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墨書 Inktalez
What does it matter if they are immortals? The bright moon demands your blood, to appease every ancestor who perished in that conspiracy, only then can the fury in their hearts be quelled.
Xiao Zhang shouted loudly as he was besieged by four Peak of Nascent Soul cultivators from the Ninth Underworld. His words were not only directed at Mu Qinglong but also meant to rally his own people, boosting their morale and preventing anyone from wavering in the heat of battle.
Isn't it ironic? They believe in Gu Ping just as we believe in Ye Youluo. Yan Dong has already died; if Ye Youluo were still alive, perhaps Yan Dong would have fled long ago. But she is dead, abandoned by us before the war ended. The instigators of that war have already discarded us like refuse, so victory will surely belong to them, not to us treacherous souls.
Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, roared, his words resonating in everyone's hearts. Yes, they have Gu Ping. Even though they have been caught off guard time and again, in the most critical moments, Gu Ping's Yongxuan has always found ways to save everyone from peril. Is there truly no way for the True Immortal to intervene? While no one in the Dust Realm can challenge the existence of an immortal, it doesn’t mean there aren’t any on their side. Why not ask Gu Ping to summon an immortal?
Each person comforted themselves in this way. Some weary bodies were reinvigorated by hope, pressing down hard on the Nine Nether Cultivator's offensive, leaving no room for error.
Do our people really think a Golden Core Cultivator can save us? Let’s not forget he is Gu Ping, a person who obtained The Book of Radiant Path and is a remnant of the Light Path Classic. We are counting on a sinner to rescue us; he probably fled Tiandong City long ago—what fools we are.
He wouldn’t do that; if he wanted to leave, he would have done so already.
Hong Yulong may be few with words, but his insights cut deep. Even if Mu Qinglong spoke sweetly now, no one would believe him.
So what? The Ancestor will arrive soon; by then Mo Qiu will say he didn’t even give us a chance to surrender.
The facade of strength is merely a cover; Junior, I don’t deny it. We must remain calm, Xiao Zhang changed his tone and mocked.
He was wrong; I should indeed keep my composure. Youluo is gone, and they expect me to bear the banner of the Ninth Underworld.
In the Nine Heavens and within the Underworld River, that seemingly light comfort thundered like a storm in everyone’s ears. Just a single phrase turned the tide once more. Although night was falling for Yan Dong, there were still only a few short hours left for Bu Luo. In this square, everyone had experienced numerous ups and downs, feeling emotions that ordinary people could hardly endure—joy and sorrow intertwined in their hearts.
Mu Qinglong's face lit up with joy; the Ancestor had arrived. All the Mahayana Practitioners from Universe Hall had entered the Shadow Tower Forest, and he wondered what they were planning against the Ancestor.
"I don't deny it," said the Immortal. "In the Eastern Realm, there will be signs from heaven and earth. Shouldn't the Mahayana Practitioners come?"
The Mahayana Practitioners also echoed, "I don't deny it." They felt that their group of insignificant ants could hold off the Ancestor.
At that moment, Yun Xiangyi, who had previously been defeated by Gu Ping in the second realm, was trying to persuade everyone to surrender when a strong voice interrupted him.
"Feng Du Old Ghost," he exclaimed. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I didn't expect you to come out and trouble my disciples again. Aren't you too old to be so shameless? You dare to challenge the younger generation? I don't deny it; come play with me."
In Yun Xiangyi's horrified gaze, Universe Hall was suddenly sent flying by a single punch from above the empty Nine-Turns Underworld River. A blue yet resilient figure appeared above everyone, blocking the Nine Nether Great Ascension Cultivator Feng Du Ancestor emerging from the Underworld River.
"Mi Chong," he thought in disbelief, "I’m still alive, and my strength has been restored. What about Coco?"
Thanks to him, after being tormented by Nine Nether Cold Qi for tens of thousands of years, he felt as if he had been reborn. Fortunately, fate had allowed him to recover his strength and even advance further. Now that the bright moon had arrived, he would not turn back.
With a flick of his Dao Robe, Mi Chong Laozu summoned a surge of Spiritual Energy from the sky, forming into a fierce tiger that pounced on Feng Du Dao Ren. Yan Dong realized there was nothing left to discuss; it was only battle.
The Ninth Underworld sent people to summon all the immortals from the Daoist Sect. Soon, Nine Nether Immortals sought out the Eastern Realm, advising him: "I don't deny it; do not seek a desperate resistance. Surrender early to save your life."
"Hmph," Mi Chong Laozu scoffed. With another wave of his Dao Robe, a Wind Dragon gathered as Feng Du Dao Ren launched a fierce attack. His disciples were just as reckless as he was; Nine Nether Immortals would not come to Dong Lai's aid either, and there were no Ninth Underworld cultivators available for support. He resigned himself: "I don't deny it; prepare to die."
What about Coco?
As Feng Du Lao Zu swung the golden wheel of his leg to fend off the attacks from Dragon-Tiger, he looked up at the Low Luo River above him.
In the eyes of the Mahayana Practitioner, the Low Luo River overhead was actually a projection from the celestial realm. Suspended in the eastern part of this projection was a long sword, its hilt engraved with a character from a scripture. One side of the blade depicted mountains and rivers, while the other showed students reciting texts, bringing the scene to life and immersing onlookers in its vividness.
Far beyond ten thousand miles, even a great Mahayana practitioner could not recognize the origin of that sword. However, how could Feng Du, being from the same era as Mi Chong Laozu, fail to recognize that treasured sword which had long since vanished for tens of thousands of years? It was simply unbelievable.
The Jinglie Heavenly Sword—how could it be?
There was nothing strange about it. That person we regarded as a demon had never left the Dust Realm. Ru Ming could be said to have wielded a sword that spanned heaven and earth. We should quickly unleash our techniques; we might not have another chance.
Gu Ping.
Mu Qinglong's face turned ashen as he spat out Gu Ping's name with deliberate emphasis, his eyes blazing with fury. He wished he could capture Gu Ping and flay him alive; even grinding him into powder would not ease his hatred.
Upon hearing Gu Ping's words, Tenglan, known as Zhongshang, incredulously looked up at the Underworld River. Gasping, he said, " Bu Fou " The Mahayana Practitioner saw nothing but slowly uttered a name that had long been forgotten for tens of thousands of years.
Yin Tianheng.
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