infodatos Chapter 157 The Evil Path Runs Rampant
Chapter 157 The Evil Path Runs Rampant
Su Muyue stood beside Chu Fan, her hands forming a hand seal, her Martial Emperor Guardian bloodline operating at full power. Golden array patterns flowed from her fingertips, like luminous threads, wrapping around the surface of the light barrier, purifying the evil energy constantly seeping from the ferocious beasts. The evil energy, upon touching the golden array patterns, was purified like ink dropped into clear water, before it could even spread. But the quantity of evil energy was too great, surging continuously from the horde of ferocious beasts and from the Void Breaking Realm evil disciple lurking deep in the forest, like a black river constantly washing over the light barrier. Su Muyue's face grew paler and paler, the beads of sweat on her forehead thickened, and her lips changed from rosy to pale, then to bluish-purple.
Su Ling'er led the medics to set up a makeshift medical station behind the city wall. There were no tents, no beds, only a few door panels laid on a wooden frame, covered with a layer of straw, and then a layer of old cloth. Wounded soldiers were carried down; some had broken arms, some had broken legs, and some had gashes torn open in their chests by the fangs of ferocious beasts, revealing their ribs. Su Ling'er's medicine box was almost empty. She crushed the last few healing pills, sprinkled them on the wounds, and bandaged them up. When she ran out of bandages, she tore the medics' shirts into strips and used them as bandages. She knelt beside a young soldier whose leg had been bitten off by a ferocious beast; the wound was a bloody mess, with bone fragments exposed. His lips trembled, his face was as white as paper, but he didn't cry out in pain; he just clenched his teeth tightly, the veins on his forehead bulging. Su Ling'er put a painkiller into his mouth, covered his mouth with her hand, and made him hold it in his mouth without chewing, letting it dissolve slowly. Her hand was trembling, but her voice was not.
Leng Feng stood inside the city gate, his battle sword held horizontally before him, its dark red runes glowing in the night like flowing lava. Behind him stood fifty elite soldiers, each gripping their weapon, standing at their positions. No one spoke, no one moved, waiting only for the moment the city gate would be breached, so they could rush out and cut back the surging beasts. No one wanted that moment to come, but if it did, no one would retreat.
The battle lasted for two hours. The ferocious beasts' offensive showed no signs of abating; on the contrary, it intensified. The area beneath the city walls was piled high with the corpses of the beasts, the mounds even higher than the walls themselves. The beasts behind climbed over the bodies of their fallen comrades, almost reaching the battlements. The light barrier, eroded by the evil power, grew thinner and thinner, its golden luster fading, the array patterns dimming like a lamp slowly going out. Blood trickled from Su Muyue's lips, dripping down her chin onto the city walls and onto the dimming array patterns. The golden light and the red blood mingled together, creating a bizarre and tragic scene.
Lin Chen looked up at the northern sky.
There was a person there. Not standing on the city wall, not on the mountaintop, but suspended in mid-air. He stood there without any support, as if stepping on an invisible floor. His black robe fluttered in the night wind, and he wore a bronze mask with twisted and eerie patterns, like countless tormented faces superimposed upon each other. Evil energy surged around him, not the thin, misty kind, but a thick, ink-like evil energy that coalesced into black crows circling overhead, emitting hoarse cries.
Breaking Void Realm. Lin Chen had never witnessed a Breaking Void Realm expert at full power, but he didn't need to. The aura alone was enough for him to understand the true meaning of difference. It wasn't a difference in quantity, but a difference in quality, a difference in the level of life, the difference between an ant and a dragon.
"A bunch of ants dare to obstruct the evil lord's great cause."
The wicked man's voice came from mid-air, not loud, but extremely penetrating, like an invisible awl piercing everyone's ears. His tone was flat, as if he were talking about something insignificant. Ants blocking the way, just crush them with a flick of the wrist.
He raised his hand and casually waved it. It wasn't a hand seal, nor was it the activation of any spell; it was just a casual wave, like shooing away a fly. A massive black, malevolent claw flew from his palm. The claw had five fingers, each as thick as an adult's arm, with sharp, blade-like tips. The back of the claw was covered in black scales, exuding a ferocious aura that seemed to devour everything, as it reached for the light barrier of the defensive array.
There was no loud noise. Only a crisp "crack," like glass shattering.
A massive crack appeared on the light screen, stretching from top to bottom, like a wound cleaved by a sharp blade. At the crack's edges, the golden array patterns rapidly dimmed, like flames extinguished by the wind. Chu Fan, reeling from the backlash of the array, felt as if struck in the chest by a heavy hammer. A sweet taste rose in his throat, and he spat out a mouthful of blood, staggering several steps backward before collapsing to the ground. His glasses flew off, landing on the floor with shattered lenses. He lay there, groping for his glasses, but couldn't find them after a long search.
