Chapter 47: The Longsword Drawn

An hour ago, inside the secluded cavern serving as the alliance's stronghold, candle flames flickered gently in the caress of a light breeze.

The dim, amber light danced in mottled patterns across the cave walls, resembling a cluster of startled sprites shivering amid the intensifying tension within the cavern, leaping restlessly as if silently forewarning of an impending peril.

With a solemn expression, Yuchi Yuanhang led a group of disciples, their faces as grave as if they were about to face a mortal enemy, focusing intently on reinforcing the stronghold's protective barrier.

Every movement they made was cautious and meticulous, their eyes gleaming with unwavering focus, as though they were guarding not merely a formation, but the final barrier concerning the safety of countless living souls.

"Master," Wen Xiaochuan furrowed his brow and scratched his head, his eyes filled with perplexity until he finally could not help asking, "Look at this array; it already seems unbreakable. We poured immense effort into crafting it meticulously beforehand, and then refined it repeatedly through various details. Logically speaking, it should be as solid as a fortress and foolproof by now. Why do we still need to reinforce it?"

As he spoke, he bent down slightly, reaching out his hand to gently touch the faintly glowing edge of the array.

In an instant, the spiritual energy flowing through the formation seemed to perceive his touch, spreading along his fingertips and bringing a slight tingling sensation—much like a tiny electric current passing through, causing him to shiver slightly.

Yuchi Yuanhang acted as if he had heard nothing, showing not the slightest intention of letting down his guard.

His profound eyes stared intently at every node of the formation, his hands continuously checking their state, and without raising his head, he replied:

"Xiaochuan, you must not think this way; never harbor any wishful thinking. While this formation can indeed withstand a solitary attack from a Core Formation stage cultivator under normal circumstances, once it encounters a joint, full-scale assault by a large group, the outcome becomes utterly unpredictable.

We must strive to make it flawless and foolproof. Even the slightest, most negligible hidden flaw could brew a catastrophic disaster at a crucial moment."

Mid-sentence, his expression suddenly tightened like an alert leopard detecting a hidden, dangerous aura in the shadows. His thick eyebrows instantly knitted together tightly, forming a small knot at the bridge of his nose.

It looked like a warning sign, highlighting the severity of the current situation.

Immediately afterward, he abruptly raised his head, his gaze shooting toward the outside of the cave with a tangible intensity. His sharp eyes seemed to pierce right through the thick stone walls of the cavern, instantly catching sight of a massive horde of evil cultivators aggressively rushing toward them from afar.

Goodness gracious, that procession was vast and imposing; at a glance, a rough estimate revealed there were easily over a hundred of them!

Those evil cultivators were dressed in uniform black robes that, under the illumination of the sunlight, possessed no brightness whatsoever, instead exuding a hair-raising, gloomy aura.

It was as if a rolling mass of black clouds had surged forth from the nether realms of the nine underworlds, pressing down with boundless malice upon the peaceful and serene pure land of the alliance stronghold.

Wherever they passed, the once-vibrant vegetation seemed stripped of its vitality, staining everything in an ash-gray hue. Their branches and leaves drooped low, as if shivering in fear or dreading the invasion of this evil force.

"Do not panic, everyone!"

Yuchi Yuanhang snapped back to his senses, taking a deep breath before shouting with all his might.

His voice was steady and powerful, resounding through the cave like a great bell, with every syllable seemingly imbued with a calming magic.

It served as a potent reassurance to those present, gradually settling their initially flustered state of mind.

With a gaze as firm and steady as a towering mountain, he looked at his disciples one by one, his eyes filled with unquestionable resolution as he continued to raise his voice:

"Each of you must hold your respective formation eyes. You must understand that this protective array is now our final line of defense to repel foreign enemies and guard our stronghold. As long as we unite as one and pull together, we will surely weather the crisis before us.

Pull yourselves together and do not let the momentum of those evil cultivators intimidate you!"

Hearing these words, the disciples were momentarily stunned before snapping back to their senses and answering in unison. Although their voices carried a trace of tension, they also radiated a resolute determination to fight to the death.

Following that, the group rushed toward their respective assigned formation eyes. Their steps were hurried yet resolute, and though expressions of lingering tension were unmistakable on their faces,

their tightly pursed lips and clenched fists fully displayed their inner fortitude, indicating they were fully prepared to fight desperately against the approaching danger.

Meanwhile, outside the cavern, the hundred-odd evil cultivators had already formed their battle array in an orderly fashion under the command of two Core Formation stage evil cultivators.

The two Core Formation leaders stood at the very front of the formation, sinister yet smug expressions plastered across their faces, their eyes filled with absolute certainty and arrogance regarding the impending breach of the alliance stronghold.

It was as if they could already picture the scene of the stronghold falling and the defenders fleeing in chaos—a sight utterly repulsive to behold.

They raised their hands high, chanting incantations under their breath. The obscure and complex spells rolling off their tongues seemed endowed with a bewitching, captivating magic.

