Chapter 885: The Arrival!

True Lord Juejian soared into the sky only to spot the Golden-Winged Roc being ruthlessly hunted down by a black-cloaked figure wielding a sinister blood-hued blade.

It was clear—the Golden-Winged Roc was no match for this person.

Only by relying on fourteen puppets coiling around its body, forming an intricate puppet power array, and the help of an icy, puppet-like female cultivator, could it barely hold its ground.

Even so, the Golden-Winged Roc was in a desperate state, constantly fleeing for its life.

“A Nascent Soul cultivator at the mid-stage! Is this the Demonic Mastermind?”

True Lord Juejian eyed the cloaked figure. Sensing their magical aura, he recognized a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator.

Recalling his senior brother’s earlier message about the possible appearance of the Demonic Mastermind, realization dawned—the odds were high that this person was the infamous master from Liang Kingdom.

Judging by the situation, True Lord Yangming must have gone to ambush True Lord Qianren, sending his spirit beast, the Golden Roc, and the fourth-rank puppet king to Beast God Mountain.

Now that the news had broken of True Lord Qianren being killed by Yangming, it made sense the Demonic Mastermind would go after the Golden-Winged Roc.

“What about my senior brother? Is he facing off against True Lord Nine Spirits?”

As Juejian pondered, he didn’t hesitate any longer and shouted at the Golden-Winged Roc, “True Lord Golden Roc, I’ll help you!”

Even if he wasn’t a match for the Demonic Mastermind, he couldn’t stand by and watch them die.

If both the Golden-Winged Roc and Qian Zhuyan were injured or killed here, it would certainly enrage True Lord Yangming—the aftermath would be a disaster.

Besides, with Golden-Winged Roc and Qian Zhuyan resisting together, they could at least stall the Demonic Mastermind.

If he joined forces, the three of them might not defeat the enemy outright, but could buy precious time until Yangming arrived.

The Golden-Winged Roc had spotted True Lord Juejian early on.

He’d wanted to call for help, but felt awkward since they weren’t close.

Now, seeing Juejian leap in so boldly, the Roc let out a sharp screech, darting straight toward him like a bolt of wind.

“Huh!?” Mo Luo’s face darkened.

The Roc had been dodging his attacks with Qian Zhuyan’s puppet formation, and Mo Luo had struggled to deal with them quickly.

If another Nascent Soul cultivator joined in, his chances of killing the Roc would fall even more.

“Blood Sea Nightmare Art! Blood Shadow Life and Death Blade!”

Mo Luo stared at the Roc, dark red light bursting deep within his pupils, unleashing a horrifying wave of power.

Both the fleeing Roc and Qian Zhuyan, controller of the puppets, fell into a mental daze.

It was as if an endless crimson sea surged to drown and corrupt their spirits, threatening to swallow their very minds.

But as a fourth-rank shapeshifting demon king and a fourth-rank puppet spirit, their souls were far stronger than most—they snapped out of it with a single breath.

They realized this was some kind of soul technique.

But battles between Nascent Soul cultivators hinged on seconds.

Mo Luo sprang into action like a shadow, tearing through the void and closing in fast.

His soul-bound artifact, the Blood Shadow Blade, swept out—endless gray energy tore open the already battered formation, aiming to take the Roc’s head.

In that moment of crisis, the Roc’s bloodline potential exploded in full. Its feathers blazed with gold, a Heaven Roc Fighting Dragon Chart shimmered into being, pushing back against Mo Luo’s killing blade.

But the gap between an early fourth-rank and a mid-stage Nascent Soul was simply too vast.

The Roc had only ascended to fourth-rank eight years ago.

Even after devouring the Nascent Soul Spirit Body of True Lord Ming Sha and the remnant soul of the Flood Dragon Holy Son, fueling its rapid growth and awakening its potential—

—it still needed more time to truly catch up in power.

Qian Zhuyan snapped out of the blood sea’s effect, quickly pulling her shattered formation back together to help resist the strike.

With her aid, the Roc’s pressure eased up.

