise in my heart; Bai Qi feared I would fall into demonic path because of him, so he dared not fully control my body. Yet the combined force of these six warriors 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 constrained by the six black-horse commanders, I found myself trapped in their formation; watching time slip away, my heart grew ever more anxious.

"Three-eyed cave cleaves worldly affairs, law governs humanity, unjust gods… hai!"

An earth-shaking explosive shout rang out; crimson fire crows streaked down from the sky like meteors, crashing onto the battlefield where resentment raged heaven-high.

A figure appeared on this desolate battlefield, wielding a two-person trident and clad in crimson armor. When the figure flickered in and out of view, a scorching aura spread through the air—so fierce, so overbearing and boundless.

"Pangzi, you"—that figure strode toward 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, laughing demeanor, replaced by a fierce, glaring wrath; as our eyes locked, my body involuntarily began to tremble.

"Hehe, I felt Huaguang Ancestral Master's golden mace lacked menace, so I deliberately switched to a two-person trident. Now that you see me, can you tell whether I'm invoking Huaguang Ancestral Master or Erlang Zhenjun?" Pangzi hehe-laughed, then seemed to recall something, his eyes narrowing hatefully at me as he cursed: "You rotten egg bastard, daring to drug me in wine—fortunately, my lord Wang Ye's physique is tough enough, 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 as if blocked by something; I called out Pangzi's name, but only tears came out.

"Are we brothers?" Three-eyed Pangzi broke into a grin at me, his double-edged trident then cleaved a soldier's skull, the question posed so casually and naturally.

"Yes…" I replied without hesitation.

Gazing at his awe-inspiring presence, tears streamed from my eyes. Though he now seems invincible, once Huaguang Ancestral Master's dharma body departs, he will instantly age; the lifespan he has expended is beyond my imagination.

"Since we are 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 waved his double-edged 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 how they had just emerged, that altar seemed to lead into the depths of the grand formation.

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

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

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

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

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

I stumbled in an instant, caught off guard, and swayed as I fell into the whirlpool.

…Damn Pangzi, even now he hasn't forgotten to screw me over.