Meanwhile, Feng, spitting blood, crashed ten miles beyond the black flame tsunami. His usually defiant face was pale, and he coughed up more blood. "What's happening? This immortal corpse is targeting me?"
Roar!
A thunderbolt, stronger than before, struck the flame-wreathed corpse, scattering the black flames around it.
The immortal corpse's true form emerged.
Clad in a purple-gold robe, adorned with an ornate feathered crown, it exuded regal majesty. Its skeletal face, covered in thin, bloodless skin, bore purple lips and a once-handsome visage now twisted into a ghastly snarl. Empty, white eyes, devoid of pupils, radiated an eerie malevolence.
A sword wound pierced its chest, clear and unhealed, revealing broken ribs and blackened flesh within.
Feng met its hollow gaze and sensed greed and desire.
His heart skipped. He understood: the corpse relied on immortal artifact fragments to retain its spirituality, becoming a monstrous entity over millennia. Feng sought the fragments within it, just as the corpse craved the fragments within him and those beyond the ruins.
"Trouble."
Muttering, Feng swallowed a pill from his storage ring. Its potent energy mended his wounds. He channeled spiritual power from his dantian, activating his techniques and artifacts.
Gripping his flying sword, he faced the corpse, which defied the thunder above yet still attacked him.
"I'm not easy prey!"
Spiritual energy blazed behind him, forming a golden wheel etched with countless runes and patterns. Light bathed him, making him appear divine.
Ancient Imperial Way: Mysterious Fate Wheel!
He swung his sword, drawing spiritual and malevolent qi from a hundred miles into a whirlwind that empowered his blade. Divine runes glowed on the already exceptional sword.
"Spirit-Sealing Heaven Slash!"
A hundred-meter-long spiritual sword, like a heavenly pillar, struck the corpse with Feng's swing.
Roar!
The powerful blow forced a pained roar from the corpse, despite its divine frame. The dissipating energy formed wind blades, shredding its fragile purple-gold robe and exposing Yuanwu Jun's scarred body.
Dense wounds marked the corpse, suggesting real damage.
"It's working!"
Mira Rain, watching secretly below, beamed with delight.
"You're celebrating too soon," the Evil King said coldly, dousing her enthusiasm.
"Names are never given lightly. Yuanwu Jun, Martial Origin Lord, earned his title through martial prowess. A lord of the immortal realm isn't so easily defeated."
As he spoke, the corpse's wounds vanished, its flesh writhing as if the damage had never occurred. Yet the sword wound on its chest remained, an unhealing scar defying its regeneration, as if imbued with an ineffable power.
Roar!
The corpse roared, its withered fist brimming with power. It struck, shattering the air with transparent ripples and black flames, hurtling toward Feng.
Feng's face paled. He shifted the golden wheel to his front, burning more spiritual energy and crushing high-purity spirit stones from his ring.
The Mysterious Fate Wheel became a massive shield.
Boom!
The invisible fist wind, laced with black flames, struck the shield, unleashing a deafening roar.
The shockwave, like a visible blast, devastated everything within a hundred miles. Rocks flew, trees snapped, and even the stubborn black mist dispersed, the hidden monsters within vanishing with resentful wails.
Crack!
A shattering sound came from Feng's shield. The once-invincible Mysterious Fate Wheel fractured.
The damage to his life-bound artifact caused Feng to spit blood, his soul aching as if torn apart.
"So strong!"
He stared at the roaring corpse, the strongest foe he'd ever faced. Despite his full effort, he was instantly overwhelmed, powerless to resist.
Other cultivators, hoping to seize an opportunity, fled at the sight. This monster's strike rivaled their sect leaders' power.
As sect prodigies, they sought opportunities, not death. Their lives were too valuable to risk for a vague chance at glory, unlike lowly rogue cultivators.
Hiding to observe the corpse's fate was enough. Feng's bloodied state was a stark warning against standing out.
"If he dies, I'll fight you to the death!" Mira spun, glaring at the calm Evil King, her eyes glowing with a seductive purple.
"Not even close," the Evil King said coldly, pointing at the imposing corpse. "It's strong but not enough to kill him instantly. If he can't survive this, he's no chosen one."
He sneered, "It has an immortal's shell but no intellect or divine techniques. It's a treasure hoard it can't use, barely tapping a fraction of its power. If I had that body, I could obliterate him with a glance. With even a hint of divine ability, neither your lover nor I would dare scheme against it."
Mira fell silent, biting her lip. "Will she come?"
The Evil King glanced at her irritably. "I should ask you that."
"I think she will."
Boom!
A fiercer thunderbolt struck the corpse, charring its formidable body. Black flames seeped from cracked skin, struggling to repair it.
The corpse roared mindlessly, like a beast, and swung another fist at Feng.
A stream of light shot upward, threading through mountain gaps, stopping before Feng like a rising crescent moon.
Feng stared, stunned, as air waves forced his eyes shut, but he sensed a familiar aura.
"She's here!"
The Evil King's eyes lit up, fixed on the moonlight-like figure wielding pure lunar power. "Such talent at her age... Every generation, the Xian Sect finds such extraordinary heirs. Truly enviable."
Mira, hearing the Evil King's rare praise for Qing, felt a pang of unease. Her gaze shifted to the still, dark demon corpse below.
The moonlight faded, revealing Qing, her presence colder than the moon itself.
Her black hair cascaded to her waist, her flawless face glowing faintly. Spiritual energy and power made a strand of hair dance at her brow. Despite blocking the corpse's devastating blow, she remained serene.
