Chapter Seventy-Two: The Master's Friends
Song Yue had the driver assigned by Xiao Meng take him directly to his mentor’s house.
Upon arrival, he immediately relayed the events of that evening’s banquet to his mentor.
The old scholar said, “Wei Jun is a decent man. He’s achieved much in Hangzhou over these years. Now that he’s about to take up a higher post, he’s a little uneasy about the situation here, so he wanted to meet you, encourage you, and ensure Hangzhou’s safety.”
In such times, departments in charge of public order could only handle ordinary cases. Once monsters or demons were involved, the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs had to step in. For a responsible official, Wei Jun’s actions were only natural. It was simply unfortunate that a peaceful gathering ended in such turmoil.
“The Li family in the capital is a clan of ancient lineage. In such families, it’s normal for the younger generation to vary in talent and character. But if they’ve sought you out, it’s likely related to those recent cases involving demon cultivators.”
The scholar sighed softly. Human-demon collusion—he knew it all too well. Had it not been for this, he wouldn’t have ended up as he had. So he warned Song Yue to proceed with the utmost caution.
“Don’t forget your original intentions, but you must also learn to use tactics. You’re clever and know how to endure. If necessary, first see what they’re after.”
Song Yue nodded, assuring his understanding.
That night, he took medicine at his mentor’s house and continued to work on breaking through his body’s acupoints. He was like a starving man ravenous for bread, seizing every moment to advance.
The next morning, just as Song Yue left the residential complex, he saw a luxury van parked outside. As he emerged, the door slid open automatically and Li Bing’s smiling face greeted him.
“Good morning, Director Song!”
Song Yue paused to look at him.
Li Bing, all sincerity, said, “Last night’s incident was a misunderstanding. Could we find somewhere to talk?”
One does not strike a smiling man. Though the younger brother had been a scoundrel, acting every inch the reckless rich second generation, this one at least seemed reasonable.
Song Yue nodded and got into the van.
The vehicle took them to a teahouse. Li Bing suggested, “Let’s have some tea while we chat.”
Upon arrival, staff were waiting at the entrance, ushering them respectfully into a private room. The place was elegant and high-end, with few people about so early. Once inside, a tea master skillfully brewed tea for them, then withdrew in silence, leaving only Song Yue and Li Bing.
“My name is Li Bing, from the Li family in the capital.” He introduced himself and then looked at Song Yue, “I’ve come to see you for two reasons.”
“Just call me Song Yue,” Song Yue replied. The official title always felt a little off when used too much.
“Alright, then I’ll get straight to the point.” Li Bing nodded. “First, about the recent cases in Hangzhou—I hope you’ll stop involving yourself. Wait, hear me out.”
He fixed his gaze on Song Yue. “We’re both smart men. You’re young, but to have become deputy director of the Bureau already proves your excellence. You have a bright future ahead. If we become friends, I believe the Li family can be an asset to your journey.”
Song Yue watched him in silence.
“Also, I’ve prepared a small gift for you.” As he spoke, Li Bing produced a tiny cube from his person.
A ripple appeared on Song Yue’s otherwise calm face. The cube was nearly identical to the one Meng Hong had given him, in both material and design, though a bit smaller—just the size of a marble.
Seeing Song Yue’s reaction, Li Bing smiled faintly. “You recognize this, I see. It’s a spatial artifact. Inside is a rare medicinal herb capable of bridging realms, a top-tier martial cultivation technique, a formation diagram, an ancient sword, and… one hundred million in cash.”
When Li Bing mentioned the formation diagram, Song Yue instantly connected this artifact to the Meng brothers. Coincidence? Was this a bribe or a veiled threat?
“These are but tokens of goodwill,” Li Bing continued. “As long as you turn a blind eye to what’s about to happen…”
He gave Song Yue a sincere smile. “What you’ll gain is the friendship of the Li family.”
“We won’t make things difficult for you. We’ll be more discreet; nothing like last time will happen again.”
“In such a vast region, with over a hundred million people, is a few homicides a day really that unusual?”
“Don’t you agree?”
Song Yue didn’t answer. He merely stared at the small cube on the table.
After a long while, he asked, “Isn’t this from the Meng family?”
Li Bing laughed. “You have a good eye! Yes, it’s said to be a Meng family artifact.”
Song Yue regarded him. “Don’t you know its origin?”
Li Bing put on an innocent face. “My subordinates prepared it, I really don’t know. Does it have a story? Maybe you can tell me?”
