Chapter 220

But before those flying boats reached close range, Wang Yu noticed something was wrong.

Why were these flying boats moving so frantically, with no formation at all? And the disciples from the Four Sects on the lead boats all wore expressions of terror, constantly glancing back.

At almost the same moment, from the same direction on the horizon, a thunderous roar pierced the sky as more densely packed flying boats emerged. Most of these boats were white bone vessels wrapped in black mist, while a few others were bizarrely shaped, inscribed with demonic markings.

On these boats rode two to three hundred demonic disciples, each eagerly urging their magical artifacts forward as they chased the fleeing Four Sect boats.

The fastest of the demonic bone boats had their cultivators launching magical daggers, spears, and other artifacts across the distance, striking the lagging Four Sect vessels from afar.

The disciples on the trailing boats had no intention of fighting; they merely released defensive artifacts and spells, pouring most of their spiritual power into their flying boats in a desperate bid to go faster.

Wang Yu was utterly baffled.

Although the demonic boats and cultivators outnumbered the Four Sect side by more than double, they shouldn't be fleeing in such utter disarray, with no resistance at all.

As he muttered to himself, the next instant, a disturbance erupted above the Four Sect fleet—a rolling wave of black mist burst forth, from which descended a colossal bone hand the size of a pavilion, its five fingers spreading as it swept downward.

Each finger resembled a massive pillar, sweeping across and snatching up six or seven fleeing boats, then clenching shut.

Of the disciples on those boats, only a few who activated secret techniques managed to leap off in time; most, like the boats themselves, were crushed to pulp by the giant bone hand.

"Foundation Establishment cultivator."

Wang Yu, witnessing this, could not help but cry out.

He instantly understood what had happened. Without hesitation, he shook his sleeve, and a blood-red talisman flew out, igniting in the wind and enveloping him in a pool of crimson light.

The next moment, Wang Yu felt a faint metallic stench in the surrounding bloodlight, his body engulfed by terrifying spiritual power, involuntarily transforming into a crimson streak of light that shot away in the opposite direction from Zhu Wuyan.

After several flashes, the streak vanished beyond the horizon.

At that moment, another colossal bone hand emerged above the fleet, slamming down again and crushing several more spiritual boats to fragments.

Seeing this, the remaining Four Sect disciples scattered like birds startled by a bowstring, abandoning all cohesion and fleeing in every direction.

But due to the two giant bone hands blocking their path, several lagging Four Sect vessels were overtaken by the demonic boats, and within moments, they were drowned under a storm of magical artifacts and spells.

The demonic fleet immediately split into seven or eight smaller groups, each pursuing the largest streams of fleeing Four Sect boats.

Only about seven or eight of the largest white bone boats remained motionless in the distance, where dozens of Black Soul Sect disciples waited as if expecting something.

Moments later, rolling black mist surged forward from behind those bone boats.

Within the mist, a massive white bone throne floated, upon which sat a towering white bone demon, several zhang in length, with four arms, lounging lazily.

"Bow to the Ancestor."

All the Black Soul Sect disciples on the boats bowed deeply before the giant white bone demon.

"Rise. First, crush these Four Sect disciples so they dare not approach the mountain's center—only then can I safely investigate what Master Jialan left behind. Why did he make so many preparations in this realm, all pointing to the same location?"

"Heh. Seems interesting. Not a waste of the great cost I paid to enter." The giant white bone demon spoke coolly, then waved his hand.

"Ancestor is wise. We deliberately lured these Four Sect disciples together, then struck down their two top disciples, shattering their will to fight and driving them here in flight." A black-robed middle-aged man on the bone boat bowed respectfully.

"If the Ancestor would strike two more times, not a single Four Sect disciple would escape."

"Hmph. Strike two more times? Do you think my avatar can freely unleash power in this realm? Its Foundation Establishment spiritual power is limited, and it cannot regenerate any power above Foundation Establishment here. I must preserve some spiritual energy to retrieve Master Jialan's treasure."

"Besides, our demonic sect has declined generation after generation. Aside from you, I haven't seen a single other true disciple on this journey—not even from other sects. Pathetic." The white bone demon glanced at the man, his tone laced with cold contempt.

"Forgive me, Ancestor. I've only managed to contact two true disciples—one from the Joy Palace, one from the Demon Luo Sect. I haven't reached a single one from our own sect."

"According to disciples from other sects who defected, many of our true disciples have already been killed by powerful figures from the Four Sects." The black-robed man replied hastily.

"Only two? Fine. Two will do. Order them to rush to the mountain's center and join us immediately."

"As for those true disciples killed by their enemies—they never deserved the title. When we return, I will personally select a new batch of stronger disciples to replace them." The giant white bone demon rumbled, his face showing impatience.

"As the Ancestor commands," the man bowed deeply.

"By the way, what of that little madman from the Demon Luo Sect? Any word on him?"

"With his strength, when he goes berserk, even Foundation Establishment cultivators avoid fighting him—otherwise, how could he have surpassed several Foundation Establishment disciples in the Demon Luo Sect and ranked third among their true disciples?" The white bone demon asked, a hint of admiration in his voice.