Brother against brother! A disciple slaying his master! And in such a decisive, public manner!
"Junior Sister Lingxiu——!!!"
Xiao Chen let out a heart-wrenching roar, his eyes instantly flooding with bloodshot veins. The thunderous energy in his body went berserk from extreme rage, ionizing the surrounding air into crackling arcs of lightning.
He nearly charged down the city wall without a second thought, even if it meant facing thousands of enemy soldiers. He would tear Ye Fan to pieces!
Han Yu violently spat a mouthful of fresh blood, his injuries worsening from the emotional turmoil. Yet he stared fixedly at Ye Fan's kneeling figure in the distance, his icy eyes burning with hatred that could consume all, squeezing out two words through gritted teeth: "Ye! Fan!" This hatred temporarily overshadowed his grief over Ji Lingxiu's plight.
Chen Xingcai staggered and leaned against the battlement, barely managing to stay on her feet.
She looked at the disciple who had become utterly unfamiliar in the distance, at Ji Lingxiu's slowly falling figure, and silent tears streamed down her face—not out of weakness, but from the immense pain of shattered beliefs and a bone-chilling cold.
The betrayal she least wished to believe had been confirmed in the cruelest way imaginable.
Yet, the Holy Dynasty gave them no time for grief or vengeance.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Even more passionate and frenzied war drums than before roared like death knells from the Holy Dynasty's army formation! Accompanied by Zhan Wuji's cruel and delighted laughter:
"The Holy Emperor has commanded! Trample Wangzhou! Leave no living thing!"
"Kill—!"
Having completed the "kill the chicken to warn the monkeys" ritual, the Holy Dynasty army charged forward like unleashed beasts, carrying mountainous battle cries toward Wangzhou City, where morale had completely collapsed and defenses were merely nominal. This assault was more than several times fiercer than before.
"The city cannot be held! Commander Xiao! We must retreat!" A blood-soaked elder of the Anti-Holy Alliance shouted hoarsely, his face filled with despair.
Xiao Chen whipped his head around, seeing the Holy Dynasty's elite surging over the battlements like a tide, seeing his companions falling one after another.
His eyes were bloodshot, his heart torn to shreds.
Wangzhou City, the gateway to Zhongzhou, was not just a strategic point but a crucial node in the Zhongzhou defensive formation! With its fall, the heartland of Zhongzhou would have no natural defenses left; its capture was merely a matter of time!
But he could not die here!
Chen Xingcai's spirit was wounded, and within the city were Jiang Che, whose cultivation had not yet recovered, and Hong Longxiang, who was nearly combat ineffective! They were the last hope of their sect, the final spark of the lower realms!
"Retreat!!!" Xiao Chen nearly roared the word, his voice hoarse with unwillingness and pain. He pulled up Han Yu, who was nearly consumed by hatred, and shouted to Chen Xingcai: "Xingcai! Take Jiang Che and Longxiang!
Escape through the secret west gate! Now!"
Chen Xingcai snapped back to her senses, forcefully suppressing the storm in her heart. She knew this was not the time for grief. She nodded heavily and transformed into a streak of light, shooting toward their base.
Xiao Chen held his sword to cover their retreat, pushing the Nine Heavens Thunder Sword Art to its limits. The berserk thunder swept over the charging enemies like angry dragons, buying precious time for their withdrawal.
Each flash of lightning claimed the lives of numerous Holy Dynasty soldiers, yet a growing sense of helplessness weighed heavier in his heart. Individual bravery paled before the overwhelming tide of defeat.
Half an hour later, the Wangzhou city walls were completely draped in the Holy Dynasty's Black Dragon Banner. The soaring flames and thick smoke proclaimed the fall of this gateway city to Zhongzhou.
...
The fall of Wangzhou City was like knocking over the first domino.
With the loss of this crucial node in the Zhongzhou defensive line, the Anti-Holy Alliance, which had been barely holding under the Holy Dynasty's overwhelming military might, completely lost its strategic depth and defensive anchors.
In the following three months, the remaining righteous forces experienced a long and desperate rout and flight.
