Chapter 97

As Xingyu Xian summoned the avatar of Peacock King Xingxuan, a single strike instantly slew the flesh bodies of several fickle Witch Ghost Dao ghost immortals; the brawling crowd halted at once, and when Saint Tu Yuan of the Essence Origin God Temple appeared in the sky, none dared act rashly—but one thing stayed the same: still few noticed Zhou Shuo, as everyone's eyes were fixed on Tu Yuan and Xingxuan above.

Although Peacock King Xingxuan had only manifested an avatar, he was still no ordinary foe; he seized the Qiankun Pouch, and after taking a strike of Tu Yuan's Diblood Divine Thunder, he suffered little harm—but because he held the Qiankun Pouch, he instantly became the target, and moreover, as soon as he arrived he provoked the Divine Eagle King, who in an instant burst forth a cluster of golden light and clashed with him.

"Attack!" Bi Shihua let out a wild howl; as he howled, Nalan Hai and Nalan Yanluo beside him simultaneously unleashed their arts, throwing their staff and black-and-white flying swords into the air, where they hovered instantly, emitting countless gusts of yin wind that carried innumerable whispers of darkness and destructive will, as if some will had descended into the mortal realm.

"Heavenly Devil God, Great Destruction God?" Saint Tu Yuan, seeing the black-and-white flying swords and staff hovering in the sky, instinctively rose to his feet; this foreign ghost immortal, though his beard flowed long, stood two meters tall, like a hulk, and he drew a curved blade, slashing his own arm.

A hiss—fresh blood surged from the old man's body like a geyser; as the blood fell through the air, a gust of yin wind blew it, instantly forming a massive hand—not forged of any elemental power, nor a thought-illusion, but a solid hand of flesh and blood, which reached out from afar to seize the staff and flying swords that were exhaling countless yin thoughts.

The huge palm clenched the staff and flying swords, which were as thin as toothpicks; as its five fingers closed, a bang rang out—like a bomb detonating—and the hand burst into a spray of blood that flew outward; within that drifting blood mist, two towering figures appeared: one with eight arms and three eyes, his body pitch black; the other with six arms and three heads, each bearing a different expression. As soon as they appeared, the field fell silent, and everyone felt their hairs stand on end.

"Oh no, it's the Great Destruction God and Heavenly Devil God of the Profound Heaven Pavilion! Everyone, be careful." The old man in gray robes, wielding a ruler-like weapon in both hands, let out a long howl, calling everyone's spirits back; the two figures that had descended via the staff and flying swords were not human, but spirits nurtured by incense in the Profound Heaven Pavilion, each possessing the strength of a ghost‑immortal expert.

"Damn, the Profound Heaven Pavilion really spared no expense." Zhou Shuo took advantage of the chaos, seizing the six corpse emperors that had fallen after their masters' bodies were cut down, and staring at the figures in the blood mist, he couldn't help but widen his eyes.

"Mortal, you dare provoke me? You're dead." The eight‑armed, three‑eyed Great Destruction God, his skin pitch black, wearing a flower‑jade crown and bearing twin wings behind him, gazed down at Saint Tu Yuan seated on his flying carpet; he swept his eight shoulders‑mounted arms, instantly releasing several shafts of crystal light that carried endless destructive desire toward his foe.

"Hahaha, not bad—there's actually this much blood food." The six‑armed, three‑headed Heavenly Devil God, each face showing a different expression, let out a grating kek laugh, lunged downward at once, and flung out countless sheets of thick darkness; before this darkness, everyone felt themselves continually shrinking.

"Cease your wantonness!" A great shout rang out, its sound wave rippling; the endless, heavy darkness shattered instantly, light returned to the world, and the Champion Marquis, who had somehow cast off the Jingren Monk, stood amid the crowd, shattering the Heavenly Devil God's art with a mighty roar.

"Kek, a martial sage—nice, a fine sacrifice." Though the Heavenly Devil God's art had been dispelled, he felt no fear, still swooping down from the sky and heading straight for the Champion Marquis—yet he never expected his opponent to neither dodge nor evade, simply allowing him to crash through.

"Kid, you're dead…" The Heavenly Devil God gazed at the unprepared youth who neither dodged nor braced himself, killing intent flaring in his heart—yet just as he lunged forward and made contact, he was unprepared for a sudden flash of golden light.

"Ah…" A sharp golden radiance shot up from the ground, and before the Heavenly Devil God could touch the Champion Marquis, he was instantly cleaved in two by the golden light bursting from within the latter.

"Damn, this sword light…" Zhou Shuo stared at the sword light that suddenly burst from within the Champion Marquis's body, and at the obvious incense spirit who had just taken a hit, his body split in two and flung into the air—the Heavenly Devil God—his eyes widening; that golden light was piercing sword qi, the Champion Marquis's trump‑card lifesaving Panhuang Spirit Sword, not a condensation of thought but actual sword qi, perhaps better called sword light.

"Panhuang Spirit Sword." Many recognized the Champion Marquis's hidden trump card; Xingyu Xian looked at the golden light bursting from his body and couldn't help but scream, her voice tinged with disbelief—not just her, but even the Jingren Monk and many others nearby were startled by this; the Panhuang Spirit Sword is the personal side‑blade of Saint Emperor Pan—how could such a weapon end up in this youth's hands?

