Chapter 631

Qin Li Shixian struck out in fury, his spear coiling like a dragon, stirring layers of air waves; Shen Shen Qisheng held his sword, aura swirling around him, defending but not attacking.

Both were Grand Masters of the Yuan He Yi Jing, their essence, energy, and spirit flowing in perfect harmony—body was spirit, spirit was body; they controlled their true qi with exquisite precision, directing most of their force onto each other.

Yet the air waves unleashed by their spear and sword clashes were no less violent than a great storm.

Even hundreds of meters away, the streets beneath them trembled violently, as if ready to collapse at any moment.

"Is that Shen Shen Qisheng?"

"Lord Qin is fighting him."

"Ignore him—first capture and kill the Gan Emperor!"

Long Long Yingchan and Yuan Qing Daoist burst from the imperial palace, exchanged a glance, and without hesitation transformed into streaks of light, flying toward the place outside the city where incense smoke rose thickly.

All present were sharp-minded; though they did not know what ritual the imperial court intended to perform, they could not stand idly by.

…

Om~

One hundred and thirty li beyond the imperial capital, beyond a dense forest, the Gan Emperor stood with hands hanging at his sides upon a raised platform, and around the platform, over a hundred Yun Xiang Ding vibrated violently.

Streams of incense smoke rose like beacon fires into the sky, undispersed even by howling winds, instead subtly merging into one.

"Brother Wu, what kind of ritual is this…?"

Outside the forest, Wang Jin, clad in heavy armor, stood shoulder to shoulder with Wu Wu Yingxing, expression solemn as they gazed at the Gan Emperor atop the platform; amidst the swirling incense smoke of the altar, both felt an inexplicable chilling aura.

This aura made both men's hearts race with dread.

If they felt this way, how much more so the thousand elite imperial guards behind them? These armored, weapon-wielding guards now struggled to maintain formation, overwhelmed by invisible pressure, all wishing only to keep their distance.

"The Emperor did not inform us; we only know this ritual comes from the Yun Mo Clan…"

Wu Wu Yingxing looked at the ritual platform with a complex expression, his mind far from calm.

Learning that the imperial lineage was in fact an alien race from beyond the stars—even though he had served the imperial court for generations—he simply could not accept it as easily as Wang Jin did.

In fact, the imperial court had been in turmoil for a long time after that revelation, and many died, including high-ranking ministers and veteran Grand Masters.

Even though the Gan Emperor crushed that unrest with Lei Ting force, its ripples had not yet subsided; even the two of them had been caught in the fallout—if things had been as before, they would not have been forced to stand outside the sacrificial grounds, even if not on the platform.

"The Yun Mo Clan… that old devil harbors ill intent; the Emperor should never have trusted him—and the Prince…"

As Wang Jin spoke, he suddenly frowned, looking toward the direction of the imperial capital, his expression turning deadly: "The traitors have come!"

"They're not slow."

Wu Wu Yingxing drew a deep breath, suppressing his inner turmoil, and raised his eyes to the distant hilltop, shouting loudly:

"Yan Yan Tianxiong, it's your turn!"

On the distant hilltop, Yan Yan Tianxiong sat cross-legged; hearing this, he did not respond, only gazed at the strange spectacle above the imperial palace—two colors interwoven—and sighed:

"No wonder he's a peerless sovereign—Old Thousand-Eyes… the Fa Zhu is already falling behind so quickly. Truly terrifying."

As head of the Xieshen Sect, Yan Yan Tianxiong knew better than anyone the old devil's power; decades ago, when he had just reached Yuan He Yi Jing and thought himself accomplished, he had dared to spy—just one strike nearly shattered his spiritual realm.

Even after decades, he still trembled with lingering fear; even though his Wu Gong had advanced further, he dared not even consider spying again.