Riding the momentum of their great victory, the Holy Dynasty's army advanced in multiple coordinated thrusts, sweeping all before them.
One glorious immortal city after another fell, one resisting sect after another was uprooted.
Across Zhongzhou, smoke rose from countless fires, and rivers ran with blood.
Wherever the Holy Dynasty's iron cavalry passed, those who submitted prospered, those who resisted perished. They enforced their so-called "unification" through absolute force.
The righteous forces, lacking unified command and effective resistance, were either annihilated, forced to surrender, or scattered into small groups that fled into mountains and wilderness to survive with great difficulty.
Three months later, in the imperial capital of the Holy Dynasty—a magnificent palace converted from the largest ancient city of Zhongzhou—a grand "founding ceremony" was held.
Holy Emperor Qin Ao, clad in a black dragon robe, sat high upon the Nine Dragons Throne, receiving the homage of his ministers.
Below him, the ten great Holy Sons, led by Zhan Wuji, stood solemnly on either side, their presence awe-inspiring.
Ye Fan, who had surrendered, stood at a relatively prominent position, his expression calm, revealing no joy or anger.
Qin Ao issued an edict proclaiming that after ten thousand years of strife, the Spirit Realm was finally unified under the Holy Dynasty as the rightful ruler of all.
At the same time, he issued the highest-level "Wanted Order" for Xiao Chen, Han Yu, Chen Xingcai, Jiang Che, Hong Longxiang, and the missing Lu Xiaoluo, Li Hanzhou, and Ji Hongli, totaling eight people.
The edict declared these eight to be the source of chaos, defying heaven itself. Anyone who provided their exact whereabouts would be rewarded with ten prime Spirit Veins and enfeoffed as a marquis; anyone who brought back their heads would receive an Immortal Artifact and free access to the Holy Dynasty's secret treasury, enfeoffed as a king of a different surname! Their original sects, families, and even acquaintances, if they failed to report any knowledge of their whereabouts, would be guilty by association, with their clans exterminated!
With this decree, the entire realm was shaken.
The enormous bounty was enough to drive any cultivator mad, making the future situation for Xiao Chen and the others incredibly perilous, leaving them nearly as enemies of the world.
Yet, just as the Holy Dynasty proclaimed their unity and the wanted orders spread throughout the realm, in the vast, mysterious, and treacherous depths of the Southern Cloud Dream Marsh, a broken but still intact core team had quietly established their roots.
Cloud Dream Marsh was filled with miasma, towering ancient trees, lurking beasts, and countless naturally formed illusionary arrays and death traps. Since ancient times, it had been a forbidden zone for cultivators and an excellent hiding place.
Especially now, after the floodwaters had receded, the terrain had changed dramatically.
Xiao Chen stood outside a temporary cave, gazing at the gray miasma and boundless dark jungle before him. His face was etched with fatigue, but his eyes remained as steady as a rock.
Behind him were Han Yu, whose injuries had not fully healed and whose vitality was somewhat diminished but whose eyes were as sharp as knives; Chen Xingcai, forcefully suppressing her grief and striving to calmly handle affairs; Jiang Che, sitting cross-legged, seizing every moment to heal in hopes of recovering his combat strength as soon as possible; and Hong Longxiang, clenching his fists, crazily pushing his own potential under extreme pressure, his cultivation showing signs of an imminent breakthrough.
Additionally, there were several hundred elite righteous cultivators who had followed them through bloody battles and narrowly escaped to this location.
Each of them was injured, their clothes tattered, but in their eyes burned flames of hatred and undying hope.
"Senior brother, the count is complete. Those who followed us into Cloud Dream Marsh, including the lightly wounded, number three hundred and seventy-one. Our Pills and Spirit Stones have been greatly depleted and can only last for three months," Chen Xingcai said as she walked to Xiao Chen's side, reporting in a low, hoarse voice.
Xiao Chen nodded silently, his gaze still fixed on the distance, as if he could pierce through the layers of mist to see the Zhongzhou lands that had already changed hands. "Three months... that's enough.
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