Swept by the aftershocks of the evil force, Su Muyue was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the battlements of the city wall before falling to the ground. She struggled to get up, her arms bracing themselves for a moment before collapsing again. Lying on the ground, blood smeared from her mouth, her breathing rapid and erratic, but her eyes remained open, fixed on the black figure suspended in mid-air. There was no fear in her eyes, only a defiant and rebellious light.
"Mu Yue!" Lin Chen cried out in alarm, leaping into the air. He gathered all his star energy into the Star Sword and slashed at the evil figure. The silvery-white sword arced across the night sky like a shooting star, falling towards the black-clad figure.
The villain didn't even turn around. He merely tilted his head slightly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the silver sword light flying towards him. His lips twitched, not in a smile, but in disdain, a disdain born of utter ignorance.
He swung his palm out with a backhand strike. There was no power gathering, no aiming, not even a serious expression. The strike was casual, as if he were swatting a mosquito that flew right in front of him.
The black palm wind collided with the silver sword rainbow. There was no explosion, no loud noise, only a dull sound, like something being crushed. Lin Chen's sword rainbow couldn't even withstand the black palm wind for a moment, like a match thrown into a waterfall, dissipating before even a wisp of smoke could rise. The black palm wind continued its momentum, slamming heavily into Lin Chen's chest. Lin Chen felt an overwhelming force, a force he couldn't resist, couldn't neutralize, and couldn't even comprehend. His body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, tumbling several times in the air before crashing heavily into the city wall, bouncing back, and sliding several meters away, leaving a long trail of blood on the city wall.
He lay on the ground, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. Blood gushed from his mouth, from his nose, from his ears, unstoppable. His body was convulsing, not because he wanted to, but because the vital energy within his meridians was out of control, like a herd of frightened wild horses rampaging through his body, tearing apart his meridians, muscles, and bones.
"Lin Chen!" Li Kuangdao's voice boomed like a muffled thunderclap. Ignoring his injuries, the sleeve of his severed left arm fluttered in the wind, while his right hand gripped the hundred-pound machete. The iron rings on the machete clanged rapidly, a rapid, urgent sound like a death knell. He leaped into the air, raising the machete high above his head, aiming to cleave the evil man's head. "Your opponent is me!"
The villain finally turned around and faced Li Kuangdao directly. His gaze was no longer as nonchalant as before, but it didn't seem particularly serious either; he was simply looking at a slightly troublesome, but still insignificant, opponent.
"Li Kuangdao, you're injured, you're no match for me."
He was telling the truth. The bandage on Li Kuangdao's left chest had burst open, and blood was seeping from the wound, soaking his entire garment. Blood dripped from the hem and drifted in the night wind. He had only one arm, yet he wielded a hundred-pound sword. His movements were no longer as agile as before, his swordsmanship no longer as sharp, and his inner energy no longer as powerful. He was merely a wounded, weary, and cornered old man, standing atop the highest point of the city wall, facing an enemy many times stronger than himself.
But his hands were steady, his knife was steady, and his eyes were bright.
The wicked man and Li Kuangdao were locked in a fierce battle. Black evil energy and cyan blade energy collided in mid-air, exploding into bursts of light. Each strike of Li Kuangdao's broadsword carried the blood and experience he had honed over thirty years of fighting on the border, each aimed at the wicked man's vitals—throat, heart, dantian. But the wicked man's cultivation was too high; every attack was easily neutralized, and each counterattack from the wicked man added another wound to Li Kuangdao's body. A black light grazed Li Kuangdao's ribs, slicing off a piece of flesh; a wicked claw struck Li Kuangdao's chest, shattering two of his ribs; a black mist coiled around Li Kuangdao's severed arm, devouring his remaining true energy.
Li Kuangdao was retreating. Not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. His steps grew increasingly erratic, his swordsmanship slower, and his breathing more rapid. Blood was flowing from the corners of his mouth, his ears, and his nose. He resembled a stone statue on the verge of shattering, cracks spreading across his entire body, ready to collapse at any moment.
But he didn't fall. He kept swinging his sword. His sword kept swinging, each swing with all his might, each swing like a shout. The words were unspoken, but everyone who saw him swing his sword could hear them. The words were: As long as I am here, the wall stands. The wall is behind me, you are behind me. If I retreat, they will be exposed. I cannot retreat.