Chu Xingchen’s expression was grave, but before he could say anything, Xie Lingyu was the first to let go of his hand.
Chu Xingchen glanced sideways at Xie Lingyu, only to see her shaking her head slightly at him. Then, she retrieved several items from her spatial ring—many of which Chu Xingchen couldn’t even recognize.
In mere moments, over a dozen protective barriers enveloped the two of them, along with a faint cyan ritual array rotating behind them, radiating an oppressive aura. It was clear this was no ordinary treasure.
“Back in Yuzhou City, I was too stubborn to bring extra protective artifacts,” Xie Lingyu said calmly, her spirit sword already unsheathed at her waist. “But after spending more time with you, looking back, it does seem a bit childish.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on the fight. If things go wrong, retreat. I have plenty of ways to ensure you return safely.”
Xie Lingyu had no intention of being dead weight.
She had always despised being a burden. If this trip proved useless, she wouldn’t have followed Chu Xingchen in the first place—no words from him needed.
Her expression remained composed—she could still back him up when it mattered most.
Hearing this, Chu Xingchen smirked and nodded in understanding.
“Then I’ll leave it to you… the ever-capable Lady Lingyu.”
With that, he gripped his myriad-blade greatsword and charged toward the lone white figure amidst the churning sea of blood, accompanied by surging waves of sanguine energy.
The blood qi roiled like an ocean, converging to crush Luo Yue.
With a single punch, Luo Yue shattered the incoming tide of blood and instantly locked onto Chu Xingchen’s blade—or rather, the undisguised pinnacle divine technique it carried.
From the heavens, a crimson slash descended, as if intent on rending the earth and annihilating all in its path.
Luo Yue raised its head, staring directly at the pure, devastating strike.
Had the outside world changed so drastically?
Since when did demonic cultivators wield such supreme divine techniques?
What kind of monstrous fiend could possibly master something like this?
Moreover, this demonic cultivator’s Nascent Soul-level power was absurdly strong—this strike alone could rival a Soul Formation cultivator’s might.
Had the world outside fallen to darkness and heresy?
Luo Yue’s gaze flicked to Xie Lingyu. This woman’s aura, at least, was unmistakably orthodox—aligned with the righteous sects.
Had even the orthodox factions descended into chaos?
But Luo Yue had no time to dwell further. The blade above was already upon it.
Faced with this reality, Luo Yue abandoned all hesitation. After all, things always tended to spiral toward the worst outcome.
“Ten Thousand Blossoms… Moonrise!”
A full moon emerged behind Luo Yue, an ethereal yet radiant presence, as if rising from the horizon itself.
In the next instant, that luminous moon collided with the frenzied blood qi technique, halting its advance.
Luo Yue took a deep breath, its eyes locking onto Chu Xingchen.
“Ten Thousand Blossoms—Garden of Dreams!”
Pure white light erupted from the earth, rapidly dissolving the blood qi that sought to annihilate everything.
Vibrant flowers bloomed within the radiance, spreading across the battlefield like an endless field—mirroring the floral hills outside the secret realm.
Despite the raging blood qi and malevolent energy, those seemingly gentle flowers systematically eradicated it all.
Moonlight blossomed.
Luo Yue’s previously plain attire transformed into resplendent white battle robes.
It raised its hand, and the moon soared, shattering the apocalyptic divine technique and dissolving the boiling sea of blood.
Then, Luo Yue extended its palm, summoning a pale green spear. Gripping it tightly, it pointed the weapon at Chu Xingchen high above and uttered icy, disdainful words:
“Demonic cultivator! Let’s go again!”
Chu Xingchen hovered midair, his myriad-blade shifting from a demonic cleaver into a slender sword.
“Demonic cultivator? My second disciple would take offense to that.”
The next moment, under Luo Yue’s stunned gaze, Chu Xingchen’s aura underwent a complete transformation.
From a peak demonic cultivator to a pure orthodox righteous practitioner.
Crystalline spiritual energy, an untainted and domineering sword intent—and within that sword intent, traces of the Confucian scholars’ righteous Haoran Qi?
A demonic cultivator wielding orthodox techniques? Fine. Even supreme orthodox techniques? Acceptable.
But Haoran Qi?
Who could possibly believe that?!
Luo Yue’s expression darkened instantly—this person could cast illusions within my own domain?!
When did it happen?
Its divine sense surged outward, spiritual energy erupting as the moonlight behind it intensified.
It deployed every top-tier illusion-breaking method at its disposal, yet the feedback was undeniable—this was no illusion.
Luo Yue’s gaze darted warily around. If this was an illusion, danger could emerge from anywhere, and conventional logic no longer applied.
This demonic cultivator’s illusion arts are terrifyingly refined!
It had once been a genuine Great Ascension cultivator, yet now it had fallen prey to a mere Nascent Soul’s illusion.
It had once been renowned for its own illusion techniques, yet here it was, capsized in a ditch.
Chu Xingchen watched as Luo Yue suddenly acted as if surrounded by unseen threats, its attention scattered as though bracing for a greater calamity.
What’s going on?
For a moment, Chu Xingchen couldn’t tell if Luo Yue was performing some bizarre act or if there truly was an impending danger.
Could Luo Yue be here to suppress something?
Regardless, it didn’t stop him from gathering his strength.
Lin Luoyu’s swordsmanship had progressed remarkably after her training at the Hidden Sword Mountain, and he had expected pleasant surprises. But upon sensing it now, it still paled in comparison to Li Yingling’s—by a significant margin.
So, Yingling’s methods remained superior.
In the next instant, sword intent surged, and countless watery dragons of condensed sword energy coiled around Chu Xingchen.
Luo Yue sensed the shift in Chu Xingchen’s aura, further convinced this was an illusion!
Yet, it had no way to break free.
But…
“Ten Thousand Blossoms—Faded Dream!”
Luo Yue raised its head, the moonlight behind it flaring brilliantly.
If it couldn’t escape the illusion, it would drag its opponent in as well!
Seeing Luo Yue strike first, Chu Xingchen hesitated no longer and slashed downward with his sword.
Yet, the moment his blade descended, the surroundings warped into nothingness.
Chu Xingchen whirled around, only to see Xie Lingyu dissipate like a fleeting bubble.
Now, within the still-forming illusion, the only figure he could perceive was Luo Yue.
Luo Yue met his attack with its spear, a pinpoint of white light gleaming at its tip. With a sweep, the light formed a deadly arc, annihilating the incoming sword dragons in an explosion of destructive energy.
Then, the illusion fully manifested.
An endless sea of flames stretched before them, an inferno with no horizon in sight.
Ash and smoke blotted out the sky, rendering day indistinguishable from night.
Chu Xingchen narrowed his eyes. The White Azure Art allowed him to clearly recognize this as an illusion.
But…
His gaze flickered toward a few figures desperately fleeing through the flames.
Spirits?
Among them, one vaguely familiar silhouette caught his attention.
A figure clad in white, its skin scorched red by the raging fires, its face twisted in terror.
Its eyes were filled with nothing but terror as it desperately scrambled forward, struggling to keep pace with the fleeing spirit ahead.
At a glance... it bore some resemblance to a wintry version of Luo Yue.
Luo Yue’s gaze also fell upon the fleeing figure.
Faced with an illusion she couldn’t perceive, Luo Yue didn’t dare underestimate it.
Memories weren’t merely the past—they could also be nightmares too horrifying to recall, the very root of fear.
And thus, they became the most flawless illusions.
Because... every bit of it was real.