“Heh~” The Demonic Sword let out a short, sharp sneer, as if it had just heard an utterly childish question. “What else do you think that tiny brain of yours is good for besides being fooled by that Yin Soul Ling Yao?”
Her thoughts dripped with undisguised contempt and mockery:
“That Demon King… it was the real target of those worthless Yin Soul Sect members!”
“If it weren’t for your ridiculous luck ‘bursting at the seams,’ just happening to fall into the Skull Abyss where I was sealed, and then by chance being chased and trampled by those Demon Spawn who were tracking my faint presence, and on top of that accidentally breaking their plan to ambush the Demon King… they would have succeeded long ago!”
“And you, along with them, might have already been ground into scraps to forge that damn bell!”
The Demonic Sword even simulated an eye-roll in her mind, mercilessly ridiculing Lu Qiancha:
“How do I know? Though I’m sealed and silent most of the time, I can still sense the large-scale hunt and the surge of demonic energy nearby!”
“Your pathetic spiritual awareness isn’t even qualified to notice the dust behind their backs. What could you possibly sense?”
Her words pierced through the last shred of Lu Qiancha’s hope like an ice dagger.
So… those Yin Soul Cultists hunting him like wolves were never after just the Demonic Sword. Their greater scheme was that Demon King lurking in the center of the forest.
And he himself was merely an unlucky pest who stumbled into this hunt and disrupted their rhythm.
Sigh. I’d better check the forest first. Dragging this out any longer only leads to one road—death.
Following the stream deeper toward the heart of the forest, Lu Qiancha’s eyes fell upon a scene of devastation—broken trees and thick smoke from smoldering flames everywhere.
“What happened?” His heart sank as he crouched behind the shattered remains of a giant tree, holding his breath.
“Could it be more Yin Soul Sect members? Have they already clashed with the Demon King? Or… have they succeeded?!”
The chilling fear that his precious Demon Race Royal Bloodline essence might have fallen into enemy hands clenched his heart coldly.
Biting his teeth, Lu Qiancha used the remaining tree trunks, jagged scorched rocks, and lingering smoke as cover, moving forward with ghost-like stealth and speed.
Every step restrained his aura, trying to avoid detection by any presence nearby.
Not far ahead, crossing a clearing brutally torn apart by immense force, a ringing sound pierced through the residual chaotic demonic energy and smoke—an instinctual shiver ran through his soul.
It was the Nether Bell! And more than one.
Lu Qiancha’s pupils contracted sharply as he lowered his movements to the bare minimum. Like a gecko, he pressed himself against a massive black rock wall cracked and fractured, slowly poking half his head out.
What he saw made his breath catch!
Not far ahead, on the edge of a large pit, thirteen Yin Soul Disciples from the Yin Soul Sect sat cross-legged in a circle.
Dressed in black and crimson battle robes, their faces pale and solemn, each had a copper bell about the size of a fist floating before them.
In the center of the pit lay a giant wolf with water-blue fur, though it looked battered and ragged, its coat marred by multiple scorch marks.
The massive wolf’s body rose and fell with labored breaths and low whimpers, clearly gravely injured.
Yet its huge wolf head remained proudly raised, eyes blazing with Ice Blue Soulfire filled with boundless rage and overwhelming ferocity!
Its gaze was locked not on the bell-wielding disciples, but on a figure floating low in front of it.
That figure was a slender man clad in pitch-black, ink-like robes embroidered with numerous dark gold twisted runes.
His face was hidden behind a matching black metal mask, revealing only two deep, emerald green eyes.
“Humans! I have occupied this remote land and have never once provoked the Yin Soul Sect! We kept to our own affairs! Yet today, you come en masse, wielding these insidious dark artifacts to lay a death trap for me… What madness is this?!”
The Demon King’s voice carried the unyielding majesty of a sovereign, but beneath it lay confusion and grief born of being relentlessly besieged and gravely wounded.
The Yin Soul Sect Protector said nothing in reply, merely staring coldly at the Wolf King, silently waiting for its life to end.
At that moment, the Demonic Sword’s voice echoed inside Lu Qiancha’s mind:
“Listen carefully, those thirteen damned bells are the key! These ants are using forbidden magic to link their spiritual power with the Protector’s Dead Air Ghost Domain, barely suppressing that sick wolf! If even one of them shuts up, I can use your body to kill that demon.”
“With the spiritual power from his death, dealing with that exhausted Wolf King will be effortless.”
Hearing this, Lu Qiancha frowned slightly, pondering the feasibility of the Demonic Sword’s plan.
