Chapter 369: The Immortal Spirit Was Seized by Ji You

“General, a far stronger aura is approaching!”

In the lifeless valley, a demon general suddenly turned to look at Chao Cang, who marched straight through the valley with spear in hand.

But Chao Cang showed no reaction, continuing to stare blankly ahead.

He had been just behind and to the right of Dan Ba, thrusting his long spear forward with the attack—until Dan Ba was struck, at which point he realized his mistake and forcibly retracted his spear’s power to evade the killing intent.

The force channeled into the spear snapped back, nearly breaking his arm; the pain in his arm bones was bearable, but the lingering dread in his heart was uncontrollable.

Because he knew clearly: if he had been the one standing in front, he would have died without doubt in that strike.

“General!”

With another low roar, Chao Cang finally snapped back to awareness.

In an instant, he sensed the aura rushing in from beyond the forest, and immediately locked his gaze as he waved his hand backward.

“Withdraw!”

“Yes!”

In an instant, over a dozen demon generals vanished swiftly along the black ridge line, roaring toward Yunzhou in the northeast.

As they left the dense forest, these demon generals exchanged no words, yet all turned back simultaneously to gaze at the figure holding the sword—their eyes filled with disbelief that refused to fade.

Meanwhile, the barbarians also sensed that powerful aura.

They forcibly shook off their shock at General Dan Ba’s defeat, immediately lifted the shattered body of the General-King, and vanished abruptly into the mountains and woods in the opposite direction.

The valley fell suddenly silent, leaving only the disheveled humans standing in the night.

At this moment, the Immortal Spirit tucked into Ji You’s arms glowed faintly through his tattered immortal robe, its vast immortal aura continuously spreading.

Yet neither the aristocratic faction aligned with the Heavenly Book Academy nor the one allied with Chen Shixian’s clan made a move to seize it.

“Ji You…”

In the silence, He Ye tightened his sleeve slightly and suddenly spoke.

They were closely tied to the Heavenly Book Academy, and Ji You was a disciple of that academy; in the heart of this He family lord, they ought to be able to speak with him.

Yet no sooner had the words left his mouth than Ji You, his eyes cold as ice, glanced at him—then stomped the ground, shattering the mountain rocks beneath him with a thunderous crash, and shot northward.

He understood the aristocrats’ tendency to bully the weak and fear the strong; he knew that in this moment, whoever had the strongest fist held the power—and he could come as he pleased and leave as he wished.

But once more people arrived, he wouldn’t be able to leave so easily.

As everyone watched Ji You suddenly soar into the sky, leaving behind a scorching aura that howled through heaven and earth, their expressions turned complex.

At the same time, a vast surge of spiritual energy roared down from the west.

Zuo Qiu Yang, accompanied by his sect’s Elders, was cutting through the forest, spiritual energy surging and churning beneath his feet.

“Where is it?”

“Report, Elder Ge, it’s in the western valley.”

“Are you certain the barbarians and demons teamed up to seize it?”

“We don’t know if they allied, but the He, Zuo Qiu, and You families, along with other aristocratic clans, were indeed surrounded—we left them all wounded.”

Wei Han, a disciple of the Administration Office, spoke hastily.

He was the one who had watched the battle from the forest, left a group to monitor the scene, then swiftly returned to the Heavenly Book Academy to report.

When he left, he had already seen the aristocrats surrounded, and had seen the overwhelming power of the General-King and the Heavenly Demon—he had been terrified, thinking the forest must already be littered with corpses, a horrific sight.

Elder Peng interjected: “Can we confirm this object truly came from the Ancient Sages’ Sacred Ground?”

“It definitely came from the Ancient Sages’ Sacred Ground.”

“Damn it…”

The Heavenly Book Academy’s Elders exchanged glances, their eyes filled with anxiety.

As He Ye had said, the Ancient Sages’ Sacred Ground had deep ties to the human race; anything flowing from it must be extraordinary—if it fell into the hands of demons or barbarians, it would surely become a root of disaster.

Yet what surprised them was that upon arriving at the forest valley’s edge, they found countless wounded being carried out—as if the battle had already ended.

This sight struck them with even greater unease.

The barbarian General-King, the demon Heavenly Demon—they knew that any one of them was nearly impossible for the Central Plains aristocrats to handle, let alone the countless War-Kings and Mystic Demons equal in strength to those clan lords.

“Brother Qin!”

“Brother Wei.”

The Administration Office disciples remaining in the forest were also evacuating; at that moment, a disciple surnamed Qin heard the call and immediately looked up in response.

Seeing that Wei Han was followed by senior figures of the academy, the Qin disciple immediately bowed deeply, and those behind him followed suit in reverence.

Elder Ge immediately spoke upon seeing them: “Where are the barbarians and demons?!”

“They’re gone.”

“Did they take the thing that flashed that instant of heavenly light?”

The Qin disciple shook his head instantly: “Report, Elder, they did not succeed.”

Upon hearing this, all the Heavenly Book Academy Elders showed expressions of shock and uncertainty: “Could the Central Plains aristocrats have withstood the assault of the Heavenly Demon and General-King?”

“It was Ji You.”

“?”

“After the demons and barbarians appeared, the Immortal Spirit nearly was seized—but soon after, Ji You arrived. He defeated the barbarian General-King, seized the Immortal Spirit, and then left.”