Still, it dared not get careless. Burning its own refined blood as it summoned the Heaven Roc’s dragon-fighting power, the Roc launched its myriad golden feathers at Mo Luo in a desperate counterattack.

But a surge of bloodlight erupted from Mo Luo’s chest, smashing apart the Roc’s feather swords like an endless tide, crashing relentlessly against its defenses.

The Roc’s skin crawled as that bloodlight suppressed and eroded its Heaven Roc chart and demon power.

Thankfully, the yet-to-be-digested essence of the Nascent Soul Spirit Body and flood dragon remnant inside it kept fueling its power, keeping it afloat.

“Boom! Boom! Boom—!”

Their clashing powers built into a terrifying storm.

Qian Zhuyan’s formation barely held after being sliced open. Her thirteen remaining puppets were damaged, their strength now a shadow of what it was before.

As the battle dragged on, the Roc’s golden feathers began to dim, some breaking and falling away.

“Clang!”

Suddenly, a ruthless black sword light hurtled toward Mo Luo, brimming with destructive intent.

Mo Luo’s cloaked form whipped in the wind, the bloodlight at his chest expanding into a giant hand to shatter the sword attack.

With True Lord Juejian joining the fray, Mo Luo had to split his focus, letting the Roc wriggle free and soar beside Juejian, cold eyes fixed on Mo Luo as an icy wind howled around them.

They couldn’t win—yet together, the three formed a solid defense.

The Roc’s bloodlust flared—he prayed his master would arrive soon and kill Mo Luo once and for all.

“Damn!”

Mo Luo’s tone was icy cold. He knew his chance to slay the Roc was gone.

With such powerful bloodline and speed matching a mid-stage Nascent Soul, and with Qian Zhuyan’s puppet formation, even he couldn’t finish it off quickly.

Now, with Juejian joining, the trio could hold him off, no more.

“Beast God Mountain—nothing but trouble!” Mo Luo cursed inwardly.

The Flood Dragon Holy Son had disobeyed and tried to save the Holy Maiden, leading to all four being captured by Yangming.

Now, during this chase, the Gold Mane Lion King gave up pursuit at the first sign of trouble, refusing to risk his own life.

If only the lion burned his own blood essence and kept up, why would he fear Juejian’s arrival?

“Let’s go!”

Mo Luo didn’t hesitate, dissolving into a bloody afterimage as he tore open the void and left.

He’d seen he couldn’t take down the Roc or puppet king, so there was no reason to waste energy.

After all, had it not been for his desire for the Roc and Qian Zhuyan, he’d never have bothered.

“True Lord Juejian, my master is almost here—don’t let him get away!”

The Roc watched as Mo Luo fled, unwilling to let him escape.

With a savage screech, it urged Juejian to mount up and chase, stalling Mo Luo’s retreat.

Juejian thought the Roc was brutal—just moments ago he’d been fleeing in terror, now he dared to block Mo Luo’s retreat.

He knew Mo Luo’s strength was fearsome—if he threw everything into it, one of them would surely fall. Still, hearing Yangming was almost there, Juejian hopped onto the Roc and pulled out a talisman, ready to fight.

“You’ve got guts!” Mo Luo saw the Roc closing in instead of backing off and flew into a rage.

He wasn’t afraid to fight; he just wanted to avoid Yangming. If he burned his trump cards, he might kill both the Roc and Juejian, but the cost would cripple him.

“Slash!” Mo Luo whipped his blood blade, sending wave after wave of blood-red energy surging at the Roc.

Qian Zhuyan and Juejian joined in, standing firm against the crimson sea.

The Roc glowed with gold, the Heaven Roc Manifestation blazing as it dove desperately at Mo Luo.

“So, Yangming must be close, or else how would this bird be so bold, blocking my exit?”

Mo Luo’s face grew colder, the cloak around him swirling with a metallic shimmer as he kept ducking into the void toward Beast God Mountain.

The Roc frantically burned its blood essence, using the dragon’s soul and remnant essence to keep going.

Enduring Mo Luo’s chase for so long without weariness was all thanks to that supply.