"My lord, quickly use the sword light to aid me!" A clear eagle cry rang out from the heavens, recalling everyone's attention—but the face of the Champion Marquis, the very party involved, had turned slightly stiff.

"Don't be afraid, the Panhuang Spirit Sword is the Saint Emperor's blade, inheriting the holy way; this Champion Marquis is licentious and bold, lacking a saint's will, so he cannot draw the Panhuang Spirit Sword until the final moment." Xingxuan's voice came down from above, explaining why the Champion Marquis's face had stiffened—he cannot wield the Panhuang Spirit Sword; it only activates when his life is in danger.

"Xingxuan, go die!" The Divine Eagle King in the heavens, somewhat exasperated, spat out his golden light beads—now round, now flattened—shooting forth countless golden rays that wove into a net to blanket the sky, hoping to press Xingxuan down.

"General Bi, take the Qiankun Pouch and go." Although Xingxuan's strength far surpassed that of the Divine Eagle King, he was merely an avatar; pressed down by the Eagle King's suckling‑level force, he offered no resistance, simply descended and tossed his Qiankun Pouch to Bi Shihua.

"Go." Bi Shihua, tall and broad, caught the Qiankun Pouch flung by Xingxuan in one hand, then turned and led Nalan Hai, Nalan Yanluo, Xingyu Xian and the others in retreat.

"Chase after him—I must get that Qiankun Pouch in hand." Though the Champion Marquis could not draw the Panhuang Spirit Sword, his martial‑sage cultivation was genuine; taking advantage of the moment Xingxuan fell, he lunged forward and shattered him with a single punch, while Xingxuan tossed five sword pellets to his daughter before calmly accepting the blow that broke him apart—after all, he was only an avatar.

In an instant, as the Qiankun Pouch landed in the hands of the Black Wolf King Bi Shihua, the treasure‑hunting frenzy on the wilderness surged to its peak; a chase erupted, with Bi Shihua and the other Yunmeng experts leading the way, the Champion Marquis and his Daqian allies following behind, even the Jingren Monk joining the pursuit—for he had to act, the remaining disciples of the Great Chan Temple were all inside that Qiankun Pouch, and if he lost it, the temple would truly be gone.

"Leave the Qiankun Pouch with me." Because he held the Qiankun Pouch, the Black Wolf King Bi Shihua instantly became the target of all; whether it was Tu Yuan flying in the sky or the several ghost immortals below, they all unleashed their arts in unison, blasting him.

"Hahaha, why go to such lengths, Hall Master Nalan?" Bi Shihua, a stout man of the Zang region, having just received the Qiankun Pouch, let out a proud roar, simultaneously shaking his wolf‑hide great banner, whence a layer of green light rose from his cloak to block the myriad arts behind him, and swinging his great axe backward, he summoned a gale‑tornado laden with sulfur, destruction, and heat that swept toward the rear, as if seeking to blow heaven and earth into an apocalypse.

Bi Shihua unleashed the apocalyptic gale, and at the same time a call rang out; hearing his voice, Nalan Yanluo immediately understood, reached into her bosom for a violet jade tablet, tossed it casually to the roadside, and the party surged forward—while the massive tornado behind them was shattered by the bombardments of the several ghost immortals in the rear, and the crowd followed suit.

"Watch out for the Apocalypse Sigil." The Divine Eagle King's sharp voice rang down from heaven; those who had broken through the wind barrier and were readying to pursue suddenly faltered in their steps, then retreated en masse, and immediately the sky brightened as a mu‑sized orange‑red mushroom cloud rose.

"Hahaha." Bi Shihua, seeing the mushroom cloud rise behind him, could not help but burst into loud laughter.

"General Bi, you didn't even kill one—stop laughing, we need to hurry." Nalan Yanluo looked at the exultant Wolf King, her brows faintly knitting.

"Let General Bi have his fun…… who is it?" Nalan Hai stood to the side, smiling as he urged his fellow disciples, but before he could finish speaking, he involuntarily let out a loud shout as an unknown humanoid black shadow lunged at him.

Five humanoid black shadows emerged from nowhere, each lunging at Xingyu Xian, Bi Shihua, Nalan Hai, Nalan Yanluo, and a gold‑crowned man; these five top‑tier Yunmeng experts were instantly enveloped in mist and clouds, but Nalan Yanluo, Nalan Hai, and Xingyu Xian reacted first, unleashing arts to disperse the incoming shadows, whereas Bi Shihua and his companion, trying to repel them with pure martial force, fell short.

"General Bi." Xingyu Xian wanted to help at once, but the air suddenly rang with a grating kek laugh; strands of yin thought materialized out of thin air, forming several muscular‑clad bodhisattvas trampling dragons and elephants, each gripping a fist as large as a water jar, and they dealt a solid blow to every Yunmeng expert—whether freed or still bound—sending Bi Shihua and the Yunmeng martial artist spitting blood and flying backward, while Xingyu Xian and the two Profound Heaven Pavilion hall masters were merely blown away without coughing blood.

"Gold Grain God, I #@￥#." The Destruction Hall Master Nalan Yanluo, while being flung backward, blurted out unintelligible Yunmeng language; even though it couldn't be understood, from her expression of anger beyond description, one could see that it was certainly not any words of praise.