Chapter 30: Chaos in the Sect

Inside the secret chamber, flames surged within the pill furnace. Yang Zhengfeng sat cross-legged before it, his face shrouded in the aura of death, yet his eyes brimmed with an intense vitality. Such juxtaposition was uncanny—one on the verge of passing would never exude such life, but Yang Zhengfeng possessed it nonetheless. Stranger still, the vitality he held was mottled and fractured, threaded with strands of discontent and resentment, all forcibly suppressed by his will.

“The third day…” Yang Zhengfeng glanced at the ancient, imposing cauldron beside the pill furnace. It was utterly silent now.

Jiang Ning was inside.

He sat cross-legged, his entire body submerged in the thick, potent blood of monstrous beasts, with only his head exposed above the surface. All the while, he strove to resist the wild, chaotic power raging within, searching for the precious traces of first-grade bloodlines hidden among the chaos.

“These two first-grade bloodlines…” Jiang Ning furrowed his brow. Though unsure of the exact origins of these beastly lineages, he could sense their domineering nature: one granted physical strength, the other speed. Yet, the quantities seemed lacking…

When he had absorbed Erhuang’s bloodline, he’d lost control. The evolution method he used was almost predatory, seizing the bloodline by force and nearly causing Erhuang’s demise—a close call that still haunted him.

“The evolution method demands vast amounts of bloodline!” But now, within this cauldron, the beast blood was so muddled that while he tried to absorb it, he also had to ward off the destructive force threatening his body, making progress agonizingly slow.

Suddenly, the cauldron trembled violently. Jiang Ning sensed the array above him had been released, and a hand of condensed spiritual energy seized him—Yang Zhengfeng’s doing.

“Damn that old bastard!” Jiang Ning cursed inwardly, but quickly feigned weakness.

“Hm? Still alive?” Yang Zhengfeng was astonished. The sealed cauldron had masked all life force within; he had been certain Jiang Ning was already dead. Yet here he was, clinging to life.

“Curse you, old man. May you die a wretched death!” Jiang Ning’s maledictions were ceaseless.

Yang Zhengfeng’s expression shifted, his eyes sharp and penetrating, as if to see through all of Jiang Ning’s secrets. Then he spoke: “Cease your resistance. You cannot withstand it.” He believed Jiang Ning had been using his own spiritual energy to resist the invasion of the beast blood.

“Your constitution truly is extraordinary…”

Jiang Ning, in contrast, felt a measure of relief. “So the old man hasn’t realized I have the Immortal Spirit Body yet…” That was a stroke of luck.

“Old man, you’re at death’s door—why torment me so?”

“Before you die, can you at least tell me what your aim is?” Jiang Ning cursed again, voicing his doubts. Xianyun Sect was too mysterious, riddled with enigmas. If he wanted to escape, he needed to know his enemy.

A rumble echoed from outside the secret chamber.

Yang Zhengfeng’s face tightened, then changed drastically. “Six Paths Sect!” He shoved Jiang Ning back into the cauldron with a single palm, earning another barrage of curses.

He turned to the pill furnace. “Rise!” With a mighty slap of his spiritual hand, the lid of the furnace flew off, releasing a wave of pill fragrance into the chamber. Strangely, the scent, which should have been pleasing, instead made Jiang Ning feel as if it was stabbing into his very being—a chilling, piercing cold.

Yang Zhengfeng pinched his fingers, sending the pill directly into the cauldron with Jiang Ning. Then, forming a profound array in the air, he pressed it down again.

“Damn you—!” Jiang Ning’s curse was cut short as he was forced back into the cauldron, his voice sealed away. No matter how he raged, the chamber fell silent.

“Time grows short…” Yang Zhengfeng’s voice was hoarse as death, his gaze icy. In the next instant, he vanished from the chamber, heading straight for the sect’s main hall.

…

“People of Xianyun Sect, come out!”

“Hand over Jiang Ning!”

“Are you all cowards, hiding away after your deeds? Too afraid to face the consequences?”

The disciples of Six Paths Sect shouted at the gate of the sect, righteous indignation in their voices, some itching to shatter the great protective array.

“Old dogs of Xianyun Sect, come out and accept your fate! Do you think Six Paths Sect is a weakling you can trample at will? I’ll—!” One disciple cursed with unbridled enthusiasm, slandering the ancestors of Xianyun Sect with relish, and seemed far from finished.

His vulgar tirade made even his own sect brothers look on with odd expressions. Such coarse words sounded strange coming from a cultivator, but since he was one of their own and targeting Xianyun Sect, no one objected.

“It’s Brother Huang Heng.”

“Strange, isn’t he usually the quiet type?”

All eyes turned to Huang Heng, bouncing about, hurling insults.

“He must have bottled it up for too long—finally letting off steam.”

“Indeed, especially after he was dumped by Senior Sister Wang Jing.”

Huang Heng grew more impassioned with each insult, and when he spotted elders of Xianyun Sect appearing, he darted behind his fellow disciples, yet continued to taunt from safety.

The crowd was speechless.

…

“Six Paths Sect, you dare cause trouble in Xianyun Sect? What is the meaning of this?” A thunderous voice, imbued with the resonance of the Great Dao, rolled out from the palace.

“It’s the Sect Master of Xianyun Sect!” Someone exclaimed.

From afar, Yang Zhengfeng stood atop a floating palace, his gaze cold as he surveyed the crowd. A powerhouse of the Ninth Heaven of Gods and Demons, his shout alone sent chills through the Six Paths Sect disciples, making them break into a cold sweat despite the barrier between them.

“Hmph!” Just then, a rift tore open in the sky behind the Six Paths Sect disciples. From it stepped an equally ancient figure, dressed in a robe of eight trigrams, exuding the aura of an immortal sage in harmony with all things, yet carrying the keen edge of an unsheathed sword.

“The Sect Master!” the Six Paths disciples breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s done!” Secretly, in the back row, Huang Heng was full of smug satisfaction. For he was none other than Li Zhenyu, who had taken on Jiang Ning’s guise days earlier to provoke the Six Paths Sect.

He had done quite a bit in the past few days: in Jiang Ning’s form, he’d insulted every cultivator of Six Paths Sect, mocked their female disciples, and, worse still, ambushed those on missions, boasting he’d kill any who crossed his path. He even robbed the inner disciples of their treasures, declaring that only the strong had the right to possess them. Afterward, the inner disciples disappeared, rumored to have been killed.

Li Zhenyu, of course, had not killed any of them. There was no deep grudge—he would not kill the innocent. He possessed a precious artifact that could block all auras, and had stashed the missing disciples in a hidden forest spot, held captive by its power, unable to escape.

When he heard the Sect Master of Six Paths was furious, believing the missing disciples were captured by the infamous Jiang Ning of Xianyun Sect, he knew hostilities would escalate. The two sects were already rivals, their grievances long-standing. Now, the disciples of Six Paths swarmed out, demanding Jiang Ning be handed over.

Li Zhenyu, unperturbed, simply transformed into an ordinary disciple and slipped in among the crowd. His art of disguise was an ancient and profound technique, fooling even the strongest of the God-Demon realm, and with his mastery of the Supreme Dao, he could mimic any aura at will.

He had no fear. His only worry was that the old monsters of Xianyun Sect wouldn’t show themselves. That’s why he had been the most boisterous just moments ago.

“Kid, for your sake, I’ve gone to quite some lengths…” Though his words were those of effort and hardship, Li Zhenyu’s expression was one of unabashed delight—clearly, he was enjoying himself immensely.