22 The Moment of the Decisive Battle (1)

Beyond the stars, in the vast expanse, the miasma shattered the boundaries of the void, and the wreckage of ancient times fell to form the land. This was an isolated realm, which the local inhabitants called the "Abyssal Expanse."

The sky of the Abyssal Expanse was forever dim and lightless, marked by a distant, unreachable rift. The dark sea was deep as ink, and upon its shore stood a majestic palace. Outside the palace, nine orderly phalanxes of soldiers stood in formation, tens of thousands of warriors holding sharp blades in silent, lethal stillness.

Leading one of the phalanxes was a petite woman with curled horns atop her head. Her eyes were sharp, fixed intently on the palace gates, waiting for the figure that would soon emerge from the darkness.

Before long, a tall woman stepped out from the shadows. Long, sharp, twisted horns crowned her head like the fangs of a beast, and silver-scaled armor covered her body like the frost of a harsh winter. It was a pity that the lightless void could not reflect the brilliance of her radiance. She was a born warrior; even standing perfectly still, she exuded awe-inspiring power.

"My Lord," the petite, curled-horned woman bowed submissively.

"Why is Bilang not here?" the woman with the sharp horns asked, scanning the ranks.

The petite woman paused for a moment before saying mournfully, "The Chill of Affliction has consumed his entire body. He can no longer serve as a combatant..."

"Bring him with us," the sharp-horned woman interrupted.

The petite woman froze.

The sharp-horned woman looked at her, her majestic gaze softened with a touch of warmth. "I promised you that I would take all of you beyond the heavens, to make you whole again, so you would no longer suffer from the Chill of Affliction or linger in this land of sorrow."

Moments later, a roar tore through the sky. To the west, a raging fire ignited, soaring into the heavens. Thousands of soldiers and their armor surged straight toward the rift in the sky, carried by the towering flames.

The sharp-horned woman gazed into the distance at the scene, a smile touching her lips. A wind blew from the south, howling like the beating of war drums, and the cape behind her fluttered like a banner.

"Tianyin, let your voice be the horn. Sing! For the Abyssal Expanse, we shall never admit defeat."

*

"Aaaahhhhh—!"

The ferocious demon trapped within the whirlwind formation let out an angry roar. The sonic wave tore through the silent night, shattering the talismans placed behind it and causing the formation to flicker and tremble.

"Not good!" Seeing the wind force weakening, the young man in white shouted to those near the formation, "Get everyone away from here!"

Guard Ma scrambled up at the sound, searching for Cen Lan, who was still unconscious. He hoisted her onto his shoulder and looked back at the monster in the wind. The maid who had been delicate and charming moments ago was now a hideous demonic creature. Though he prided himself on his skill and courage, and had prepared himself mentally, he was still frozen in shock at the sight.

The demon roared, using its sharp claws to tear a gash in the wind formation. With a push of its hands, a series of screeching sounds rang out; the formation shattered, its blade-like winds dissipating, and the talismans on the ground lost their luster.

Guard Ma had barely taken a few steps when the monster lunged at them, its blood-stained claws reaching out—

In the blink of an eye, a long silver sword flashed through the air, parrying the attack. Ling Sichen held his ground against the monster while shouting over his shoulder, "Go!"

The monster looked furious, a low, rumbling growl vibrating from its bared teeth. As its flesh touched the sword’s qi-infused edge, it hissed like red-hot meteorite iron plunged into water. Ignoring the pain, the monster grabbed the blade and wrenched it aside with force.

Ling Sichen was secretly astonished as he struggled against it: his sword qi had reached the eighth stage; the hide of an ordinary black-level demon would have burst upon contact. Even the earth-level demon he had fought previously had been terrified of his blade, yet this "Ghost-Sound" dared to grab the sword directly!

Ghost-Sound let out a roar, and as it pushed the sword away, its other claw thrust directly toward the swordsman’s chest. The swordsman withdrew his blade and dodged nimbly to the side. However, the demon seemed to have predicted his movement and kicked out in mid-air. Ling Sichen hurriedly crossed his arms to defend, but was still sent sliding back several paces.

A menacing light flickered on the monster’s sharp claws, fueled by rolling demonic energy. It was about to attack again when it was struck from behind. It roared and turned, only to find a yellow-feathered spirit bird, its talons glowing with golden fire. The bird flitted back and forth, its erratic movements drawing the monster's gaze left and right.

Jiang Xiaoman gritted her teeth, playing her jade flute. The melody drifted around them, weaving a web of sound that left the monster momentarily dazed. Her music was not as harmless as Cen Lan’s; it was as sharp as needles and keen as blades. As the sound pierced its ears, the demon felt an unbearable burning pain. Combined with the spirit bird’s harassment, it could endure no more. Its demonic qi surged and erupted, wrapping around its body like a shield and momentarily blocking out the melody.

Yet, in that brief moment of distraction, another sword thrust came from behind. As the demon dodged, it raised a bloody claw and sent a blade of air toward the swordsman. The strike was incredibly powerful; Ling Sichen’s defensive formation shattered instantly. The remaining shockwave slammed into his body, shaking his internal organs. He stumbled back, using his sword to support himself as he dropped to one knee, forcibly circulating his qi to steady himself before coughing up blood.

Jiang Xiaoman watched, outwardly calm but inwardly in a panic—more than a panic, she was ready to scream! This was only a wounded Ghost-Sound. How were they supposed to fight this!?