His voice and expression were the very picture of sincerity.
Song Yue suddenly smiled, “No story—just showing off, that’s all. Forgive my presumption.”
He flicked the cube into the air; it spun and fell back into his palm.
“Power is a wonderful thing,” Song Yue mused.
Li Bing laughed heartily.
“You mentioned two matters. Now that the first is settled, what’s the second?” Song Yue asked, his expression calm.
“Ah, the second… it’s rather tragic. You’ve been so gracious, I almost don’t want to bring it up. Perhaps… never mind.”
“Oh, come now, who stops halfway through a story?” Song Yue replied, “Let’s hear it.”
“Very well.” Li Bing straightened up. “The one you killed—Li Dong—was one of our family.”
“Oh? The demon cultivator?” Song Yue was surprised. “Wasn’t he just an ordinary person?”
“He was, but by chance he joined our family and was entered into the genealogy,” Li Bing said with regret. “Who would have thought he’d die like that?”
Would a great clan really add an outsider to their family tree? Song Yue felt his intelligence was being insulted. He was certain the Li family made up a fake genealogy to trick those who served them.
Even ordinary families wouldn’t casually add outsiders, much less a demon cultivator. The Li family, a prominent clan, wouldn’t do something so foolish.
“So, he was a demon cultivator. Why accept such a man?” Song Yue asked quietly.
Li Bing looked at him. “You’re being old-fashioned. Even someone ten years your senior like me is more open-minded. Think about Li Dong—before he killed that family, did he harm anyone else? No, right?”
Song Yue thought, “How would I know? The dead can’t testify.” Demon cultivators not harming people? Like vampires living on rabbit blood?
“That family caused his mother’s death. Isn’t that deserving of retribution?” Li Bing’s face showed righteous indignation. “If someone hurt your parents, wouldn’t you want to kill their entire family?”
“That’s a poor analogy,” Song Yue replied coolly. “You’re welcome to use yourself as an example.”
Li Bing was briefly at a loss, but quickly laughed it off. He looked sincerely at Song Yue. “Li Dong’s case is in the past. Let’s look to the future.”
Song Yue regarded him. “I’m curious about something.”
But before he could ask, Li Bing grew solemn. “Song Yue—some things are better left unasked.”
“Don’t be too curious. Life is beautiful. You’re young, talented, powerful, and wealthy; you should be enjoying life—fine clothes, fast horses, beautiful women, good wine…”
He smiled. “Why meddle in chaos? Remember, the Li clan has stood for a thousand years for a reason. Everything in this world is as it is for a reason. Don’t judge everything by your own values. What isn’t like you isn’t necessarily wrong.”
His tone grew more earnest. “In ancient times, great demon cultivators would slaughter cities for their cultivation—hundreds of thousands as blood sacrifice. By the world’s standards, they should have been torn to pieces, yet they ascended as patriarchs, founders of sects! With so many mighty beings in the immortal realm, why not destroy the demons?”
“So, remember: there’s no real justice in this world. Everyone acts for themselves first.”
He spoke with such fervor that he almost let slip, “A martial genius like you would make an ideal vessel for demon cultivation…”
Realizing his slip, he laughed it off. “But to each their own—no one will force you.”
Song Yue watched him quietly. “So, you’re saying these cases of slaughter will continue?”
Li Bing replied, “Vengeance—pure and simple! We have the means, and… we won’t make things too hard for you.”
Song Yue smiled. “Not too hard? Even infants, barely opening their eyes to the world, are drained of life. The innocent, young and old, living peacefully, are slaughtered in their own homes…”
He sighed. “Li Bing, don’t you find that cruel?”
Li Bing’s smile faded. He looked at Song Yue. “And what do you propose?”
Song Yue answered, “The Bureau’s headquarters is in the capital; your family is too. Shouldn’t you be talking to them, rather than coming all this way to see me?”
Li Bing was straightforward. “Local authority trumps distant officials. Hangzhou is your jurisdiction, so we came to you.”
Song Yue laughed. “So I’m the sheep to be fleeced?”
Li Bing gazed at him. “Are you unwilling?”
Song Yue sighed. “The waters run deep. First, figures from the cultivation world appear; now, your formidable family offers protection. Does it matter to you whether a minor figure like me agrees or not?”
Li Bing smiled. “You’re young, but your understanding runs deep. Frankly, it doesn’t matter much. Still, we’d prefer this to proceed smoothly, without mishaps. And while your resentment is understandable, know that this isn’t just about Hangzhou.”
