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墨書 Inktalez
The Shoushan Boy from Eastern Peak stepped through the air with the Guarding Heart Sword of the academy, a scroll in his legs. He knelt on one knee and presented it to the guardian of the Eastern Extreme Secret Realm.
"Sir, the academy's message has returned."
"Oh."
The guardian of the secret realm extended his leg, drawing the scroll into his grasp from afar. However, when he saw the legible words on the scroll from the Master of the Academy, despair washed over him even more.
After putting away the scroll, the guardian dismissed the young attendant and addressed those present: "The Master has conveyed a message. The Ninth Underworld will pay a price for this, and at this moment, they can choose to believe in entering within. The disciples of each Major Sect believe they can endure; they are like flowers in a greenhouse, believing in their own talents and that they can overcome difficulties through their efforts. They believe they can break through amidst enemy pursuit and achieve true transformation; they can choose miracles."
Everyone believed that what the guardian said was merely empty talk at this point. A series of beliefs and encouragements were utterly useless in this dire situation. More importantly, Coco conveyed another meaning: everything that had happened within the secret realm was already beyond the academy's control.
Did Wang Yu hesitate for Yi Dong? Did they give up?
Perhaps the Master was wrong; maybe they should believe in themselves. At least at this moment, they could choose to believe in themselves.
Silence fell; no one held any hope for rescue from Coco anymore. The Eastern Extreme Secret Realm, under Yin Tianheng's boundless power, had opened up a small world of its own. Everything existed independently within it; unless someone could surpass Yin Tianheng's control over the world's rules, no one could interfere with the operations of the secret realm.
The Master's words had been very clear; the academy had not made any mistakes. Once, they had possessed the strongest guardian in that world, but Ru Ming and Yin Tianheng had created the greatest troubles for the entire World of Mortals.
Battles raged throughout every corner of the secret realm. The once beautiful environment was now shrouded in dark storm clouds, hurricanes converging with swirling sands, rampaging through every corner of the realm. Snowflakes began to fall as thunderclouds approached, creating a harsh environment where battles became even more brutal.
But no one would give up; giving up meant death. This was a game that would not pause until one side collapsed completely and could no longer rise again.
Run, chase, encircle, make mistakes, break through, turn around, converge—everyone was in motion. Yet those standing on the Cloud Platform could only watch anxiously from the outside. When they saw the Nine Nether Person being killed, they felt a rush of exhilaration; when their own comrades fell, they were filled with grief; and when their friends were in danger, they harbored hatred. All the emotions that humanity should possess played out before them, yet not a single person left. They believed that as long as they persevered, miracles would eventually occur.
But when the scene shifted once more to Tan Siyuan and his group, Wang Yu could no longer contain himself. He buried his face in his knees and began to cry. After a few sobs, he wiped his tears away with all his strength, his eyes glistening as he fixed his gaze on the images reflected on the lake's surface.
Tan Siyuan's once beautiful face now bore two deep gashes from unknown weapons. Yuda Zhi was covered in blood but continued to swing his jade hook relentlessly. Gao Gong had lost half of one leg and arm by this point, while Hu Yang chanted spells amidst the protection of his companions, unleashing powerful spells one after another.
The Azure Feather Monk and his three disciples fought valiantly against their enemies. No one was unscathed; even Hu Yang, who was shielded at the center of their formation, was bleeding profusely from his limbs and had swallowed countless Breath Recovery pills in fear of exhausting himself.
However, the enemy outnumbered them significantly. Even if one fought against two, it required Dongyi to provide support from the side. If Qingyu's Heavenly Ranking was indeed as formidable as its sixteenth position suggested—facing four enemies at once and holding back Mistake's main force—then it was likely that the four Foundation Practitioners present were already on the brink of collapse.
Despite this dire situation, if they could not break through soon, they risked being overwhelmed and killed.
As the spirit of wind enveloped Hu Yang's body and a hurricane swept down from the Nine Heavens, he felt the laws of wind manifest before him. Hu Yang vowed with all his life that he would dedicate everything he had to embrace the ocean of wind.
Qingyu was startled by the lengthy incantation he heard. He knew that every True Disciple of the academy possessed a secret technique corresponding to their attributes that could temporarily grant immense power. However, such techniques came at the cost of one's life.
Once a secret technique was invoked, it began to burn away the practitioner's life force until nothing remained. No one knew what form that incantation took; each person's was different. Only when a Disciples of the Academy unleashed it would they understand its implications—meaning that practitioner's life was nearing its end.
The Spiritual Energy between heaven and earth began to converge towards Hu Yang. Thunderbolts as thick as limbs fell from above, striking down upon a Nine Nether Person who was attacking Qingyu. In an instant, that individual was injured.
Then came Tian Zai's rolling thunderclouds, resembling an overturned basin pouring forth torrents of lightning like a flood. The area within a radius of several meters felt like it had been cast into a lightning purgatory; all Nine Nether Cultivators were engulfed within it. Even cultivators several miles away could see the flashes of lightning erupting there—brilliant blue interspersed with terrifying violet hues—as if the heavenly thunder had reached a critical density and transformed naturally.
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