But just as Mo Luo had struggled to catch the Roc, now the Roc, with Qian Zhuyan and Juejian, couldn’t stop Mo Luo either—at best they could harass him, slow him down.

Time ticked by.

“Something’s off with this bird. Even with a True Spirit bloodline, how can it still have so much stamina and power?”

As the chase dragged on, Mo Luo grew suspicious.

Most puppet kings would hide and defend, terrified of running dry—this golden bird had been burning its own essence during the whole pursuit, taking wounds along the way.

And yet it still kept coming—something didn’t add up.

What he didn’t know was that the Roc’s survival instinct was in overdrive. The Nascent Soul essence and remnant soul inside it were being frantically refined, patching any losses and even fueling more growth.

“A mid-Nascent Soul master is terrifying, no doubt!”

Juejian, helping the Roc disrupt Mo Luo’s escape, felt the gulf between early and mid-stage Nascent Soul sharply.

No wonder those who broke through to the mid-stage were called giants in the cultivation world.

Old as he and the Roc were, and even with a fourth-rank puppet, they could only barely hold out in this kind of fight.

If not for the Roc’s screaming speed, stopping Mo Luo would be impossible.

“Senior brother…”

Juejian watched Mo Luo flee toward Beast God Mountain. Seeing a gap, he quickly sent True Lord Li Duanxuan a message, warning of possible trouble.

If his brother was safe, maybe they could cut off Mo Luo at the mountain’s edge.

“Why isn’t Yangming here yet?”

Juejian wondered—if Yangming didn’t come, not even his senior brother could keep Mo Luo from escaping.

He wasn’t alone in his doubts.

Mo Luo wondered, too.

If this Roc was stalling so hard, Yangming had to be close—so why hadn’t he shown up?

Without Yangming, how could a mere early fourth-rank demon king dare be so aggressive?

Had he not still been wary of Yangming, Mo Luo might’ve just stopped and chopped the Roc to pieces.

Meanwhile, Lu Changsheng raced at full speed toward Beast God Mountain, gripping his Misty Dust Banner.

Earlier, he’d sensed the Roc and Qian Zhuyan flying toward him with all they had.

But now they had turned back, streaming toward Beast God Mountain.

Even with the Misty Dust Banner, it was hard to close the gap.

To avoid draining his own power, Lu Changsheng tossed spirit stones into the banner and burned them mercilessly to cover his consumption.

He gulped pills and spirit medicine nonstop, keeping his power up so he could keep pushing forward.

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—”

Bathed in colors like smears of sunlight, the Misty Dust Banner carried Lu Changsheng through violent gales, lightning storms, and turbulent currents as he shot across the Great Void.

He was moving faster than most mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators.

Thanks to this rare artifact, Lu Changsheng had managed to catch up with True Lord Qianren after breaking his seal. When Qianren tried to escape with a self-detonation, Lu Changsheng just took the hit with his Nine Abyss Black Tortoise Armor and mid-stage body, capturing the Nascent Soul Spirit Body unharmed.

Back at Beast God Mountain, True Lord Nine Spirits grew uneasy when Mo Luo didn’t return for a long while.

He might not know all the details, but he was certain Mo Luo was at least mid-stage Nascent Soul.

How could that be not enough to handle a mere spirit beast and puppet?

“Prepare yourselves. Yangming will be here soon.”

Just then, Nine Spirits received a message from Mo Luo and his face turned grim.

Clearly, something unexpected had happened en route.

He took a deep breath, glanced at the giant dragon-croc in the blood pool, and stopped urging its growth.

He tossed a Bloodfiend Beast Core into its mouth, fully sealing the beast in sleep.

The plan—wake it with a secret technique when Yangming arrived.

“Yangming, you little brat…”

Nine Spirits stared at the slumbering beast, then at the mountain around him, his hands clenching into fists, cold hatred in his eyes.

Once this beast woke and raged, the ancient sect of Beast God Mountain—built upon countless years of heritage—would be all but destroyed.

To him, the culprit for all this was none other than Yangming.