"Qing..."
Feng murmured, gazing at her stunning figure.
She was here, as aloof and enigmatic as ever, stirring his heart in ways Mira, Lian Zhen, and Suya never could. She brought peace, a harbor for his restless soul.
Perhaps Qing is the one I truly love?
He thought of the other girls' smiles, shaking his head to dispel the notion.
"Hm."
Hearing Feng call her name, Qing felt a flicker of distraction. Her heart, which she'd expected to race, was oddly calm.
She glanced at the disheveled youth, realizing the longing and pain she once felt for him had faded to a faint echo, almost incomprehensible.
Yet, a sudden worry surged, absent before seeing him but growing stronger now, quickening her pulse and unsettling her.
Had she forgotten something?
Wait! What did I forget?
Her expression shifted, mistaken by Feng as focus on the corpse.
Gone... that person... how could I forget him?
Qing's mind drifted to Elder Mu, his fawning expressions, his greedy yet attentive gaze, always finding ways to brush against her.
He'd become her shadow, a constant presence she'd grown accustomed to, even forgetting how perilous this place was for him alone.
Her eyes trembled, an urge to turn back overwhelming her.
Unknowingly, Elder Mu had carved a place in her heart.
Perhaps it began with their first meeting in Yong Row, or the shameful moment of his foul essence drenching her. Since then, he'd been by her side through autumn and winter.
"Feng, wait here."
Qing's delicate lips parted as she spoke to the youth behind her.
"Huh?"
Feng, stunned by her radiant face, was caught off guard.
Before she could say more, a weary, aged voice called from the direction she'd come.
"Immortal maiden... huff... huff... Princess... wait for me..."
She looked and saw Elder Mu, frail and gasping, running toward her, calling out.
Seeing him safe, Qing swallowed her words. Her anxious heart calmed, and she offered him a faint, apologetic smile.
Feng, standing behind, caught this rare, tender expression, one he'd never seen. The breathtaking sight left him dazed, forgetting the battlefield, captivated by her charm.
So beautiful...
He recalled his harsh words at the palace's rear mountain and Qing's heartbroken look.
Could it be...?
Her smile toward Elder Mu suggested she'd accepted his earlier stance. Did this mean the proud Qing was the first to embrace sharing him with other confidantes?
His heart swelled with emotion, vowing that no matter how many lovers he had, Qing would always be paramount.
Elder Mu, lifting his head to see Qing's smile, felt his fatigue vanish, returning a goofy grin.
Mira, watching Feng's gaze on Qing, clenched her fists, her fingertips paling.
The scene became bizarrely dramatic: Elder Mu stared at Qing, Qing at Elder Mu, Feng at Qing, and Mira at Feng.
"Tch."
The Evil King, observing as an outsider, was baffled yet intrigued by Feng's obliviousness to the romantic tension. He thought of the pure, frail, yet resolute Suya, chuckling softly.
Roar!
The corpse, an unwitting disruptor, gathered even greater power to attack Feng but was struck by a purple-blue thunderbolt, its force overwhelming even Yuanwu Jun's martial frame. It wailed in agony.
The sound snapped the group from their strange atmosphere, all turning to the thunder-ravaged corpse.
"Your target is that?" Qing asked, pointing at the corpse.
"Yes!" Feng dusted himself off, catching his breath. "I need what's in its head."
The immortal artifact fragment.
"Alright."
Qing nodded, her exquisite face serene, saying no more.
Her jade hand closed, spiritual energy coalescing into a refined sword, its form mirroring the Too Yin Mysterious Heaven Sword that powered the ruins.
This wasn't mere spiritual energy but a sword infused with divine intent, radiating an aura akin to the Too Yin Mysterious Heaven Sword, Qing's summoning of her soul-bound artifact spirit.
Feng's own fragment spirit recoiled, hiding.
The Evil King and Mira looked up. The Evil King smirked, "That's it! It channels the same power as the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady's personal sword, the Too Yin Mysterious Heaven Sword. Demon Sect saintess, can you feel it?"
"Of course!"
Mira's purple eyes spread to her whites, then flared golden. She sensed the sword's presence stirring the demon corpse tied to her soul, its fear and despair rekindled, nearly overwhelming her. Clenching her teeth, she held onto clarity, her eyes fully purple with golden pupils.
The demon corpse twitched, its instincts overriding the sword wound's immortal qi.
High above, Qing gripped the spirit sword.
The corpse froze, the sword qi in its chest wound drawn into Qing's blade, surprising even her.
The Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady's sword, from ten thousand years ago, still held such power!
Unseen, sword qi from beneath the corpse's emergence point was also absorbed.
The sword spirit swelled beyond Qing's control.
But she knew what to do.
With a gentle swing, a crescent moon from eons past shattered void and time.
Roar!
The corpse's desperate scream cut short.
Its divine body crumbled to ash, leaving a glowing fragment.
Feng stepped forward, claiming the immortal qi-laden fragment under envious, fearful gazes. None dared act, cowed by Qing's radiant sword, unsure if she could wield it again.
Qing landed, exhaling. The sword, fueled by ancient power, had drained her spiritual energy. She looked at Elder Mu, unharmed. "Are you... alright?"
Her tone was calm but held a trace of concern.
"Heh, I'm fine, fine..."
Elder Mu waved dismissively, chuckling.
Then his cloudy eyes widened.
Pfft!
A black claw pierced his aged chest.