She cast a sidelong glance at her "dear" senior sister.
Chi Yuan was sheathing her sword, but Shen Qingci knew her senior sister was pondering the exact same thing.
“Get up first,” Chi Yuan said. “The wounds contain corrosive poison from the demon beast's saliva. If left untreated, it will rot to the bone.” She took three Blood-Stopping Pills from her storage ring and handed them over.
The female cultivator took them, and the three of them swallowed the pills, overflowing with gratitude.
The pills Chi Yuan gave them were indeed Blood-Stopping Pills, but they were laced with Tracking Incense. Within twelve hours of consumption, their spiritual energy fluctuations would continuously emit a unique scent that only the person who gave them the pills could detect.
This was a pill formula modified by the sect's Law Enforcement Hall, originally used for tracking demon beasts, and was now being used on cultivators for the first time.
Having swallowed the pill, the female cultivator struggled to her feet and limped ahead of them. Every few steps, she turned back to warn them, “Be careful, fellow Daoists. The blood-thorn vines around here are poisonous, and the miasma is heavy. Make sure to keep close to me, and do not wander off the path.”
“The stronghold is hidden deep within the miasma. Without someone to guide you, it is impossible to find.”
Shen Qingci followed behind, her mind spinning rapidly.
The performance of these three was flawless.
The wounds were real, the encounter with the demon beasts was real, the spirit stones they produced were genuine, and the fear on their faces could not be faked. Even the frantic urgency of their guidance made them look exactly like survivors who had just crawled back from the gates of hell.
If this was acting, it was acting paid for with their very lives.
But from the very beginning, she had no intention of being a moral exemplar.
Being a good person was pure self-inflicted suffering; to save others and take responsibility meant acting with a conscience. She had no desire to be a good person in the cultivation world, nor did she care to be an evil one. Her mind was entirely filled with the single thought of becoming her senior sister's Dao companion.
Since she didn't plan on being a good person, she didn't need any proof—her intuition was more than enough.
“Senior Sister,” she transmitted her voice, her tone nonchalant. “I don't believe them.”
Chi Yuan: “Likewise.”
After walking forward for an hour, the miasma grew increasingly thick, suppressing their divine sense until they could only scan a few zhang ahead.
The female cultivator stopped in front of a stone forest, pointing to a faint, flickering blood-red light ahead. “It's right there! Behind the stone forest is the evil cultivators' stronghold. They've set up a Blood Sacrifice Array, which will activate tonight at midnight. If we don't go now, it will be too late.”
Shen Qingci stood behind Chi Yuan, keeping a close eye on their surroundings.
There were several fresh drag marks along the edge of the stone forest, indeed leading toward the stronghold. A few torn scraps of cloth clung to the tracks, the material identical to what the three rogue cultivators in front were wearing.
The entire performance was executed flawlessly, with even the drag marks on the ground accounted for.
She suddenly felt a trace of admiration for that Nascent Soul evil cultivator.
Surviving in this territory for nearly a thousand years was certainly due to more than just his cultivation level.
Evading several purges by the great sects relied precisely on this meticulous caution and a mind full of schemes.
It wasn't that he couldn't fight; he was just too lazy to lift a finger.
It wasn't that he couldn't deceive people; it was that after the deception, he could make you willingly walk right into his trap.
Unfortunately, he had run into two ruthless people who hadn't trusted a single soul since the day they were born.
“Thank you three for your hard work,” Shen Qingci said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leading us straight to the evil cultivators' stronghold has saved me quite a bit of trouble.”
The female cultivator clearly failed to catch the thorn in her words. Wiping the blood from her face, she squeezed out a weak smile. “Heh, what are you saying, fellow Daoist? As long as we can rescue my companions, this trip is nothing.”
Chi Yuan rested her hand back on her sword hilt and glanced at Shen Qingci, who gave her a slight nod in return.
Not a single word was spoken, but the two reached a consensus in that very instant.
They would enter, but not to rescue anyone. They were going to see just how grand of a trap this Blood-Robed Patriarch had set up.
After all, an immersive roleplaying game was quite fun.
And it was with her senior sister, too~ ₍⁻ʚ.⁻₎.
Shen Qingci followed behind the female cultivator toward the center of the stone forest, the stone fragments beneath their feet crunching loudly.
