Chapter 201: Mid-Autumn Massacre: Betrayal?
The fifteenth day of the eighth month, the hour of the Monkey (3-5 pm), the sun setting.
Led by Little Demonic Mother, Shi Hao and the others entered a narrow passage, descending deep into the earth.
Eight pillars of light, arranged according to the eight trigrams, their brightness intensifying as they descended, converged towards a central point.
Following the light, they discovered the underground space was divided into eight levels, each marked by a ring of converging light.
Along the way, they encountered numerous corpses.
Purple-clad warriors lay everywhere, their bodies stiff, their faces contorted, some clutching their throats, as if trying to claw something out.
The Crimson Rainbow Poison Miasma, released by the Poison Venerable, could kill with a single breath.
The victims’ eyes were wide open, their expressions frozen in terror, the horrors of their final moments etched on their faces.
As they descended further, the number of corpses increased, not just Shen Ting Sect warriors.
Although powerful, the poison miasma wasn’t as effective as a plague. While it had initially caught the Shen Ting Sect off guard, its effects were limited.
The deeper they went, the more confined the space became, the miasma, unable to disperse effectively, becoming less potent.
“This is bad,” Little Demonic Mother said, “The Poisonous Sunflower Sect’s attack wasn’t strong enough.”
They reached the sixth level.
Electrical sparks danced across the walls, the spiritual energy of the mountain converging towards the eight points of the Bagua formation.
The Thunder Sound Universal Transformation Array.
The rumbling of thunder echoed around them, the earth trembling, their own insignificance amplified by the vastness of the cavern.
On this level, they saw over two hundred Poisonous Sunflower Sect martial artists attacking the Shen Ting Sect’s forces.
However, the Shen Ting Sect still had superior numbers.
This underground cavern had once been a hidden base of the Melting Sun Demon Lord.
After his defeat by Immortal Bi Yingtong of the Taisu Immortal Pavilion, the mountain ghosts had taken over, expanding the network of tunnels and caverns.
Later, the Shen Ting Sect had driven out the mountain ghosts, claiming the caverns for themselves, further expanding and modifying them, creating a vast and intricate network.
But even so, navigating this underground labyrinth was difficult, the interconnected caverns and passages, the uneven terrain, disorienting.
The battle raged, chaotic and unpredictable.
Both sides, however, had planned for this, and neither could afford to fail.
The Shen Ting Sect had endured centuries of humiliation, forced into hiding during the Sheng Dynasty’s reign, when Daoism flourished, persecuted by both the court and the other Daoist sects.
And even after the Sheng Dynasty’s fall, with the Chongxian Sect’s rise to power, they had remained hidden in Wu Gorge, waiting for their chance to return, to reclaim their former glory.
Tonight, their leader would be reborn, empowered by the Thunder Venerable divine crystal, a high-rank expert capable of commanding the world. And they would rise with him.
They would fight to the death.
The Poisonous Sunflower Sect was also ambitious. The Black Phoenix Poison Pearl and the Primordial Yellow Dao Body were essential for their plans. With those two, they could also create a high-rank expert.
But the failure of their plague attack had forced them to change their tactics, launching a direct assault, despite the risks.
Two fourth-rank experts led the Poisonous Sunflower Sect’s forces.
One, a tall, imposing figure in purple robes, his movements powerful and unrestrained, was Li Shanwen, the Purple Robe Evil Venerable.
The other, a tall, thin man in his forties, dressed in crimson robes, his demeanor strangely effeminate, was Qiu Shanqing, the Crimson Rainbow Poison Venerable.
Besides them, there were several other mid-rank experts: Red Scorpion, Black Crowned Crane, Poison Crow, and Lü Shijun, all from the Poisonous Sunflower Sect, and Li Lian, the former “General Shui Lei” of the Shen Ting Sect, who had defected.
Li Lian was a twenty-three-year-old woman, a fifth-rank expert.
Having reached the fifth rank at such a young age, becoming one of the Shen Ting Sect’s Five Thunder Generals, was a remarkable achievement.
But she was a traitor, and the moment she appeared, the Shen Ting Sect disciples, their eyes filled with rage, attacked her, wanting to tear her apart.
Li Lian, her own eyes bloodshot, her jaw clenched, wielding her twin willow leaf sabers, fought her way forward, her path marked by the bodies of her former comrades.
She was a traitor, having joined the enemy, the demonic sects.