As the chants continued, rich black spiritual energy gushed from their palms like bubbling springs, converging into coiling, fanged black pythons.

These pythons emitted a nauseatingly evil aura as they undulated with massive bodies, winding their way toward the protective barrier.

They looked like a pack of starving beasts, eagerly lunging toward their prey.

Seeing this, the other evil cultivators also unleashed their respective arts.

In an instant, multicolored radiances intertwined—crimson like blood, green like ghost-fires, and black like the abyss. They converged into a surging, torrential flood that slammed fiercely into the defensive barrier with a heaven-shattering momentum.

"Boom—Boom—"

Accompanied by a series of deafening explosions, the entire cavern trembled violently as if struck by a massive earthquake.

Dislodged by the sheer force of the impact, sand and gravel showered down from the cave walls, kicking up a cloud of dust that choked the air and induced a fit of coughing.

Under this successive, overwhelming barrage of assaults, the previously bright and steady radiance of the protective array began to flicker erratically.

Resembling a candle in the wind, that faint glow teetered on the brink of extinction under the onslaught of darkness, threatening to collapse and shatter the entire array at any moment, leaving the stronghold completely exposed to the devastation of the evil cultivators.

At this extremely critical and perilous juncture, Xu Wanyi, the Supreme Elder of the Biluo Sect, arrived gracefully like a wisp of light-footed colored cloud.

With a nimble step, she landed upon a boulder not far away, her posture graceful and her flowing robes fluttering. Her ethereal and refined bearing made her look like a celestial being descending to the mortal realm, instantly drawing all eyes.

Yet, beneath that breathtaking poise lay a dignity that could not be underestimated, as if an invisible aura radiated from her person, rendering the surrounding air solemn and heavy.

She raised her slender hand, which harbored boundless power, and let out a cold snort from her nostrils.

Though her voice was not loud, it carried the biting chill and invisible deterrence of a winter gale, seemingly plunging the surrounding temperature by several degrees.

The previously noisy and clamorous atmosphere fell into a momentary dead silence at that single cold snort.

As her hand descended slowly through the air, the clear sky was suddenly agitated by an invisible, giant hand. The serene blue skies and white clouds vanished in an instant, replaced by rapidly gathering dark clouds.

Summoned by some mysterious force, those dark clouds surged from all directions, blotting out the sun in the blink of an eye and dyeing the entire vault of heaven in pitch-black tones.

Immediately afterward, a gigantic palm materialized out of thin air in the middle of the firmament.

The hand appeared to be condensed from solid mountain stone, with the grain of every single rock clearly visible.

Ancient and heavy, it radiated a powerful aura originating from primordial antiquity, as though it were the sovereign of this heaven and earth, possessing the power to shatter mountains and overturn seas.

Carrying a crushing, overwhelming momentum, the palm pressed downward toward the horde of evil cultivators.

The scene resembled the wrath of the heavens itself, intent on ruthlessly crushing all evil in this world, causing it to dissipate completely into the void without a chance of resurrection.

The evil cultivators were instantly hit by a terrifying pressure akin to Mount Tai pressing down upon their heads.

The magnitude of the pressure instantly made them feel as though countless heavy boulders were pinning their bodies down, rendering them completely incapable of movement.

Their arrogant and despotic expressions were instantly replaced by stark terror. Their eyes bulged wide with despair and fright, and involuntary shrieks escaped their lips. Yet the moment those sounds left their mouths, they were distorted by the ultimate intensity of the pressure, sounding exceptionally shrill and resembling the wails from the nethermost hell, making one's scalp tingle.

Even the two haughty and arrogant Core Formation evil cultivators turned as pale as paper. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down their foreheads like broken strings, instantly drenching their garments.

They tried every ounce of their strength to break free from the abyss-like restraint, flailing their hands wildly and chanting disjointed incantations, but no matter how they struggled, it was all in vain.

That force was like the shackles of destiny, binding them firmly in place, leaving them with no choice but to await their unknown fate in helpless despair.

Meanwhile, Su Hao, who had been observing in the shadows and waiting for the optimal moment, keenly seized this golden opportunity.

A chilling glint flashed across his slender eyes, sharp and brilliant like a shooting star cutting through the night sky. Without the slightest hesitation, he drew the longsword at his waist, which usually kept its brilliance restrained.

Accompanied by a crisp, melodious sword hum, the blade cleared its scabbard. The sound stood out sharply in the tense and silent atmosphere, yet it seemed to cheer for the impending fierce battle, whispering of its thirst for blood.

With a flash of lightning, Su Hao lightly tapped the ground with the tip of his foot, transforming into a ghostly afterimage as he rushed like a shooting star toward the direction of the evil cultivators.

Clutching his longsword tightly, spiritual energy surged along the blade, its radiant glow coiling around the metal like a nimble spiritual serpent, imbuing the weapon with a mystical and formidable aura.