“You needn’t think we’re bullying you.”
“Whether you accept the Li family’s friendship or oppose us—it’s all up to you.”
Song Yue pocketed the little cube and stood. “Alright, I understand. There’s a long road ahead.”
Li Bing’s smile returned. This young man was difficult, had his principles, but in the end chose to bow his head. A bit sentimental, perhaps, but smart.
“Then I’ll leave Hangzhou in your hands. If you need anything, just ask!” He handed Song Yue a fine business card. “This is my private number. Call anytime. If I miss it, I’ll return your call as soon as I see it.”
“Alright.”
Song Yue took the card and left.
Li Bing sipped the now-cold tea and muttered, “I hope you make the smart choice.”
Outside, Song Yue walked along the street for a while, then found a trash bin. He shattered the card with his internal energy and tossed the pieces in.
To hell with cooperation!
He hadn’t wanted the sugar-coated bribe. But the little cube was almost certainly the Meng brothers’. He had to retrieve it.
It was half a bribe, half a threat: obey and you get sweets; defy and you share the cube’s owner’s fate.
The cunning was breathtaking.
He felt a pang of frustration. Clearly, the other side wouldn’t stop easily; more innocents would die. Even if he had a full team, he couldn’t prevent it all.
To solve this, he’d need more than himself. The Li family, it seemed, was the mortal world’s avatar for the cultivation world. The sudden proliferation of demon cultivators meant a great game was afoot.
In times like these, allies were essential.
Exposing the Li family’s scheme was pointless; such a behemoth couldn’t be brought down even with hard evidence. That was why Li Bing’s younger brother had been so arrogant—they simply didn’t care about small fry like him.
At that moment, Lin Huan called to say she’d be coming in to work. Song Yue had wanted to consult his mentor, but changed his mind: better to see which families the Lin family was close to.
He hadn’t been back long at the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs when Lin Huan burst in, alone and full of energy. She wore revealing hot pants, showing off long, fair legs, with a cute bear-print T-shirt that was stretched a little too snugly. Her face was delicate and carried a touch of allure.
“Finally, back to work?” she asked.
“Where’s Xiao Mo?” Song Yue wondered, as the two were usually inseparable.
“She’s not feeling well today,” Lin Huan replied, eyeing Song Yue suspiciously. “Why do you look so troubled? Did you fight with your goddess Qian?”
Song Yue looked at her. “Sister, you’re sounding a bit coy today.”
She rolled her eyes. “So I care about you and you call me fake? Some people!”
Following him to the office, she sighed, “We’re so short-staffed. Can’t you hire more?”
Song Yue shook his head. “No one left—just a bird at home.”
She pouted. “Useless!”
He looked at her. “What’s your take on these demon cultivators?”
Lin Huan was taken aback. “What can you say? Cultivating through murder is inhuman. Such people deserve to be torn apart.”
Song Yue nodded. “And if the ones behind this are a respected top family?”
She glanced at him. “Why would a great clan do that? Are they mad?”
He walked to the window and gazed out. “Mad or not, they’re doing it. Lin Huan, which family is your Lin family connected to in China?”
She hesitated—the matter was somewhat of a family secret—but answered quickly, “The Duan family. Our ancestors were related by marriage, and we’ve been close ever since.”
Not the Li family—Song Yue was relieved.
Lin Huan’s enchanting eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me the Duan family is doing this?”
He shook his head. “No—it’s the Li family.”
She frowned. “What’s their goal?”
Song Yue didn’t answer. The Li family’s actions surely had a purpose. To ensure their plans weren’t ruined, they’d sent a family member to Hangzhou to threaten and bribe him.
The sugar coating was sweet, indeed.
After some thought, Lin Huan said, “I get it. I’ll contact my family and have them send experts over, using my safety as an excuse. I’ll have them seconded here, to the Bureau.”
“Don’t worry, Song Yue. I may not be a magnanimous man, but I can’t just watch innocent people be slaughtered.”
He looked at her. “Not so fake now!”
“Get lost!” she replied.
...
At his mentor’s house, after Song Yue recounted his meeting with Li Bing, the old scholar pondered. “The source of trouble in the mortal realm is the Li family. In the cultivation world… likely a demon sect. The Li family must have been promised something. Hold on, I’ll make some calls.”
He dialed, briefly explained, and waited. Within half an hour, news came back—the speaker’s deep voice on speakerphone.
