Chapter 165
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Chapter 165: The Shadow of the Spirit Mountain
On the battlefield of the heavens, the sky was split in two—one half drenched in blood-red like spilled ink, the other radiant as the midday sun. Above the sea of blood and mountains of corpses, a murky black fog lingered, mingling with the fading embers of crimson flames. Shadows cascaded from the ancient pavilion above, casting an ominous presence over the scene.
The Tian Yan Tribe’s forces surged endlessly, an unrelenting tide, while the human race’s armored guards struggled to hold their Battle Formation. Their Heavy Armor was battered and broken, their eyes clouded with blood and shadow. The carnage was beyond words.
Nineteen, her black clothes stained with blood, sat atop the ancient pavilion, her hands deftly maneuvering the array flags. Below, Ming He and Feng Xin stood at the edge of a deep pit, encircled by the Tian Yan Tribe. Yet, their gazes were drawn to a distant figure cloaked in red.
It was a woman in a flowing crimson robe, her ink-black hair cascading to her waist. Barefoot, she glided through the void, each step stirring a tempest of dust and wind. Her approach was thunderous, her presence suffused with an air of lethal intent.
Her icy gaze fell upon Feng Xin, and with a flick of her sleeve, she summoned a blade-like gust of wind that swept over the Tian Yan Tribe, obliterating them in an instant.
Her movements were sharp, decisive, and carried a cold arrogance that seemed to challenge the very air around her.
“Qin Chu Yi!” He Lou Feng murmured, her voice low and laced with murderous intent as she glanced down at the battlefield below.
“Senior Sister!” Ming He’s voice trembled with suppressed excitement, her eyes fixed on the red figure. Her gaze was a mix of longing and concern, and even the hand that had steadied Feng Xin moments ago slackened in her distraction.
“Hey, hey, Little Ming He, don’t forget about me!” Feng Xin swayed unsteadily, clutching Ming He’s garment to keep herself upright.
Her sidelong glance caught Qin Chu Yi’s cold, imposing demeanor, and a sly smile curled her lips. She leaned closer to Ming He, her voice weak but teasing: “I did save your life, after all.”
Her breath was warm against Ming He’s ear, and with her red robe billowing in the wind, the two of them formed a striking image—red and blue intertwined.
To an outsider, it might have looked like an intimate embrace.
Nineteen, seated atop the ancient pavilion, watched the scene unfold with a faint smile. She could feel Qin Chu Yi’s growing tension, and her gaze lingered on the trio with quiet amusement, as though she were studying a complex formation.
“Sorry,” Ming He murmured, her cheeks flushing as she averted her gaze. She steadied Feng Xin, though the heat of her breath made her uneasy.
Ming He hesitated, torn between leading Feng Xin to safety and rushing to her Senior Sister’s aid. But before she could decide, she felt a piercing gaze burning into her back—intense and impossible to ignore.
She turned to find Qin Chu Yi standing nearby, her bare feet hovering above the void. The Tian Yan Tribe that had blocked her path were gone, reduced to nothing. Qin Chu Yi’s eyes were dark, cold, and unreadable as they settled on Ming He.
The weight of that gaze made Ming He’s heart skip. Feng Xin’s grip on her garment tightened, and the moment felt… strange.
Qin Chu Yi’s gaze lingered on Ming He’s hand, the one supporting Feng Xin. A flicker of irritation crossed her features, though she quickly masked it.
She knew the visions from her breakthrough were illusions, but the emotions they stirred were real.
The woman in red stood silent for a moment, her concern outweighing her pride. She knew Ming He favored blue clothes, but now, her attire was barely recognizable—torn and stained with blood.
Beneath the tattered fabric were gruesome wounds, dark and clotted, evidence of a battle fought to the brink.
Qin Chu Yi’s spiritual sense reached out, revealing the shattered veins within Ming He’s body. Her heart ached, and her voice softened, trembling with emotion: “Ming He… are you alright?”