Now, seeing Thousand-Eyes on the defensive, he felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

Old bastard, you've had your day…

"Three years ago, that old devil took a heavy beating—supposedly from a joint effort with Wan Wan Zhuliu. Too bad that bastard Pang didn't kill him…"

Behind Yan Yan Tianxiong, the Crimson Hawk King sighed in regret: "Ah, that bastard Pang sees us as enemies. If it weren't for Old Qianyin holding the front line, I'd have been killed long ago!"

Boom!

As the two spoke, a distant thunderclap erupted—it was Wang Jin and Wu Wu Yingxing, receiving no reply, who leapt into the air, intercepting Long Long Yingchan and Yuan Qing Daoist as they charged forward.

Behind them, the thousand imperial guards formed a battle array, led by nine veteran Grand Masters, guarding the dense forest behind them.

"Fang Fang Sanyun is coming!"

The towering, dark-skinned Bai Xiang Wang spoke in a low voice.

"Then fight."

Yan Yan Tianxiong exhaled deeply but did not rise; he merely swept his sleeves, and powerful true qi burst from his body, rapidly merging with heaven and earth to form thick layers of true essence expanding outward.

Visible smoke and clouds coalesced behind him, faint figures flickering within.

"Yan Yan Tianxiong?"

Fang Fang Sanyun crossed the sky, his true qi blazing like fire, aura brimming with murderous intent.

"Go!"

Yan Yan Tianxiong suddenly rose; the smoke and clouds behind him exploded outward, and immediately dozens, even hundreds of figures surged forth—some growling, some sneering, some screaming curses.

They were the very demons long worshipped by the Xieshen Sect, once officially sanctioned by the imperial court!

"You dog of a thing, dare to order your Bone Elder?!"

"Call Thousand-Eyes!"

The demons surged from Yan Yan Tianxiong's spiritual realm; Gu Jin Gang's voice stood out sharply—he scanned the surroundings, instantly spotted Fang Fang Sanyun's murderous aura, and shouted even louder:

"You've got barely any incense—do you expect your Grandpa to fight a Grand Master?!"

"You—"

Yan Yan Tianxiong's face turned livid from the insults, but he ignored them, swept his sleeve, and retreated with the Hawk King and Bai Xiang Wang behind the demons.

"Damn!"

Gu Jin Gang was about to curse again when he suddenly yelled and dodged aside.

A deafening "Boom!" rang out—Fang Fang Sanyun came roaring forward, surrounded by explosive thunderclaps; from hundreds of zhang away, he raised his hand and unleashed a Crimson Sun Palm, sending the group of demons scattering with shrieks.

His Dari Jin Jing originated from Pang Pang Wenlong, perfectly countering these ghostly spirits who clung to life through incense.

If these were the Nine Fa Zhu-level demons, he'd have been cautious—but these ghosts, who couldn't even break into He Yi Jing while alive, even if there were dozens of them, he faced without the slightest fear.

Boom!

Roaring booms rang out as a great battle erupted beyond the dense forest in an instant.

On the high platform within the dense forest, Emperor Qian seemed utterly unaware, merely muttering under his breath, his ten fingers flying as he directed the columns of incense smoke rising into the air. At his waist, the Great Sun Jin Lin Bell swung like a little bell, ringing out with a "ding-ding-dang-dang" sound.

Gradually, the entire dense forest was enveloped within the incense smoke.

Hiss!

A streak of sword qi tore through the air.

Daoist Yuan Qing forced Wang Jin back, but the instant he stepped into the forest he swiftly retreated again, his expression shocked and furious:

"You Jing?!"

Boom!

Long Yin Dao raised a hand and sent Wu Wu Yingxing flying back. Mist swirled above his head as a dragon claw, roughly a mu in size, abruptly thrust out and clawed toward the dense forest—only to vanish into the mist with a soft "whoosh."

"It really is You Jing?!"

Exchanging a glance with Daoist Yuan Qing, Long Yin Dao's brows knit tight.