As her breathing grew ragged, her notes began to falter, and the guidance she provided the spirit bird went awry. The bird flapped its wings, its talons glowing with spiritual energy, and dove toward the demon’s curled horns.

Demons hated nothing more than having their horns touched.

Irritated, the demon seized the opportunity to snatch the annoying little creature. Rolling demonic energy surged in its palm, instantly dissolving the bird’s protective shield. With a hard squeeze, it crushed the creature into fragments. The poor bird did not even have time to struggle, reduced to a mass of bloody flesh with only a few feathers drifting away.

Jiang Xiaoman went pale, and the flute music stopped abruptly.

"No! Yue'er!!" She cried out, her eyes wide. Her most precious Yue'er, the one she held in her heart...

*In her memory, her eldest martial brother had warned her earnestly: "Your combat experience is too shallow; going out alone is no different from seeking death."*

*Jiang Xiaoman had only giggled, flicking her finger to let the yellow spirit bird land lightly upon it. She rubbed her cheek against its fluffy head. "Don't worry, Yue'er will protect me!"*

Her mind was still a chaotic blur. She had snuck out specifically to save Xing'er, so how had it come to this—

"Hey, don't lose focus!"

The sharp reprimand pulled the girl back to reality. She looked up and saw the monster charging toward her. Fortunately, a white blur arrived just in time; under the flash of the sword, several bursts of qi were unleashed, forcing the monster back.

"If you're afraid, get back!"

The young man in white tossed these words over his shoulder and stepped forward. His movements were swift as lightning, his sword strikes so fast they left only afterimages, the blade’s light as bright as the moon. The demon fought and retreated, yet it did not lose its edge.

Jiang Xiaoman stared, unable to stop shivering. She felt a profound sense of powerlessness, as if anything she did now would only be a hindrance, or worse, cost her her life.

*

The sword of the second young master of the Ling family was the fastest in the Immortal Sect.

The internal energy art he practiced was the legacy of the Ling family, and his sword style was his own creation: the "Inviting the Moon Sword Technique." This technique began in the dim light and concluded with immense power. It started with the First Moon Cut, followed by the Residual Moon Stab, the Crescent Moon Step, the Half Moon Strike, the Waxing Moon Dance, and finally, the Full Moon Slash.

It was said: "Defeat demons without a trace; strike without a sound."

This time, the second young master had not come to slay the demon unprepared. Before setting out, he had consulted ancient texts and researched this notorious earth-level demon thoroughly.

The demon belonged to the water element according to the four cardinal directions, making it vulnerable to wind; it was violent and ill-equipped to deal with rapidly moving targets; it was cunning and cautious, and would never reveal its trump cards until the very last moment.

The earlier wind formation had been a mere test, and the confrontation where it caught his blade had been a way to gauge its strength and reactions. After the exchange, he was certain—this demon could be killed!

As expected, under the swift and violent assault of his "Half Moon Strike," Ghost-Sound began to falter. Perhaps because its heavy injuries had not yet healed, it could no longer keep up with the unpredictable sword techniques. Within a few rounds, it was struck on the shoulder, waist, and face; its peach-colored robes were stained with blood that dripped onto the ground.

Ling Sichen thought to himself: *I cannot drag this out; I must finish it before it uses that final move.*

He feinted with his sword, stepped back, and took out a prepared item, throwing it forward. A fluorescent green bean shot out like an arrow toward the monster. The bean split open, revealing a pair of transparent wings; it began to buzz and circle the demon. It was, in fact, an insect.

Ghost-Sound was immediately distracted by the bug, its blood-red eyes fixed on it, its pupils tracking the insect wherever it flew.

The young man in white curled his lips into a smile.

*"Ghost-Sound’s hearing and vision are a hundred times sharper than a normal person’s, and far superior to other demons. But your sword is fast, which is a perfect counter. Why don't you ask your sweetheart for a few bugs to try; it might just work," his eldest brother in black had once advised.*

*"I’ve told you many times, she is not my sweetheart," he had replied, shaking his head, yet he had kept those words in his heart.*

Taking advantage of the monster’s distraction, Ling Sichen threw a second bug, then a third. The three green insects circled the monster, their emerald light flashing as they buzzed in unison, their sounds resonating and intertwining.

The monster became agitated and restless, reaching out to catch the tiny things, but to no avail. Overwhelmed with annoyance, it suddenly let out a wild howl. Its demonic qi surged, transforming into countless azure blades of air that swept out indiscriminately in all directions.

The Cuiwei Garden suffered; the stone platform where the zither once sat was shattered, and the dwarf bamboo planted around it was hacked into a chaotic mess.

Fortunately, Guard Ma had already moved Cen Lan to a safe place outside the courtyard. Turning back, he saw the deafening sounds, the flash of magical fire, the flying gravel, and the dust swirling in the air. The eight-foot-tall man trembled in fear.

A blade of air aimed at Jiang Xiaoman was deflected by the white-clad swordsman. He remained calm, waiting for the monster’s frenzied outburst to end.

The moment the demonic qi subsided, the Cold Star sword rose, wrapped in sharp qi, and struck straight at the monster.

The dust settled.

The blade finally pierced the monster’s body.

Ling Sichen did not give it a moment to breathe. Sword after sword, he struck—"swish, swish"—like a waterfall, seven consecutive blows aimed at its vital points. With the howling of the qi, the monster was riddled with holes, blood pouring out in torrents.

As the sword light converged, the monster crashed to the ground!