Her tone was tender, a warmth reserved only for Ming He.
“I’m fine,” Ming He replied, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her eyes. Seeing Qin Chu Yi, she felt a strange sense of peace. Even the thought of dying here no longer seemed so daunting.
Because her Senior Sister was by her side, Ming He felt a profound sense of calm.
Ming He exhaled deeply, her lips curving into a radiant smile. “Senior Sister, I’m fine.”
After speaking, she bent down to lift Feng Xin, whose face had grown increasingly pale and whose body trembled uncontrollably. She glanced around the battlefield, then with a light step, ascended into the air, stepping onto the black mist that swirled around her. She soared upward, landing gracefully atop the ancient pavilion where Nineteen sat.
She carefully placed Feng Xin in the shadow cast by the Four-direction Compass, closed her eyes, and channeled its power. Using her spiritual energy, she reinforced Feng Xin’s life force, ensuring her safety for the time being.
When she opened her eyes, she met Nineteen’s teasing and observant gaze. Nineteen had even diverted half her attention from the array flags to watch Ming He’s movements.
Ming He: “…”
Perhaps her bewildered expression was too genuine, for Nineteen smirked and looked away, just as a sudden tremor shook the heavens and earth, cutting off whatever she had been about to say.
“Boom!”
The sound was louder than thunder.
Ming He’s eyes widened instinctively as she turned toward Qin Chu Yi. The woman’s red attire billowed in the fierce wind, her long black hair swirling wildly around her.
Qin Chu Yi’s slender, pale hands moved swiftly, forming a complex and majestic incantation. In the next moment, her body was enveloped in a blazing white light, her aura immense and untouchable.
Within a ten-mile radius centered on her, the members of the Tian Yan Tribe were instantly reduced to dust, scattering into the sea of blood before vanishing into nothingness.
Her unmatched grace was truly unparalleled.
Qin Chu Yi’s presence brought a shock to the battlefield of the heavens that was far from over.
Accompanied by a deafening explosion, a massive black shadow approached from the other end of the battlefield at an unstoppable speed, hovering directly above the central pavilion.
Beneath this black shadow, the breath of the human race’s practitioners grew heavy and stagnant. Their minds and movements were paralyzed by this formidable presence, rendering them unable to act.
The Tian Yan Tribe fared even worse.
Their bodies were filled with an unknown force, swelling as if they might burst at any moment. Black blood seeped from their entire bodies, a grotesque and unbearable sight.
An unusual light flickered in Ming He’s eyes. She held her gaze steady, facing the magnificent and ancient aura emanating from the massive black shadow. She soon realized its true form.
It was a mountain—a steep and majestic Spirit Mountain that stretched across the skies, so high it seemed to touch the clouds, encompassing vast lands.
At its midpoint loomed a dark, eerie gate, resembling the gaping maw of an ancient fierce beast. It exuded a sharp, dangerous aura that made her soul tremble with fear.
She had seen this mountain before.
On Canglang Island in the central region.
It was the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain, a realm unto itself, where the laws of heaven operated flawlessly.
Born from the remnants of ancient emperors’ spirits, the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain had already been refined by her Senior Sister.
“Human race practitioners, heed my command—”
Qin Chu Yi closed her eyes, extending her spiritual sense to envelop the battlefield. Her hands moved swiftly, weaving incantations to stir the aura of the Spirit Mountain. Her slightly pale lips parted, and her voice, cold and commanding, echoed clearly across the battlefield of the heavens: “Retreat!”
The lingering sound resonated throughout the battlefield, carrying a unique rhythmic force.
The human race practitioners in Battle Formation halted, their eyes filled with admiration and reverence as they gazed at the woman in red standing above them.
Without hesitation, they tightened their grips on their spears and hurled them in unison. The momentum of their formation shifted instantly, roaring like tigers and howling like dragons, charging forth like wolves and scattering like smoke.