If not for Yangming stalling the Heaven Corpse Sect Master and destroying True Lord Tiancang’s body, Liang Kingdom could’ve pressed its advantage, conquering most of Yue Kingdom too.

With the spoils and resources, Liang and Jin could slowly consume both Yue and Jiang.

But Yangming’s intervention ground everything to a halt—forcing Nine Spirits to ally with Yuan and pour all their savings into the war.

Just when things were on track, promising new Nascent Soul cultivators like the Flood Dragon Holy Son and Holy Maiden were coming up—

Given more time, Beast God Mountain might have swallowed Yue and Jiang, reaching an unprecedented peak.

But then reality hit like a hammer—Tiancang, the Flood Dragon Holy Son, and the Holy Maiden all fell to Yangming.

How could he not hate Yangming? He wanted nothing more than to skin him alive, rip out his bones, and eat his flesh.

In fact, he’d pushed hard for Qianren to capture Lu Lingxiao—partly for intel on Yangming, partly just to vent his resentment.

From a distance, the Gold Mane Lion King sensed his master’s fury and rumbled, “Master, hatred’s blinded you.”

Though pet and master, as fourth-rank demon kings, they stood as equals, with Nine Spirits only nominally in command.

The lion could see his master wasn’t himself, so he spoke up.

“Gold Mane, Beast God Mountain won’t last much longer.”

Nine Spirits’ massive frame loomed as he replied quietly.

The Lion King knew Nine Spirits’ feelings for the mountain ran deep.

He felt the same.

“Mo Luo isn’t trustworthy,” the lion growled.

Though Mo Luo had done much in the Liang-Yue war, the lion sensed he was always too cautious, never risking himself when true danger came.

Part of the current mess was his fault.

“I know, but we have no other choice.”

Nine Spirits’ tone was grave.

“Survive and make for Wan Shou Mo Sect—that’s our only chance to turn the tide.”

The Lion King nodded. He didn’t trust Mo Luo and hoped Nine Spirits would flee at the first sign the plan failed.

“Mm.” Nine Spirits murmured, gazing into the distance.

Outside the mountain, True Lord Xuanjian had received word from Junior Brother Yun Jianfeng and peered into the horizon.

His elegant hand gripped his soul-bound flying sword as he waited in silence for Mo Luo to approach.

Moments passed. At last, Xuanjian sensed the Demonic Mastermind closing in. He readied his strike—the sword he’d been preparing for so long.

Sword cultivators, though not pure assassins, wield killing power on par with a hitman’s one lethal blow.

One breath, two, three…

At last, a figure cloaked in gray light, half-between Void and reality, came hurtling toward Beast God Mountain.

“Kill!”

Xuanjian’s blade flashed from its sheath.

Searing sword Qi, brimming with lethal intent, ripped the world open, slashing straight for Mo Luo.

“Shish—shish—shish!”

The blow was terrifying—Mo Luo’s protective barrier and Nascent Soul domain shredded under the attack.

Sword light continued, tearing open part of Mo Luo’s cloak and body.

Still, a mid-Nascent Soul’s power was overwhelming, and his cloak was a fine-grade spirit artifact. Ghostly light pushed back, softening the blow, but cracks appeared nonetheless.

Xuanjian’s eyes were frosty as his blade trembled—a few more flying swords darted from his sleeves, weaving an inescapable net to trap Mo Luo inside.

“Li Duanxuan!” Mo Luo immediately spotted the concealed sword lord, face darkening.

He’d studied Xuanjian’s history ages ago—knew full well the man’s talent. A dragon rising from shallow waters.

He just hadn’t guessed the man was hiding here all along, slipping past his own senses.

“Think you can hold me back?” Mo Luo’s eyes burned with fury. The chase had left him simmering for blood, and now this ambush only lit the fuse.

He called out, “Nine Spirits!”, planning to team up with the mountain lord and kill the Roc.

In the past, Mo Luo always held back—partly to avoid risks, partly to escape the Nascent Soul masters in the Central Domain. But now, he was ready to return to the Blood Sea Sect—what did it matter if things got noisy?