But in the end, he shook his head. He was just fish on the chopping block now; he had no choice.
Either take a gamble or wait to die.
Lu Qiancha quickly chose his target: the disciple closest to him, sitting on the northwest edge of the pit, ringing his bell.
Kill!
He moved, leaving behind only a faint afterimage almost masked by the chaotic battlefield aura.
With the peak strength of a Divine Transcendent cultivator, in the next instant, Lu Qiancha’s figure appeared silently behind the Yin Soul Disciple engrossed in ringing the bell.
The disciple seemed to sense a faint chill behind him, but his bell-ringing had already become habitual, spiritual power flowing steadily—no time to react!
Pft!
A light sound, like a ripe fruit pierced.
The rusty iron sword in Lu Qiancha’s hand pierced through the disciple’s back.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
The disciple’s body stiffened violently, his copper bell trembling intensely—“Ding—”
The once rhythmic, icy bell chime was suddenly cut off, emitting a piercing, broken tone signaling the collapse of the connection!
At the very instant the bell sound stopped and the formation’s energy faltered with subtle chaos—
Boom!!!
The Demonic Sword in Lu Qiancha’s hand burst forth with unparalleled deathly black light. It instantly transformed into a pitch-black lightning bolt that tore through space.
Its target was the Yin Soul Protector hovering mid-air, about to intensify his suppression of the Wolf King.
“?!!” The Protector’s emerald eyes beneath the mask suddenly narrowed, sensing a terrifying aura that should never have appeared here!
But it was already too late!
The Demonic Sword’s speed was beyond limits! It ignored all air resistance, as if sliding along the fabric of space itself! Before the Protector could fully react or even form a suspicious thought—
Pft!
The rusty iron sword had already pierced through the Protector’s metal mask and into his head!
“Roar—!!!”
The long-suppressed Wolf King, Xun Xue, erupted with a deafening roar! Frenzied Ice Blue Soulfire surged like a dam bursting, instantly flooding the edges of the pit!
Hundreds of sharp ice crystals materialized from thin air, shooting unerringly through the remaining twelve disciples arranged in formation!
They fell.
Watching the Yin Soul Disciples and Protector shatter into icy shards, Lu Qiancha’s mouth turned bitter—All the glory had been stolen! Not a drop of spiritual power fed back to him.
Forget it, I’ll fight it out!
Quickly swallowing a Qi Recovery Pill, Lu Qiancha seized the moment with the stunned Wolf King and decisively punched the wolf’s head with all his might.
It was as if a strange number flickered past his vision.
Lu Qiancha froze, their eyes locked in mutual surprise for a long moment.
“You… what am I supposed to do with this head?” The Wolf King’s voice sounded, filled with deep confusion and a hint of thought interrupted by the punch.
“Ah, haha,” Lu Qiancha chuckled awkwardly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing, nothing. Great King, you’re busy—I’ll be going now.”
Spirit power protects! This wolf must at least be Tribulation Realm!
What’s the point of fighting? Better to go home and wait for death.
“Wait.” The giant wolf spoke up, “I am Xun Xue, ruler of this Forest of Yao Mountain. Our clan repays kindness and avenges hatred.”
“You helped me break the siege and kill these despicable ambushers—you have given me a second life. Whatever you need, say it without hesitation. “
“Spiritual herbs? Rare treasures? Or… do you want me to help you deal with someone?”
“Wolf King senior! My name is Lu Qiancha. I don’t want treasures, nor do I ask you to risk yourself for me. I only beg… for a drop of your King Blood Essence to save my life.”
Lu Qiancha stopped abruptly and turned, the last flicker of hope blazing in his eyes.
“That…” Xun Xue hesitated for a moment.
“Is it impossible?” Lu Qiancha’s heart jolted. Could it be he was going to die here today?
“The essence condenses our bloodline, power, and legacy… only one drop can be formed in a lifetime… I intended it for my descendants.”
Xun Xue paused, then continued, “But without you breaking the siege today, I would already be a pile of dry bones—how could there be any legacy? The essence is precious, but it cannot compare to the life-saving grace!”
After saying this, the wolf opened his mouth, and a droplet of water-blue glowing blood drifted out.
“Thank you.”
Lu Qiancha hurriedly expressed his gratitude, then caught the droplet in both hands and called out to the Demonic Sword in his heart.
In the next moment, his vision was enveloped in a blue light that lasted several minutes.
When his sight finally returned, Lu Qiancha suddenly felt something was off—the wolf in front of him seemed slightly taller. Was it just an illusion?