Chapter 619

Chapter 619: A Whip Shattered

The Xuan Yuan Devil Whip cracked with a thunderous snap, leaving a faint scar in the void. Though fleeting, it revealed the weapon’s terrifying might.

Stretching over ten zhang, the whip lashed through the air. The distorted space trembled as a figure plummeted down—unharmed but ragged, landing within the boundary of the small flags.

"You can’t escape," Master Hei Xu remarked calmly.

Ling Mo Cheng rose, his robes shredded. Protected by the array from the flags, he remained physically unscathed but knew escape was futile.

"Master Hei Xu, dare you oppose the Misty Sect? You know I’m an elder!" Ling Mo Cheng barked, fear thinly veiled behind aggression.

Master Hei Xu’s face turned icy, all hesitation gone. "You court death; I’ll oblige. And now that all have witnessed the Devil Whip’s awakening… do you think I fear consequences?"

Ling Mo Cheng paled. "Spare me, and I’ll repay you. Anything within my power—"

Master Hei Xu laughed. "What could you offer? Your cultivation methods? The Burning Heaven Sword? Pathetic."

Terror gripped Ling Mo Cheng as killing intent thickened. "Wait! I’ll share a secret!"

"What secret?" Master Hei Xu’s voice dripped frost.

Ling Mo Cheng stepped closer, glancing around. "If I speak… will you spare me?"

"Only if it pleases me greatly."

Lowering his voice, Ling Mo Cheng whispered, "Beyond the Great Qin Empire lies a realm under the Moon Goddess Palace. Near her domain hides a void space—sometimes grain-sized, sometimes fist-sized—opening randomly every thousand years."

Master Hei Xu’s brow lifted. "The Xumi Treasure?"

"Exactly! I know its next opening. Spare me, and it’s yours."

After a pause, Master Hei Xu nodded. "Adequate."

Ling Mo Cheng grinned. "You’re a sect master, a pinnacle Nascent Soul expert—your honor binds you."

"Honor?" Master Hei Xu snorted. "Prove this treasure exists."

Ling Mo Cheng produced a jade tablet. "Its location and time are imprinted here—indescribable in words."

Master Hei Xu scanned it with his spirit perception. "Six months… intriguing."

"Then I depart. May the treasure aid your ascent to sainthood!" Ling Mo Cheng turned to flee.

A black whip snapped through the air, splitting him mid-stride. His torso crashed down, severed.

"You… promised…" Ling Mo Cheng gasped, staring at his missing lower half.

"I said *if* it pleased me. Dead men keep secrets best."

Ling Mo Cheng coughed blood, crumpling lifelessly—spirit extinguished.