The night was as dark as ink, gently wrapping this war-torn city, leaving only a few scattered lights swaying in the cool night breeze, like the unextinguished hope in this isolated city.
Inside, a dim oil lamp cast the shadows of three long-separated figures on the mottled wall.
Jiang Che suddenly woke from a nightmare, his chest heaving violently as cold sweat soaked his forehead. Before his eyes were not the fierce faces of Sacred Dynasty cultivators, but two incredibly familiar faces etched into his very bones.
"First Senior Brother... Second Senior Brother..." His voice was dry and hoarse, trembling with disbelief.
Xiao Chen and Han Yu, who had been guarding the bedside, immediately leaned forward. A rare relieved smile appeared on Xiao Chen's steady face as he gently pressed Jiang Che's shoulder: "You're awake. How do you feel?"
Though Han Yu said nothing, his usually cold eyes clearly reflected concern.
Looking at his two Senior Brothers who had cultivated, played, and been taught by their Master together since their youth, Jiang Che's eyes suddenly grew hot.
These fifteen years of wandering had made him feel as if he were back in the Ghost Domain, and at this moment, that feeling seemed to have found an outlet. He struggled to sit up, and Xiao Chen carefully supported him.
"I thought I'd never see you again..." Jiang Che's voice choked up, a thousand words stuck in his throat, finally becoming just one sentence: "It's so good to see you."
Han Yu handed him a bowl of warm water, concise to the point: "Drink water first."
The simple action and familiar familiarity instantly pulled the timeline back to those carefree days in Xianling Holy Land.
The three looked at each other, the joy of reunion after surviving a disaster flowing silently between them, washing away the recent gloom and fatigue.
Hong Longxiang at the door watched everything before him, a feeling of envy he couldn't even name rising in his heart, before he coldly snorted and turned to leave.
Meanwhile, Xiao Chen carefully examined Jiang Che's injuries, his brow slightly furrowed: "Shicai dealt with it in time, but a full-power strike from a Return to Origin Realm cultivator... your Dao foundation is slightly shaken and needs time to recover. With your usual caution, why would you provoke an enemy you couldn't defeat?"
Jiang Che drank the water, feeling his throat ease, but his expression grew solemn as he recalled the events. After the joy, the crisis that had almost killed him and the information he had obtained with his life instantly occupied his mind.
"I was investigating a piece of information," he took a deep breath, his eyes becoming sharp and urgent, "Senior Brothers, among us... there's a traitor!"
"What?" Xiao Chen's gentle gaze suddenly hardened.
Han Yu's aura instantly turned icy, the temperature in the room plummeting.
"I couldn't fully confirm who it is," Jiang Che's words quickened, coughing twice from the agitation but not caring, "I was lurking near a Sacred Dynasty stronghold when I overheard two high-ranking cultivators talking. They mentioned that among the ten of us, one has secretly defected to Sacred Emperor Qin Ao, and... and helped the Sacred Dynasty capture one of our companions as a 'gift' for their surrender!"
"Who was captured?" Xiao Chen's voice grew deeper, his hands on his knees tightening slightly.
"They didn't give a name, referring to them only as 'that esteemed one,' with extremely respectful language, as if the captured disciple had a special status..." Jiang Che tried to recall every detail, "It was upon hearing this earth-shattering news that my concentration wavered, accidentally revealing a trace of aura, which was detected by that Return to Origin cultivator who then pursued me... I barely escaped to the outskirts of Wangzhou City..."
The room fell into a deathly silence. The oil lamp's wick sputtered, a small flower blooming in the darkness, making the suffocating atmosphere even more oppressive.
A traitor!
These two words were like the most vicious curse, stirring up monstrous waves in their hearts.
The ten of them were all carefully selected by their Master Chen Chang'an and their sect, carrying the hopes of billions of living beings from the lower realm as they crossed over to this world. They were comrades, siblings, the people they should trust most in this desperate situation!
Who could it be? To betray their sect, their Master, and all who had pinned their hopes on them? Even turning a blade against their own fellow disciples!
Han Yu suddenly stood up, his dark robes stirring without wind, the chill emanating from him nearly freezing the air.
In the depths of his eyes surged an unbelievable anger and a deeply pained emotion. Xianling Holy Land was not just his sect to him, but the home that had given him a new life and a sense of belonging.
Master Chen Chang'an, Junior Sister Shicai, every fellow disciple... this feeling was the untouchable scale beneath his cold exterior.
"Who?" he only uttered one word, his voice so cold it could freeze ice.
"Cannot be determined." Jiang Che shook his head in pain. "The information is too vague."
Xiao Chen was silent for a moment, a layer of cloud covering his handsome face. As the Senior Brother, he was considering more.
"This matter concerns life and death, we must investigate it thoroughly. But we cannot startle the snake. Since they could capture one of us, their strength or methods must be extraordinary."
"They are surely highly valued by the Sacred Dynasty, with extremely tight security."
He looked at Han Yu: "Han Shi Di, besides your Heaven-Supporting Sword, you are most skilled in stealth arts. It would be most appropriate for you to personally investigate."
"The primary goal is to identify which fellow disciple is being held and where they are. If we can identify the traitor, that would be better."
"But remember, safety first. Once exposed, we could lose everything."
Han Yu didn't hesitate for a moment, nodding: "Good."