The guiding postures of the three "rogue cultivators" ahead had grown increasingly stiff, their spiritual energy seemingly on the verge of giving out.
Chi Yuan walked on her left, her right hand remaining on her sword hilt. Frostchill buzzed faintly in its sheath, its sword intent contained but unreleased.
Though their divine sense could not reach far, the feedback they received was highly subtle.
The bloody aura ahead was chaotic and disorganized, mixed with a dense fiendish energy. They were likely Golden Core cultivators forcefully bloated by some secret art.
Passing through the final narrow opening of the stone forest, the view suddenly opened up. It was a natural hollow valley, surrounded on three sides by cliffs densely covered with blood-thorn vines. In the exact center stood a crude stone platform.
A simplified version of a Blood Sacrifice Array was carved onto the stone platform. Seven or eight Golden Core evil cultivators were scattered around, looking exactly like NPCs waiting to trigger a battle in a video game.
Some were polishing their magic treasures, some were meditating to regulate their breathing, and another was crouching by the edge of the stone platform, using a talisman brush to reinforce the array runes.
Behind the platform lay a pile of unconscious rogue cultivators, bound tightly with vines, their chests still rising and falling.
They were indeed living people.
The female cultivator stopped in her tracks and pointed toward the front of the stone platform. “It's here! Fellow Daoists, before they—”
Her words cut off abruptly.
Shen Qingci took two steps forward, then deliberately backed up to stand right in front of the female cultivator.
The female cultivator's pupils shrank. Her right hand instinctively reached toward her waist, where a poison-coated stiletto was strapped flush against her skin, specifically designed to pierce protective spiritual energy.
But remembering the Patriarch's orders, she relaxed her grip.
A coarse shout rang out: “Who goes there?”
The evil cultivator crouching on the ground reinforcing the array runes was the first to look up. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the talisman brush, which trailed a streak of bloody light in midair as it flew straight for the back of Shen Qingci's neck.
The other Golden Core evil cultivators leaped up to encircle them, planning to play out the script arranged by the Patriarch before finding an opportunity to make their escape.
Chi Yuan teleported in front of her junior sister and drew her sword.
Seven Styles of Awakening, First Style: Frost's Rise.
The talisman brush collided with the first sword arc. The crimson spiritual energy on the brush was forcefully frozen and cracked by the ice-blue sword intent; from the tip to the handle, cracks spread faster than the brush could fly backward.
The blood-fiend spell that followed closely behind crashed into the second sword arc. Its structure was shattered from its core by the sword intent, exploding in midair into a cloud of dispersing shockwaves.
Not a single speck reached within three paces of Chi Yuan.
The third sword arc did not intercept any attacks. Instead, it bypassed the talisman brush and the spells entirely, moving at a speed far exceeding the reaction limits of a Golden Core cultivator.
It slashed directly into the evil cultivator right in the center of the encircling formation.
The evil cultivator's protective spiritual energy was torn apart by the sword arc, sending him flying backward. A wound ran diagonally across his chest from his shoulder to his abdomen, its cut perfectly clean.
Before he even hit the ground, blood had already splattered all over the two people beside him.
The remaining six evil cultivators' encircling formation was instantly torn open by this single strike.
Chi Yuan did not give them any time to put on airs.
Seven Styles of Awakening, Second Style: Ice Split.
With a flick of her wrist, she slashed Frostchill diagonally upward from below. Wherever the tip of the sword passed, the ground was plowed into a deep trench by the sword intent.
The cold air within the trench condensed into ice blades, exploding forward in a fan shape.
“Boom!!!”
Among them, two late-stage Golden Core evil cultivators reacted the fastest, simultaneously summoning their defensive magic treasures.
One was a bone shield, and the other was a bronze bell. Both were Mystic-grade High-rank, which were considered decent among defensive magic treasures at the Golden Core stage.
The moment the ice blades collided with the bone shield, spiderweb-like cracks erupted across its surface. The cultivator holding the shield was forced back repeatedly by the impact.
The soles of his boots ground two white marks onto the stone floor.
The bronze bell fared even worse, pierced directly by the ice blades. The cultivator holding the bell now had three gaping holes in his chest, his eyes wide with shock as he collapsed backward...
[Patriarch, our defensive magic treasures can't block this god of death!]
Rate on N.U.