Mostly, years of pent-up frustration boiled over: when had someone like him ever been pressed this far?

“Screech!”

The Golden-Winged Roc, wrapped in golden radiance and armed with the Heaven Roc Chart, dived at him in a devastating charge.

Juejian, perched atop the Roc, sent his blade darting out as well.

Qian Zhuyan didn’t join in—her puppets were damaged, crystals nearly spent, she could barely block some incoming attacks now.

Mo Luo’s chest glowed with bloodlight, forming a bloody hand that slapped at the Roc but was sliced by Juejian’s sword. His barrier and Nascent Soul domain, already pierced by Xuanjian, meant even his cloak tore at the shoulder.

“Blood Shadow True Body!”

Mo Luo let loose a savage roar as spectral blood shadows flooded from him.

A towering avatar of blood loomed behind him, hurling a torrent of crimson water to swallow the Roc.

This Blood Shadow wasn’t just Nascent Soul grade—it could corrode others’ magical energy, making it all the more dreadful.

But burning power at this level drained Mo Luo tremendously. He rarely risked it.

“Boom! Boom! Boom—!”

The Roc’s eyes flashed with icy resolve. With its rage fully awakened and burning its own essence, it collided head on with the blood shadow in an earth-shattering clash.

“Juejian, Golden Roc, how much longer till Yangming arrives?”

Xuanjian called out, hoping Yangming would arrive before things got dire.

The four of them might be able to pressure Mo Luo or even win, but with Nine Spirits nearly there, things could flip in a flash.

“True Lord Yangming is almost here,” Juejian replied.

Despite the Roc being lost in instinct, it still had a clear head. He dared press so deep into enemy territory only because Li Duanxuan was here and Yangming was just moments away.

“Good!” Xuanjian didn’t hesitate, pouring his Nascent Soul power into his sword array, conjuring a giant sword avatar to strike at Mo Luo.

“Dharma Manifestation?”

Seeing Xuanjian use such a rare power at early Nascent Soul, Mo Luo was quietly impressed.

Only real prodigies could pull this off.

Mo Luo’s cloak whipped and blood flashed at his chest, the Blood Shadow Blade flying wildly as he went toe-to-toe with the trio.

Still, facing three Nascent Soul juggernauts, he was now stuck in a deadlock.

“Boom! Boom! Boom—!”

The battle raged violently, Nascent Soul power streaming out for miles.

Even mountains far away could feel the aftershocks.

“Roar!”

Soon enough, a thunderous lion’s roar echoed across the land.

True Lord Nine Spirits, riding the Gold Mane Lion King, thundered onto the field.

He was a giant—a mane of tangled gray and white hair, coppery eyes burning as he glared at Xuanjian and the Roc, radiating crushing power.

“Fight and fall back as needed.” Xuanjian ordered, aiming to stall for Yangming’s arrival.

“True Lord Golden Roc!” Juejian and Qian Zhuyan called to the Roc, hoping to keep it grounded.

Even as rage overwhelmed it, the Roc heeded Qian Zhuyan’s reminder that its master was nearly here and pulled back, fighting defensively.

Nine Spirits wasted no time. He summoned a stone stool covered in bestial patterns.

“Roar!”

Empowered by Nascent Soul magic, the stool blazed, projecting a spectral suanni that bellowed at the Roc with a terrifying beast roar.

The Lion King added a roar of its own, unleashing a wave of sonic force aiming to rip the Roc apart.

On one hand, the lion wanted to devour the Roc; on the other, Nine Spirits’ greatest grudge was with Yangming’s spirit beast.

“Bang!”

Even with the others helping take the pressure, the stone stool’s power weighed on the Roc, stifling its demon force.

Targeted by both the Lion King and the blood avatar, the Roc took a heavy blow, feathers scattering as it tumbled aside.

Luckily, as a fourth-rank demon king, it was tough and resilient—these were only superficial wounds.

“Be careful, my friend! Beast God Mountain specializes in controlling beasts and has plenty of ways to restrict your power!” Xuanjian warned the Roc.