He didn't say another word, but both Xiao Chen and Jiang Che understood that this task was most suited for Han Yu.
As the night deepened, Han Yu turned into a wisp of smoke that blended into the shadows, silently leaving the stronghold and sneaking toward the direction of Wangzhou City's former prefect's mansion—now the command center for the Sacred Dynasty in this area.
The Sacred Dynasty's outer defenses were tight while inner security was lax. With war imminent, their main forces had been deployed to the front lines. Though patrols continued constantly, they posed little difficulty for a Long Life Realm master like Han Yu.
He dodged patrol squads like a phantom, his divine sense probing his surroundings with meticulous precision.
He overheard soldiers discussing frontline battles and praising the Sacred Emperor and Holy Son. He searched several dungeons and secret rooms where important prisoners might be held, but found nothing.
Until he approached a secluded temple near the command center.
The guards here were significantly more numerous, with formations even blocking divine sense detection. The tighter the security, the more suspicious it seemed.
"...That person inside is really stubborn, isn't he? It's been so many days..."
"Shh... Watch your words! War Holy Son ordered that no information about that person can be leaked..."
"What's there to fear? There are no outsiders here... But the War Holy Son doesn't seem to value that person much."
"He surrendered yet is still imprisoned..."
"Don't you get it? Who knows if his surrender is genuine or a trick?"
That person? Who could it be?
Han Yu's heart sank.
Rage and chill intertwined in his chest.
He forcibly suppressed his emotions and slipped through the formation barrier during a guard shift, using secret arts to enter the temple silently.
The interior was deeper and more silent than he had imagined.
At the end of the corridor stood a heavily restricted prison cell.
Through the shimmering bars, Han Yu saw a familiar figure.
The person sat with his back to the entrance on a simple stone bed, his figure somewhat thin—none other than Ye Fan!
Though he had suspected as much, seeing it confirmed still sent a bone-chilling cold and piercing pain of betrayal through Han Yu.
It was really him! The third-generation disciple of the Immortal Spirit Holy Land, a disciple of Xing Cai... he had actually defected to the Sacred Dynasty!
Han Yu's eyes turned icy, his killing intent nearly uncontrollable. But he remembered his primary mission—confirming the whereabouts of his fellow disciples.
He carefully examined inside and outside the cell but found no trace of a second person.
Perhaps imprisoned elsewhere? Han Yu's mind raced as he decided to subdue Ye Fan first and extract information about his fellow disciples and the details of his betrayal.
His figure appeared like a black lightning flash before the prison door. A flash of dark light in his hand, he began to break the restrictions.
Just then, Ye Fan, with his back to him, suddenly let out a low, clear laugh.
"Hehe... hahaha..."
The laughter echoed in the silent prison, filled with triumph at a successful scheme and a hint of indescribable madness.
Han Yu froze.
Ye Fan slowly turned around, wearing an expression Han Yu had never seen before—a mixture of mockery and coldness. His gaze pierced through the shadows, landing precisely on Han Yu's concealed form.
"Lurking for so long, you must be tired," Ye Fan said, his voice carrying a smile yet as cold as ice. "Now that the prey has appeared, what are you waiting for, everyone?"
"BOOM!"
The walls around the prison suddenly lit with complex formation patterns. A powerful binding force instantly enveloped Han Yu, completely locking down the space around him! At the same time, an immense, terrifying pressure filled with slaughter and battle intent surged forward like a tidal wave from the other end of the corridor!
From the end of the corridor, a figure slowly stepped out.
He wore the Sacred Dynasty's Holy Son attire, stood tall with a stern face, and his eyes were like unsheathed divine weapons, incomparably sharp. The killing intent around him was almost tangible, making the entire space feel incredibly heavy.
The Seventh Holy Son, Zhan Wuji!
He walked forward step by step, each one like a drumbeat against Han Yu's heart.
Zhan Wuji's gaze fell on Han Yu, whose figure was revealed by the formation and trapped in place. A faint, indifferent smile touched his lips: "As expected. Ye Fan, your offering carries considerable weight."
Han Yu stood at the center of the binding formation, cold energy radiating from him as if it could freeze the ground beneath his feet.
He didn't even glance at Zhan Wuji, his ice-cold eyes locked instead on Ye Fan in the cell, who wore an "I knew it" expression.
Boundless rage, bone-chilling cold, and the immense pain of being stabbed in the back by someone he trusted raged through his chest, ultimately transforming into the most intense and purest killing intent.
He slowly raised his hand. A thin, cicada-wing-like short blade of deep blue slid from his sleeve, its tip pointing directly at Ye Fan. His voice seemed to come from the depths of hell, each word like ice:
"Ye... Fan! What has our sect ever done to you?!"
Han Yu's voice was frigid. His feelings for the Immortal Spirit Holy Land and Chen Chang'an ran deep; he could never accept anyone betraying their sect.
Zhan Wuji chuckled lightly, a long spear wreathed in bloody evil energy already in his hand.
The spear tip rose slightly, locking onto Han Yu: "No need to waste words with a dying man. Han Yu, I've heard of you. Your name is high on my hunting list."
One trapped in a formation, his heart burning with rage; one poised and ready, his killing intent surging; the other sat securely in his cell, a cold smile on his face.
The three faced off, tension mounting, the air stretched taut as a bowstring!
...