Chapter 73 — On the Brink of Disaster

Zhou Jin knew things had gone badly the moment he saw Sect Master Xuanyuan spit out his vital blood to summon the Blood Hand. Their situation was now desperately dangerous, and the only course was to preserve their true essence so as not to perish from exhaustion. An act of self-mutilation like that meant one was either courting death or preparing to flee. As for the first possibility, Zhou Ji didn't need to think twice: Xuanyuan would never do such a thing.

True to his reputation as an old devil of many years, Wen Yanlan too was a figure who could let go when necessary. Almost at the same instant, borrowing the might of Xuanyuan's Blood Hand, Wen Yanlan let out an uncharacteristic cry, sharp and commanding. The Ten Thousand Demon Banner withdrew and churned; the god-demon aspect swelled abruptly, transforming into a denser mass of black qi that enveloped a dozen or so yin soldiers. With a shake of the long banner, the greatly expanded demon-god aspect returned to the banner and quivered without cease. It seemed Wen Yanlan had used demonic arts to forcibly suppress the dozen yin soldiers he had taken in, but had not yet had time to refine them. Exactly like Xuanyuan, Wen Yanlan's body flickered and vanished into the void, leaving behind only Zhou Xuan and that sword formation on the verge of collapse.

Zhou Xuan was locked in struggle with a yin soldier—the thing's head was covered in filthy blood, a long arrow embedded in its skull and protruding from its gaping mouth, a horrifying sight. Seeing the two of them flee, Zhou Xuan panicked. He twirled his saber in a flourish, then with a backhanded stroke hacked the yin soldier down. He had no time to absorb and refine the mental force that came surging to him; he turned and bolted for the cave mouth. He did not have the cultivation of those two to tear open space and escape, so he had no choice but to flee honestly by the same route he had come.

"What a waste! All these fine flying swords, and no time to carry them off—and your sect master is flat broke these days, you know!" Even at the brink of life and death, Zhou Xuan was still fretting over irrelevant things. Clearly he had the makings of one who would sooner part with his life than his money. "Damn those two bastards!" He had barely run thirty feet when two barriers, one black and one red, suddenly appeared before him. Caught off guard, Zhou Xuan slammed headfirst into them. Thumb-thick beams of red and black light shot out; in terror he threw himself into a roll. The two beams struck the bluestone floor, shattering the great stone steps to pieces, shards flying, dust swirling—the force of it was truly astonishing.

Zhou Xuan stared at the red and black barriers filling the passage, flickering in and out of visibility in the void, his face ashen. So Xuanyuan and Wen Yanlan had sealed off the entire passage behind them with a powerful formation—plainly they meant to do him in! In that instant Zhou Xuan cursed their ancestors eighteen generations over a dozen times. Gathering his true essence, he raised the Blood Transformation Divine Saber, ready to blast the seal open by brute force. Boom! A thunderous crash came from behind him, and a deep ghostly aura, borne on a current of cold sweat-like air, coiled above his head, as though seeking the right spot to come crashing down.

With a clatter of ringing steel, dozens of precious swords fell to the ground, their once-multicolored radiance dimming as their spiritual power drained away entirely. Zhou Xuan cried out in alarm; the Blood Transformation Divine Saber, its power not yet fully gathered, was swung hastily overhead. A ribbon-like streak of blood light dispersed the yin-cold ghost qi that had settled above him. Forming seals with both hands, he drove the saber with his divine sense and once more released the six-zhang golden colossus. Zhou Xuan's mental force was formidable now, his spirit concentrated; though the six-zhang golden body had not fully coalesced into solid form, its golden light surged mightily, like a vast golden sphere three zhang across. Zhou Xuan was fighting for his life, pouring all his strength into condensing his mental force and compressing the golden radiance of the colossus to within a single zhang of his body, until the golden light had nearly solidified into substance. Instead of retreating, he advanced, charging ferociously at the soldier-ghost yin soldiers that had just smashed through the sword formation.

This was not Zhou Xuan courting death. He had calculated it out: even with the Blood Transformation Divine Saber's aid, blasting through the seal Xuanyuan and Wen Yanlan had laid together would leave him gravely weakened, his true essence spent—and he would likely be run down by these fierce ghosts, which came without trace and vanished without shadow, before he ever reached the cave mouth. Then he would not even have the wherewithal to fight for his life. Better to kill a few more soldier-ghost yin soldiers now, absorb more mental force, and have more capital for his escape!

The golden light seemed purpose-built to counter these yin souls and yin soldiers. What was more, Zhou Xuan drove the Blood Transformation Divine Saber with his divine sense, darting in and out around the golden radiance. In an instant he had cut down several of the weaker soldier-ghosts. The surrounding yin soldiers roared without cease, yet could not force their way into that protective golden light, which was now nearly substantial; some of the weaker soldier-ghosts were scorched by the golden light into wisps of black smoke, their vitality gravely wounded. That fierce ghost general seemed to have vanished altogether, making no appearance to block him. Zhou Xuan's charge was, unexpectedly, fairly smooth going. Masses of mental force poured into the śarīra at the center of his brow. The śarīra, absorbing so much tonic all at once, seemed unable to digest it; more than half the mental force ran riot within his brow, sending stabbing pains through Zhou Xuan's skull. He had no choice but to marshal his full strength into the Second Origin Derivation, storing all the mental force he could not refine inside the Origin Derivation.

After absorbing so much mental force, the golden light around Zhou Xuan swelled further still, like a vast golden cocoon of qi, gently pulsating as though it might burst apart at any moment. Vast, surging golden radiance pounded against the whole of the Sima Way like ocean waves. The śarīra at Zhou Xuan's brow was swelling rapidly, and his brow throbbed with a dull ache. Fearing some disaster—that the śarīra within his brow would burst his skull—he had to divide off eight parts of his spirit to suppress it.

Ah! After cutting down who knew how many ghost souls and yin soldiers, Zhou Xuan had charged into the Tianxing Hall. Masses of mental force were all stored within the Origin Derivation; the śarīra at his brow had reached its limit and could absorb no more mental force whatsoever. His whole head now felt fit to split with pain. Wrapped entirely in the golden cocoon of qi, he looked like a maddened tiger, claws bared and fangs flashing. The Blood Transformation Divine Saber had all but slipped from his control, flying of its own accord into the golden cocoon and vanishing into Zhou Xuan's body! With the six-zhang golden body trailing behind him, Zhou Xuan rampaged through the Tianxing Hall, crashing and smashing. Whenever soldier-ghost yin soldiers gathered around him, they were shattered to pieces by the impact. The momentum of it actually eclipsed even the dense, deep ghost qi of the Qiongyi Hall.