In that instant, even with senses as keen as theirs, they could no longer detect Emperor Qian's aura; moreover, the dense forest itself seemed to have vanished from the present world.

In its place was an ever-thickening aura of You Jing.

"Go!"

The moment the two lost focus, Wang Jin and Wu Wu Yingxing—who seemed to have been waiting for just this—flashed their bodies and vanished into the mist beyond the dense forest.

"Not right!"

Long Yin Dao was about to give chase, but then abruptly retreated.

"This is real You Jing?!"

The two fell back several li, only to see black mist surging like a sea before them, spreading outward in layers centered on that dense forest—in the blink of an eye it had already covered an area of more than ten li!

Wherever the black mist spread, it truly was identical to You Jing—even sunlight could not pierce through!

"What kind of ritual is this? To actually draw You Jing into the present world?!"

In the distance, several dozen Grandmaster-tier evil gods were being beaten into a panicked retreat by Fang Fang Sanyun. Yan Yan Tianxiong, who had been hiding to one side, felt his heart jolt and kept well away from the still-expanding ghostly mist.

The existence of You Jing was no secret to a group of Grandmasters, but You Jing descending into the present world—this was the first time any of them had witnessed it.

"Scram!"

Fang Fang Sanyun also sensed something was wrong. He raised a hand and blasted the eight-armed old ghost before him into powder, then leaped into the air and landed beside Long Yin Dao and the other man. Gazing at the surging, spreading ghostly mist, he struck out with a Scarlet Sun Palm.

This strike, he delivered with all his might.

Not only did true qi and true gang pour forth in torrents, but behind him a Great Sun spirit-image flickered in and out of view—he had clearly mobilized the power of his Shen Jing.

A tremendous "hong-long" roar rang out as the air within a dozen or so li was instantly emptied, and a visible crimson palm-print slammed down like a meteor.

But when that palm-print plunged into the ghostly mist, it only gave a faint "chi" and vanished like a clay ox into the sea.

"That's not right—even if we were truly inside You Jing, this old man's palm could still crack the ground for twenty li. This absolutely isn't pure You Jing…"

Fang Fang Sanyun's expression shifted:

"This looks more like…"

"Shen Jing!"

Long Yin Dao pinched his long brows, his face exceedingly ugly: "This is the Shen Jing of that old ghost inside Wan Wan Zhuliu!"

"Based on that boy Li Yuan's intelligence, this looks more like a Gui Ground!"

Daoist Yuan Qing also caught on, yet still seemed somewhat shaken and uncertain.

The Shen Jing is the very essence of a cultivator—the union of spirit and qi. A Grandmaster of He Yi Jing can further infuse the power of the Shen Jing into every gesture and movement.

But even for one at He Yi Jing, or even a powerhouse who has cultivated to the Divine Palace realm, the Shen Jing could not truly manifest in the present world, could it?

"It's the ritual Emperor Qian is performing!"

The three exchanged glances, then simultaneously leapt into the air and retreated, looking down from on high—only to feel even greater dread.

That patch of ghostly mist was still expanding toward the sky; at a glance it looked like a deep curtain of night about to swallow the heavens, turning day into night.

Even though all three were seasoned Grandmasters, they could not stop their eyelids from twitching wildly.

"A hundred li!"

Long Yin Dao's expression shifted. He retreated sharply and shouted toward the walls of the imperial capital: "Everyone, fall back!"

On the walls of the imperial capital, the true disciples and elders of the major sects had long since sensed something was wrong. Hearing Long Yin Dao's order, they retreated one after another.

He himself flashed his body and headed toward the imperial palace.

"This Gui Ground is still expanding!"

Daoist Yuan Qing's brows knit tight as he retreated again and again. The ghostly mist swelled with terrifying speed—in the blink of an eye it had already covered more than a hundred li and was bearing down on the walls of the imperial capital.

At its rate of expansion, it would likely take less than two shichen to swallow the entire imperial capital whole!

(End of this chapter)