In mere moments, tens of thousands of human race practitioners had created distance between themselves and the Tian Yan Tribe.
The woman in red, with her fluttering attire and unmatched grace, was Qin Chu Yi—the Young Master of the Qin Clan, the head of the Ancient Clan, and a stunning figure who had emerged twenty-seven years ago with the brilliance of the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb.
Moreover, her aura unmistakably belonged to the Earth Emperor Realm at this moment.
Thus, they placed their trust in her without hesitation!
He Lou Feng watched the swiftly shifting tides of battle, her gaze hardening as an instinctive sense of foreboding gripped her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were swallowed by the deafening roar of the Spirit Mountain’s tremors.
“Boom!”
Another earth-shattering explosion reverberated, causing the ears of the Tian Yan Tribe to bleed incessantly.
Under Qin Chu Yi’s command, the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain contracted in size.
The fiery woman in red cast a fleeting glance at the retreating human race’s armored guards, a faint smile tugging at her lips, her expression a blend of pride and audacity.
She took pride in the unparalleled brilliance of the human race’s Battle Formation, in their unwavering trust in her, and in their seamless, instinctive cooperation.
Her slender fingers danced, weaving profound Dao principles into existence. The winds shifted, the clouds churned, and the oppressive shadow began to disperse the layers of mist that cloaked the heavens.
The shrunken Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain swayed precariously, veering away from the central pavilion and ascending above the Tian Yan Tribe’s army. The dark shadow loomed over them, no longer a dominion exclusive to the human race.
Under their terrified gazes, the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain descended slowly, its surface streaked with blood that trickled into a crimson sea. Black fog billowed from beneath the Spirit Mountain, and in an instant, a wave of Tian Yan Tribe members perished on the spot.
The air reeked of decay and death.
Qin Chu Yi’s eyes were cold as ice, her hands never ceasing their intricate movements. The ancient Spirit Mountain trembled and rose once more, then descended with an unstoppable force, crushing the ground into a gruesome pulp of flesh and bone.
A ray of light pierced through the mist, illuminating the Tian Yan Tribe army, and the anguished cries of the dying echoed across the land.
The surviving members of the Tian Yan Tribe gazed up at the inescapable shadow above them, and memories of bloodshed flooded their minds.
It was as if they were once again trampled like weeds, their lives and deaths dictated by another’s will. This was not their first encounter with such despair.
The methods of that woman in red felt hauntingly familiar.
Some of the Tian Yan Tribe shifted their eyes to the top of the ancient pavilion, where Ming He stood, and a sudden realization dawned on them.
They remembered!
They recalled why this despair felt so achingly familiar.
Because they had endured it once before.
It was as overwhelming and brutal as the crushing force of Zichan Cave.
Ming He met their resentful stares and touched her nose, only to catch Nineteen grinning at her with unbridled delight, her eyes sparkling with a clear message: “As expected of a Dao partner—our thoughts are in sync! Look at this flair and method of wielding spiritual treasures against the enemy—it’s just the same. Well done!”
Ming He: “……”
What could she possibly say?
“Kill her first!” roared a sentient Tian Yan Tribe member, his fingers sprouting sharp black claws as he summoned the surrounding fog to strike. “That mountain requires immense spiritual energy to unleash its power. She can’t possibly fend us off now!”
The other Tian Yan Tribe members, convinced by his reasoning, ignored the struggling human race’s armored guards below and the hundreds of Earth Emperor Realm experts in the central pavilion. They surged through the void, their killing moves aimed squarely at Qin Chu Yi, their eyes gleaming with malice.
Ming He’s heart clenched. She glanced back at Nineteen, her eyes conveying a silent plea: “Stay safe.” Then, like a gust of wind, she darted through the mist, her wrist flicking to summon the Jing Ying Sword from afar, ready to aid Qin Chu Yi.
“Stop the other human race members!” the enraged Tian Yan Tribe member barked, his fists clenched as he channeled his energy, tightening the encirclement around Qin Chu Yi to prevent her escape.