But she hadn’t asked for anything in return, no reward, no promises, only the hatred and contempt of her former sect.
Because she was too kind, too compassionate, too… good.
After becoming one of the Five Thunder Generals, she had gradually learned about the sect’s true plans, their ultimate goal.
She had been horrified, unable to believe they would sacrifice the entire Wu Gorge region for their own ambitions.
Of the Five Thunder Generals, she had been the only one to try and stop the senseless slaughter of the mountain ghosts.
Although they looked strange and monstrous, she knew they were kind and gentle, simply wanting to live in peace in their mountain home.
And she had been the only one, while the others celebrated their sect’s imminent rise to power, to feel a growing sense of dread.
Once their leader returned, the mountain ghosts would all die.
The Twelve Peaks of Wu Gorge would collapse, destroying everything within a hundred-mile radius.
And the Long River, one of China’s two great lifelines, would be forever changed, its course altered, floods devastating the land.
Was the Shen Ting Sect’s ambition worth such a price?
This question had haunted her, shaking her faith.
She had tried to reason with the others, but it was useless. For the Shen Ting Sect, after centuries of hiding and waiting, “revival” had become an obsession, a burning flame consuming everything in its path.
She had been forced to make a choice… betrayal.
Now, branded a traitor, tears of blood streaming down her face, she fought her way forward, her blades stained with the blood of her former friends, her former family.
Every strike was like a knife twisting in her own heart.
But she couldn’t stop.
“Traitor!” a voice boomed from above. A figure in a dark gold yin-yang robe and a golden crown descended.
It was Fu Lie, the “Sky King,” one of the Shen Ting Sect’s Four Divine Kings.
Seeing the traitor, his eyes blazed with fury, and he unleashed a wave of energy, like a collapsing mountain, towards her.
In any sect or organization, traitors were worse than enemies.
Seeing her here, daring to face them, his rage intensified, his attack like a thunderbolt, intending to obliterate her.
Li Lian, with a cry, charged towards him, her twin sabers flashing.
She was covered in blood, her energy depleted, having fought her way through countless enemies.
Even under normal circumstances, a fifth-rank martial artist, facing a full-powered attack from a fourth-rank expert, would retreat.
And she was injured, both physically and emotionally.
But she didn’t dodge or hesitate, rushing forward… She wanted to die.
Whether she won or lost, she didn’t want to live.
If she lost, Wu Gorge would be destroyed, countless lives lost, her betrayal meaningless, her former sect, her friends, her family… all gone.
She couldn’t live with that.
And if she won, her former comrades, those she had grown up with, trained with, would be dead by her hand, her betrayal destroying her sect, her home.
She couldn’t live with that either.
Either way, she was doomed.
Then she might as well die here, on this path of betrayal, a path she was ashamed of, yet also wouldn’t regret.
The Sky King’s attack, its power overwhelming, shattered her sabers, the force like a collapsing mountain, crushing her.
She closed her eyes, a sad smile on her face, as death approached.
Suddenly, a gust of wind, a surge of flames, and she saw a fan spinning before her, blocking the attack.
It was a round, silk fan, embroidered with a beautiful woman in flowing robes.
And the woman in the embroidery also held a fan.
It was an exquisite fan.
Flames and lightning exploded, the force of the impact shaking the cavern.
The lightning, like a thunderbolt from heaven, its power immense.
And the swirling flames, drawing everything inwards, seemed to compress the very space around them.
“Who?!” the Sky King roared, his fury intensified by this interruption.
A slender hand, holding the fan, its movements graceful and elegant, appeared before Li Lian, the woman’s voice soft amidst the swirling energy, “Just a passerby.”
Li Shanwen, the Purple Robe Evil Venerable, his iron palms flashing, sent bodies flying.
Although a demonic cultivator, his demonic energy powerful, he also practiced external martial arts.
He had trained in the Iron Sand Palm since childhood, a relatively simple technique that required mostly perseverance and dedication, not innate talent.
Although considered a basic technique, mastering it required years of practice.
Demonic cultivators, their power derived from demonic essence, rarely bothered with such mundane external techniques.
But he was different.
A blade flashed before him, and he struck out with his palm, the blade shattering like glass against his iron hand.
His palm struck the attacker’s chest, crushing his ribs, sending him flying.
“Li Shanwen!” a voice roared, and another imposing figure, matching his own in size and power, charged towards him. It was Li Zhen, the Thunder King.
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