The Qin disciple recounted everything he had witnessed: Ji You punching a barbarian War-King until he spat blood, forcing the General-King into demonic transformation with fifteen sword strikes, then shattering half the General-King’s body in a one-against-two battle.

The battlefield had been too chaotic to confirm whether the General-King lived or died, but from the severity of his wounds alone, even if alive, he was likely better off dead.

Upon hearing this, the Heavenly Book Academy Elders instantly exhaled in relief, yet fell silent at the description of the battle—especially Elder Ge.

During the Snow Region expedition years ago, he had led the academy’s team; he clearly remembered how Ji You had nearly died facing a single War-King. Yet in just over three years, he could now single-handedly subdue a General-King—truly staggering.

Zuo Qiu Yang, observing the elders’ sudden relief, his gaze grew profound.

The object from the Ancient Sages’ Sacred Ground was of immense importance; falling into barbarian or demon hands would surely bring disaster—but even if it fell into other aristocratic clans or immortal sects, it wouldn’t necessarily bring peace.

Yet hearing it had been taken by Ji You alone brought a faint sense of relief to everyone.

True enough—though many had criticized his humble origins, no one had ever accused him of lacking moral character.

Zuo Qiu Yang snapped back to awareness, then swept his sleeve and soared into the air, heading toward the deep valley in the northwest.

Seeing this, the elders immediately followed, riding their spiritual energy into the shadowy night.

Huh—

As their sleeves fluttered, the Heavenly Book Academy group landed in the valley.

Due to the successive battles, the valley was utterly shattered—cracks riddled the ground, filled with deep pits, and the air reeked of charred fire and lightning.

Among them was an extraordinarily deep sword scar; according to the Qin disciple’s account, this must have been Ji You’s strike that defeated the barbarian General-King.

The trench still held lingering killing intent, Jiujiu not fading, sending shivers through the heart.

But soon, their attention shifted.

For as they delved deeper into the valley, a vast, sky-spanning fissure came into view—far off, it resembled a shattered bronze mirror.

“It really cracked? How could this happen?”

“Even a full-power strike from a Transcendent Immortal might not pierce the void—what kind of terrifying force could create so many fissures? What exactly happened in the Ancient Sages’ Sacred Ground?”

The accompanying elders now also landed, and upon seeing this sight, all felt profound dread.

For the shattering of the void was something they had never seen, beyond their comprehension.

More critically, these fissures showed no signs of healing; the nothingness and darkness they emitted resembled unhealable wounds—naked and profound.

Throughout this, Zuo Qiu Yang, Lord of Zizai Hall, remained silent, staring intently at the dense network of cracks, gradually forming a possibility in his mind.

“Assign disciples to remain here and guard this forest.”

“What if other immortal sects come here?” Elder Ge asked.

Lord Zuo Qiu pondered briefly: “If they wish to know what happened, let them see—but no one else may enter.”

“I’ll arrange it immediately.”

At dawn, the east gradually whitened, but the morning mist was thick, slowing the arrival of the sunrise.

In the demon prince’s palace in Yunzhou, Ye Han sat with his sister Feng Yang and the young lords of various clans, discussing plans to pay tribute to the barbarians.

After a pot of tea, they had nearly finalized the delegation and the gift list, settling it into written form.

Yet despite the swift and decisive handling of this matter, Prince Ye Han’s brow remained slightly furrowed, as if burdened by thoughts.

But neither Feng Yang nor the young lords of the clans were puzzled—they knew the prince was waiting for the demon generals who had been sent to the Central Plains yesterday.

General Lin Dou set down his teacup, adjusted his robes, and turned to Feng Yang: “Princess, do you enjoy opera?”

“Opera?” Feng Yang lifted her gaze.

“Yunzhou has many opera troupes; I’ve taken great interest and arranged a performance with some of our clan members. I’ve heard you favor Jiuzhou culture and have commissioned people to collect paintings and storybooks—so I specially invite you to watch.”

After speaking, Lin Dou gazed expectantly at the beautiful demon princess, his eyes filled with anticipation.

Yet before he heard her reply, the feather clan’s young lord, Yu Ling, spoke up: “Opera is merely mortal human entertainment—crude and unworthy of the stage. I doubt the princess would find it interesting.”

“And how would you know?” Lin Dou’s expression darkened.

Yu Ling ignored him, turning instead to Feng Yang: “I’ve found some human medical texts and collected human diagnostic tools, stored in a clinic—Princess, you might wish to visit.”

Hearing this sharp exchange, the young lords of the Fang, Zhao, and Mao clans frowned slightly.

Yet their frowns weren’t due to the discord in their words, but because they felt these two were too cunning—and reproached themselves for not preparing gifts for the princess as cleverly.

Feng Yang inherited her mother’s beauty and her father’s talent; recently, she had just crossed the threshold into the Heavenly Demon realm, and was gentle and virtuous—naturally, many secretly admired her.

Especially the five clan young lords, who stood out most among these admirers.

For it was tradition among demons to marry a daughter to one of the five clans’ heirs, to maintain internal unity and bind ministers and royalty as one family—thus these heirs were the most likely to become prince consorts.

Yet to everyone’s surprise, the princess declined both invitations.

“Thank you both, young lords, for your thoughtfulness—but our demon clan has just relocated to Yunzhou, and there are many city affairs to attend to. Leisure activities can wait for another time.”