“Old Lu, I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said. I just checked—what a mess!”
“What’s happened?” the scholar asked.
“They’ve been quietly selling off many assets, saying it’s for restructuring. They’ve also invested in new industries, but compared to the funds they’ve gained, it’s nothing.”
“More than half their direct bloodline has vanished without a trace. Based on your info, it’s likely they’ve entered the cultivation world.”
“This must be stopped. I’ll handle this—I’ll investigate. If those demon cultivators really are their doing, there must be an accounting.”
“And the cultivation world?”
“I’ll take care of it,” the scholar said.
After hanging up, he turned to Song Yue. “For the time being, focus on reaching Grandmaster level. Leave this matter to us.”
Song Yue looked at him with concern. “Master, what about the cultivation world…”
The scholar smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t get involved.”
He said not to worry, but how could Song Yue not feel anxious? The scholar assured him, “I’ll be right here at home, not going anywhere.”
Only then did Song Yue feel somewhat at ease.
After Song Yue left for his room, the scholar entered his Tongtian Stele, took an incense stick, lit it, and placed it in the censer. He then drew some yellowed talismans, murmured incantations, and burned them with his spell. The ashes fell into the censer.
When it was done, he looked pale—a self-mocking smile on his scholarly face. Even this was now a strain. How ironic.
The more he felt his age, the more he hoped Song Yue would not follow his path. He’d raised him to value justice, but also to know when to protect himself.
Charging headlong only brings endless pain.
...
The Ninth Pass.
A giant pagoda stood upon the land, radiating majesty.
Atop it, a young bald monk sat cross-legged, cultivating. Behind him, faint Buddhist light flickered. From his body, swastika-shaped symbols emerged—some gold, some silver, some black—each radiating a unique aura.
Every symbol represented a different power. This was both his method and his path.
Suddenly, the void rippled. The monk opened his eyes toward the disturbance.
Moments later, a refined, middle-aged face appeared.
“Flower Monk, long time no see.”
The monk’s dignified facade vanished. He scowled, “Who are you calling Flower Monk? Old Lu, you bastard, still alive? Who was it that went and cursed the Three Pines Ancient Sect recently? I had to use several aliases to cover for you… Ah, why am I telling you this? You can’t even hear…”
“There’s something I need you to do—go to the Earth’s cultivation world…”
Hearing this, the monk burst out, “Old Lu, you’re heartless! After so many years, you finally contact me, just to send me on an errand? And such a dangerous one! No demon lord in the cultivation world is easy to deal with. Poor me, such weak cultivation, still at your beck and call. Annoying!”
Grumbling, he nonetheless acted quickly, retrieving a formation disk and caressing it with a wry smile.
“This thing was made by you, too. So many years have passed. Good thing I have no hair—otherwise it’d be all white…”
He walked to the window, looking out over the boundless world of the Ninth Pass. His pagoda governed a million-mile domain.
Since Lu Shengfu had left, the brothers-in-arms of old rarely contacted each other, each living in seclusion, no longer driven by the urge to exterminate the demon race.
Who would have thought Lu Shengfu would reach out after so many years? The others must have received word as well.
The monk shook his head, sighed, activated the disk, and in the next instant, arrived in a strange world.
This was the Earth’s cultivation world.
The first time he had come, it was with Lu Shengfu and a group of companions.
Many stories had unfolded here. Some old friends remained.
Taking out a communication talisman, he called out, “The Flower Monk is here—someone come greet me!”
A surprised voice responded, “What wind blows you here, Flower Monk?”
The monk rolled his eyes. “Blame Lu Shengfu’s demonic wind! Hurry up, I’m here on business.”
The reply: “Alright, alright. A few other old friends just arrived too—did you plan this?”
In the Eastern Continent of the cultivation world, the monk met several old brothers from the Ninth Pass. Their reunion was tinged with emotion—they hadn’t met in years, and to do so here was an odd twist of fate.
“Old Lu’s no good—he only gave us two formation disks, one for the cultivation world, one to keep on us. Clearly, he didn’t want us visiting Earth!” grumbled a burly man.
“It’s for our own good. If we visit him and get found out, it’ll cause trouble,” sighed a white-haired elder.
The monk asked, “Did Old Lu tell you what’s going on?”
They all nodded.
The burly man said, “He gave us a tough task, but doesn’t know who the enemy is.”
