Chapter 290: Sense of Crisis

Zhu Lin’s pupils shrank violently.

Not long ago, they were still mocking Peach Blossom Fairy and the Eight Ghosts for struggling against a mere Yuan Realm cultivator, looking utterly pathetic.

Who would have thought the boomerang would swing right back—slapping them squarely in the face?

Zhu Lin narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t be fooled by him! Everyone, attack together! That strike just now must’ve taken a long time to prepare—I don’t believe he can do it again!”

His words steadied the shaken hearts of the others.

That’s right. No matter how impressive that attack looked, Chen Fei was still just at the Yuan Realm peak. There’s no way he could unleash attacks like that repeatedly without exhausting himself.

And don’t forget—they were still inside the Yellow Wind. If he burned through all his spiritual energy, he’d be dead anyway.

“Formation! Heavenly Demon Array!”

The remaining Yuan Realm peak demonic cultivators didn’t hesitate and quickly formed a battle array to counter Chen Fei’s strength.

Zhu Lin didn’t believe Chen Fei had such overwhelming power and held back slightly, preparing to test his true strength.

Seeing how the enemy responded, a cold sneer appeared on Chen Fei’s face.

“With just you lot? Not even close!”

A flash of icy light passed through his eyes. Gripping the Edgeless Greatsword, he swung it with full force.

The massive blade instantly shattered the formation, and the momentum continued, crashing toward the group of evil cultivators.

Zhu Lin’s face changed dramatically. He swung his hooked blade upward, trying to divert the sword’s trajectory.

But to his shock, the moment his weapon touched the Edgeless Greatsword, an enormous rebound force surged through him, numbing his arm and nearly disarming him.

Zhu Lin stumbled back three full steps before managing to neutralize the blow.

“Y-You’re not Yuan Realm!”

He looked at Chen Fei in horror, then snapped his head toward the Eight Ghosts.

Without the slightest hesitation, Eight Ghosts turned and disappeared into the yellow sand.

“Bastard!”

Zhu Lin cursed, not expecting Eight Ghosts to really run away!

Turning back around, the few remaining Yuan Realm peak cultivators were already reduced to piles of yellow sand.

A moment ago, Zhu Lin stood with a massive advantage.

Now, he was all alone.

“Looks like your people are pretty fast runners,” Chen Fei said mockingly.

Zhu Lin’s expression darkened. Things had gone way beyond what he’d expected—especially now that Chen Fei had clearly broken into the Mysterious Realm. That kind of strength made Zhu Lin extremely cautious.

He moved lightly, eyes never leaving Chen Fei.

At that moment, the sand behind Zhu Lin stirred.

Zhu Lin’s face lit up.

“Peach Blossom! Over here! Be careful, it’s Chen Fei!”

But then—his joy froze solid.

It wasn’t Peach Blossom Fairy behind him.

Instead, he saw a face as cold as frost.

In that instant, a chill ran down his spine.

Turning his head quickly, he found Chen Fei already closing in, sword raised!

“Soul Locking Hook! Retreat!”

Zhu Lin threw out his hooked blade, which was chained to his arm by a faint green flame. It danced wildly through the air, trying to push Chen Fei back.

But before Zhu Lin could do anything else, ice began to spread beneath his feet.

The cold pierced deep into his bones.

In this scorching, wind-blown desert, the sudden drop in temperature was surreal—the true experience of fire and ice colliding.

Feeling the numbness crawling up from his soles, Zhu Lin looked up in panic. His arm whipped in circles, attempting to fully entangle Chen Fei’s sword with the Soul Locking Hook.

And at that moment—he finally felt death breathing down his neck.

“Chen Fei! Leng Yue!”

Peach Blossom Fairy’s furious voice cut through the storm.

“You finally showed up,” said the Saintess of Cold Moon, eyes flashing with a hint of cold fury.

Everything she had suffered since descending the mountain—was because of that woman.

Though Leng Yue didn’t regret her path, facing the one who caused all this, she didn’t hesitate.

She raised a hand.

In a blink, the raging winds were frozen mid-air, and the collision between heat and extreme cold created sharp, ear-piercing explosions.

Leng Yue frowned slightly.

The Dusky Sand Dunes limited her abilities far more than she liked. That wasn’t a good sign.

Luckily, she had recently broken through. Even if the blazing sands disrupted her, she was now in the Human Manifestation Realm—and that power wouldn’t be stopped so easily.

“Y-You broke through?”

Peach Blossom Fairy’s eyes widened. Her face paled instantly.

That meant catching Chen Fei now would be much more difficult.

She instinctively looked toward Chen Fei.

At this point, he had already reached Zhu Lin.

Zhu Lin was still frantically spinning the Soul Locking Hook, trying to keep the Edgeless Greatsword at bay.

But it was obviously useless.

With a flick of Chen Fei’s wrist, mysterious runes lit up across his blade. The green chains binding the weapon snapped apart instantly.

A twisted black face appeared on the Soul Locking Hook. Its gaping mouth lunged at Chen Fei with malice and hunger.

Chen Fei raised his head calmly.

From his forehead, the ancestral sigil of the Chen bloodline flared into golden light.

Bathed in that brilliance, the grotesque face screamed, wailing pitifully before disintegrating into black smoke and vanishing completely.

Zhu Lin coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The Soul Locking Hook was his life-bound artifact, and now it had been destroyed violently by Chen Fei, directly shaking his cultivation foundation. His body trembled, spitting more dark blood.

Chen Fei didn’t give him time to recover.

The Edgeless Greatsword cleaved downward.

Though a Mysterious Realm expert, and one who had likely lived for centuries, Zhu Lin wasn’t about to surrender.

Somehow, a folding fan appeared in his hand.

With a crisp snap, he opened it and blocked the strike behind his back.

The moment the blade touched it, it was like slicing into cotton—soft, yielding, and hard to exert any force on.

“Interesting,” Chen Fei muttered, slightly impressed.

But Zhu Lin didn’t dare meet Chen Fei’s eyes.

He knew all too well—if he wanted to live, there was only one option: run.

He couldn’t fight Chen Fei head-on anymore.

Using the fan to parry the blow, Zhu Lin gritted his teeth and fled into the yellow sands.

Chen Fei blinked in surprise.

“Did he… lose his mind?”

The true terror of the Dusky Sand Dunes wasn’t just the yellow wind—it was the ever-shifting sands themselves.

Peach Blossom Fairy, watching Zhu Lin dive into the sand, also frowned deeply.

Clearly, Zhu Lin had been pushed to the brink, desperate enough to take such a reckless path.

But could he really escape?

Everyone instinctively turned to follow his path with their eyes.

At first, the fleeing trail looked normal. It seemed he might really make it out.

But just as he was about to reach Peach Blossom—

A horrific scream pierced the air.

Zhu Lin erupted from the sand, his body covered in bloody wounds, his appearance savage and terrifying.

Even the seasoned evil cultivators were stunned, forced to watch in horror as the yellow sand formed tendrils, coiling around Zhu Lin’s limbs—dragging him back into the depths below.