“Yes,” the other Tian Yan Tribe members murmured in unison, diverting a portion of their forces to block Ming He, Qin Huai Yuan, and the other human race members rushing to assist.
Below, the Tian Yan Tribe army scattered, their hands reaching out to disrupt the golden light encircling the ancient pavilion. Nineteen, seated atop the ancient pavilion, coughed up blood once more, her body trembling violently.
The human race’s armored guards, noticing the shift, tightened their grips on their weapons. The long spear that had been hurled earlier returned to their hands, and with swift, practiced movements, they reestablished their battle formation.
Ming He’s heart was gripped by urgency. Her right hand clenched her sword, slicing through a swirling black fog, yet she found herself unable to break free, forced to fight while stealing glances at Qin Chu Yi’s situation from the corner of her eye.
The spiritual energy drained by the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain was indeed vast.
With her current cultivation at the seventh level of the Human King stage, Ming He could only summon the Zichan War Cave once.
Here in the central pavilion, after gathering the blood essence of the foreign tribe within her heart and setting up the Ancient Formation of Heaven, her remaining spiritual energy was insufficient to move the War Cave. Thus, she had no choice but to rely on the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array to defend herself.
Qin Chu Yi, however, was a practitioner of the Earth Emperor Realm. Though only at its lower levels, it was still a significant leap, allowing her to hold her ground with effort.
The woman flicked her sleeve, using a subtle motion to deflect the powerful energy surge from the Tian Yan Tribe member, struggling to step out of the encirclement. Then, she lifted her gaze and immediately spotted Ming He amidst the sea of people.
Her fiery red sleeves swept through like a tempest, rolling up a wave of cold frost, pushing the Tian Yan Tribe members aside.
Qin Chu Yi’s bloodstained crimson garment trailed through the mist as she stepped closer to Ming He, reaching out to pull her into an embrace, leaning down to close the distance.
They were so close that their breaths mingled, sizzling with heat.
Ming He felt a wave of dizziness, her gaze catching the faint flutter of Qin Chu Yi’s dark eyelashes.
After the fierce battle, her exquisite face was spattered with blood, creating a few crimson spots like decorative red plums, adding an alluring beauty, akin to a captivating red fox.
Qin Chu Yi’s lips bore a mix of pale color and blood, one side radiant and mesmerizing. As her lips parted slightly, her cold and deep voice reached Ming He’s ears, echoing in her heart.
She said, “Little Ming He, lend me some Star Power.”
Her voice resonated across the battlefield of the heavens.
Nineteen felt a chuckle rising within her again.
This line was something Feng Xin had said before.
The tone, demeanor, and the shadowy depth in Qin Chu Yi’s gaze mirrored Feng Xin from that time.
The sincerity of the request was low, but the teasing intent was strong.
Ming He raised her eyes, her thoughts momentarily frozen. She questioned whether she had misheard; how could Qin Chu Yi say such a thing?
But she could only see the blood-red hem of Qin Chu Yi’s garment and the glistening blood at the corner of her eyes, which sparkled with amusement and a serious glint in those dark depths.
Ming He: Eyes wide in surprise.
But where would she find Star Power?
She had used her Star Lock to its fullest during this battle, the last trace of Star Power spent to protect Feng Xin’s heart from the chilling invasion. At this moment, her Star Lock lay dormant, utterly depleted.
Allowing Qin Chu Yi to hold her tightly, Ming He extended her arms to encircle her waist in an attempt to straighten up. Before she could speak, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and a perfectly exquisite face materialized in her vision.
Strands of hair brushed against her eyes in the wind, stirring a delicate tickle.
The blood-red attire intertwined with a hint of blue, fluttering majestically.
The Tian Yan Tribe’s killing moves closed in from all sides.
Meanwhile, Qin Chu Yi, barefoot in the void, held her body with one hand, bending down and sealing her lips.