The monk turned to their most well-connected friend. “Zhang Cheng, any news of a demon lord about to break through?”
Zhang Cheng, a peak Nascent Soul cultivator, was widely connected. He smiled bitterly, “How would I know? Demon lords don’t send me invitations. Didn’t Old Lu go to the mortal world to marry and have kids? Why is he suddenly in conflict with a demon sect?”
“Enough chatter. Go investigate. Old Lu rarely asks us for help. We can’t mess it up,” the monk said. “We don’t have the manpower to fight every sect.”
Zhang Cheng resignedly began reaching out through his network.
While waiting, the group was joined by two more: a heroic-looking woman in bloodstained black armor wielding a halberd, and a youth with snow-white hair, radiating otherworldly aura.
The monk greeted the woman, “Still slaughtering every day, little sister?”
She shot back, “Why aren’t you lazing in your tower with your wives? What brings you here?”
He protested, “Amitabha, you’re all too biased against this poor monk!”
The white-haired youth smiled. “You’ve been busy cursing people lately, haven’t you?”
The monk replied piously, “A Buddhist would never curse. That’s slander.”
The youth let it go, greeting the others. The boyish-looking man asked, “Heard you recently made another breakthrough. Is this just a spirit projection?”
Everyone looked at the white-haired youth, who shook his head. “Not so easy to shed the body. Still a ways off.”
Just then, Zhang Cheng returned with news. “I’ve found something, but not sure it’s what Old Lu wants. The Tianle Ancient Sect has an elder whose life is nearly over—he’s preparing a blood sacrifice. They don’t dare act openly here, so they might target the mortal world.”
The woman, Lin Lan, glared. “Whoever it is, such people deserve death!”
The burly man, Chen Shou, nodded. “Agreed. Blood sacrifice is insanity. Whether it’s Old Lu’s target or not, they must die!”
Zhang Cheng smiled wryly. Anyone with a conscience would agree, but those demon lords were no pushovers. The righteous were many, but few dared storm a demon sect’s gates. Only this fearless crew would dare.
He, for one, was not about to get involved.
Upon learning the target, the monk Huiming and his companions wasted no time. After getting the location, they soared toward Tianle Ancient Sect.
The cultivation world was vast. Even with their strength, it was a long journey.
Upon arrival, they found a formidable barrier around the sect. Through the years, many righteous cultivators had attacked, but casualties were always heavy. The demon sects had grown low-key, preferring to prey on the mortal world, so the two sides had reached an uneasy truce.
Now, the group marched straight up to the gates. The monk shouted, “Get your dying old man out here to face his doom!”
It was like poking a hornet’s nest. Demon cultivators poured out, unleashing spells and weapons.
Lin Lan swung her halberd, her killing aura devastating. Chen Shou’s fists thundered, his blood energy roaring—like a human war machine. The monk radiated Buddhist light, chanting sutras to launch wave after wave of spiritual attacks. The white-haired Wang Yu, the boyish Lei Lie, and the elder Xun Xian all fought like madmen, turning the gates into a river of blood.
The defenders were stunned. Where had these maniacs come from? They hadn’t offended any great power lately—why were they being attacked?
In moments, dozens of defenders were slain, many without a corpse left behind.
The sect was in chaos—it was as if the attackers were the true demons.
Then a great power emerged, his aura surging.
Furious, the elder roared, “Who dares cause trouble at Tianle Ancient Sect?”
The monk and his companions didn’t bother to reply. They hadn’t felt such passion in years—not since fighting alongside Lu Shengfu decades ago.
Some upstart demon sect dared provoke Old Lu? The Three Pines Ancient Sect’s supreme powers were untouchable; but a minor demon sect like this? Not even worth considering.
They went berserk, and the Tianle power was gravely wounded, forced to retreat and call for reinforcements.
...
Tian Songzi was over 9,700 years old, his cultivation close to the peak of the Divided Spirit stage. Years ago, a great battle had left him weakened and with much of his remaining lifespan spent. In recent years, feeling his end near, he was unwilling to die quietly and planned a final gamble.
Through a blood sacrifice, he hoped to rejuvenate and live a second life.
But he did not choose the cultivation world—his target was the mortal realm.
The mortal world was, to them, a farm to exploit as they pleased.
In the cultivation world, such acts would quickly bring a horde of righteous cultivators to besiege them.
The mortal world was easier—little effort, great reward.
Their agent in the mortal world was the Li family of China, descendants with longstanding ties to Tianle Ancient Sect.