“Hop on!” The Roc called to Xuanjian. He realized that, against Nine Spirits, he was down thirty percent of his power.

If his master came any later, he’d be captured or gravely wounded.

Mo Luo, knowing how fast the Roc was, attacked with his blood blade to try and block them from regrouping.

Nine Spirits’ wild mane swirled as he unleashed the stone stool, then drew a cold, silvery Nine-Ringed Broadsword.

The blade was wide and solid, liquid light running down its edge. Nine bronze rings on the back were carved with ferocious beast totems, each crevice leaking colored mist like trapped souls.

“Kill!”

With a furious roar, he slashed—the sword and its nine beast phantoms flying out together, shrieking as they lunged to devour souls.

With both Nine Spirits and the Lion King coming on hard, the Roc and Juejian buckled under the sudden pressure.

“Go!”

Though outmatched by Mo Luo, Xuanjian had broken through ages ago, refined his Nascent Soul domain, and gained a deep mastery of the void.

His sword intent and array carved open a path through Mo Luo’s traps, letting him leap to the Roc’s side and help break through Nine Spirits’ encirclement.

“Screech!” With Xuanjian aboard, the Roc darted away, using speed to stay mobile.

“Nine Spirits, just keep it suppressed!”

Mo Luo sent a mental message to his ally.

Dark light glimmered in his eyes—he was preparing yet another soul attack as his blade and blood avatar barreled down.

Nine Spirits poured all his magic into the stone stool, swelling the suanni phantom for another bone-rattling roar.

“Careful!” Xuanjian warned—the most deadly dangers at this level weren’t just magic, but the soul arts.

If anyone was caught off guard, death would be swift.

He sealed off the area with sword formations, putting up a barrier against the attacks.

“Boom!”

Under double suppression, the Roc’s mind wavered as its spirit faltered.

Luckily Xuanjian and Juejian helped hold the line, blocking the worst of Mo Luo and the Lion King’s onslaught. The Roc was still lightly wounded, flush with energy but shaken.

When it snapped out of it, it let out a defiant cry and withdrew, wings beating as it circled in retreat.

Mo Luo and Nine Spirits knew Yangming could arrive at any moment, but pressed their attack, desperate to finish the Roc and Xuanjian off before he did.

The battle only grew fiercer.

Now, with Nine Spirits holding him down, the Roc was in deeper trouble—forced to rely on Xuanjian and Juejian just to stay in the fight.

Even Juejian was faltering under Mo Luo’s attacks—he looked battered, nearly at his limit.

If not for Yangming’s imminent arrival, he might have abandoned the Roc and made a run for it.

Dragging this out too much longer would risk running out of power—and being unable to escape at all.

“Boom! Boom! Boom—!”

Under the furious barrage from Mo Luo and the Lion King, the Roc’s vast form slammed into a far-off mountain peak.

The shockwaves shattered rock, flattened trees, and sent clouds of dust soaring into the sky.

Again, the Roc’s powerful body saved him—he let out a cry, spread his wings, and vanished into the void.

“Blood Shadow Life and Death Blade!” Mo Luo’s voice was sharp as he ripped into the void, using his deadliest power to chase the Roc.

“Huh?!”

At that moment, a dangerous feeling swept over Mo Luo—his intuition warning of oncoming peril.

Years at the mid-Nascent Soul stage had taught him caution—he stopped and scanned the area, blood light igniting in his eyes.

Suddenly—

He saw a beam of blazing sunlight—bright as a new day—shatter the void and pierce toward him.

“Not good!”

Even as a mid-Nascent Soul master, Mo Luo felt real fear from this light—a sense of unmatched danger.

He hastily wielded his greatest power to retreat, pushing his barriers and shrouded in ghostly light.

“What is that?”

Nine Spirits and the Lion King both noticed the beam—it wasn’t aimed at them, but dread still crawled over their skin.

“Screech!”

The Roc screamed skyward, knowing his master had arrived and vengeance was within reach.

But with the sunbeam’s force so hard to judge, he didn’t dare charge at Mo Luo—instead, he swept toward Nine Spirits.