They’d maintained a fruitful partnership for years.
This time, Tian Songzi demanded a thousand demon cultivators nearing the threshold, promising to open an “immortal gate” for the Li family in return—a passage for the entire clan into the cultivation world.
Crossing over from the mortal world was no easy feat. Only those of great power could find the frequency to enter; most never got close. To mortals, the cultivation world was a heaven.
Once inside, it was as if they’d become immortals.
It was said in ancient times, when some ascended, they took their families and even livestock with them—hence the saying, “when one attains the Way, even chickens and dogs ascend.”
It was a tempting offer, one the Li family could hardly resist.
By now, more than half the Li family’s direct line had been brought over, both as a taste of the promised reward and as hostages to ensure compliance.
The plan was half complete. In recent years, the Li family had quietly cultivated over three hundred “qualified” demon cultivators, who entered with the family.
Had Tian Songzi not been in a hurry, the plan could have continued quietly. But his condition worsened suddenly—time was short.
He urged the Li family to speed up, by any means, and sent agents to the mortal world to supervise—even dispatching a split soul of his senior disciple, along with two young disciples and a cat demon.
High-level cultivators entering the mortal world had their strength severely suppressed by its laws; those too strong would be struck by divine retribution.
Thus, the disciple’s avatar was suppressed to the peak of the Core Formation stage, accompanied by two disciples and a cat demon.
Their goal: urge and supervise the Li family.
But the Hangzhou Bureau of Anomalous Affairs disrupted their plans, killing several nearly qualified demon cultivators.
Enraged, the demon world’s agents struck back, the two young disciples and the cat demon attacking the Hangzhou Bureau. When two were let go, Tian Songzi’s senior disciple himself intervened to kill them, intending to set an example.
But they ran into the formidable scholar.
The disciple’s avatar was destroyed, the cat demon slain, and the two young disciples gravely wounded, barely escaping.
Tian Songzi was furious. He demanded the Li family finish the task, or face the consequences.
He also vowed that, once he succeeded in his second life, he would send an avatar to the mortal realm and bathe Hangzhou in blood.
Feeling the pressure, the Li family mobilized, sending demon cultivators through in a steady stream.
Tian Songzi was satisfied. With one more batch of vessels, he could begin.
Little did the Li family’s demon cultivators know they were to be sacrifices for Tian Songzi’s ritual.
At this moment, he was meditating in his cave when word came that a group was slaughtering their way through the gates—calling him out by name.
Tian Songzi frowned. Why would someone from the cultivation world care about sacrifices in the mortal realm? Why attack?
He didn’t want to act; his life was nearly spent. But with the string of defeats, even some late Nascent Soul experts were wounded.
The sect’s leaders urged him to act.
He was displeased—were even the juniors treating him lightly now? But if he continued hiding and his faction was wiped out, it would chill his followers’ hearts.
Left with no choice, Tian Songzi roared and vanished from his cave.
He appeared at the gates, saw the carnage, and shouted, “You dare slay my disciples? I’ll have your lives!”
He ignited a black demonic flame and hurled it at the monk and his companions.
Seeing Tian Songzi, they knew the main foe was finally out. They launched a fierce attack.
These were warriors of the Ninth Pass, veterans of countless battles. Though Tian Songzi’s cultivation was deep, they were undaunted and quickly wounded him gravely.
Tian Songzi was beside himself with rage. Already near death, now gravely wounded, his grand ritual would have to be postponed.
Only now did more of the sect’s great powers emerge. They hadn’t wanted to get involved, but if Tian Songzi were slain at the gate, their sect would be ruined.
The monk’s group exchanged silent messages—
“These guys are strong.”
“The reinforcements are no weaklings.”
“Maybe we’re done here?”
“Withdraw!”
Without hesitation, they activated their formation disks and vanished.
This was the instinct of warriors who had fought on the Ninth Pass for years.
Their goal achieved—they were never here to destroy the sect outright. That would be impossible for so few.
As long as the blood sacrifice was delayed, their mission was complete.
For all the scholar had asked was to keep the demon sect occupied, so it couldn’t intervene elsewhere.
Once the cultivation world’s support was cut off, the Li family would be much easier to handle.
The demon sect’s great powers were left bewildered as their foes disappeared. Still, they rushed to Tian Songzi to claim credit.
“See? We drove them off!”
Tian Songzi’s face turned black as pitch. He spat blood in fury.
“I’ll be the death of me!”
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