To the north, the three patrol teams had already appeared within their line of sight. They wore black robes, their hoods obscuring most of their faces, revealing only pale chins and cracked lips. A faint black mist coiled around their bodies, exuding an unsettling aura, as if even the air itself was being corroded by it.
"Void Cult scum!" Ares roared. His Thunder Wolf Martial Soul erupted with full force as nine soul rings materialized above his head—two yellow, two purple, and five black. The brilliance of the nine soul rings illuminated the dim ice plains. Wrapped in blue lightning, his entire being transformed into a streak of lightning as he charged toward the three patrol teams.
"Thunder Wolf First Soul Skill—Thunder Claw!"
Ares' right hand morphed into a colossal claw of thunderous light, swiping down at the foremost patrol team. The lightning wolf claw traced five blue arcs through the air, striking three black-robed figures. Before they could even scream, their bodies were incinerated into charred remains by the lightning, and the black mist dissipated into nothingness amidst the sparks.
"Their defenses aren't strong!" Ares shouted back to the students. "But don't let your guard down, their attacks are bizarre!"
The students followed closely behind, clashing with the Void Cult members.
Chen Hao was matched against a black-robed figure who appeared to be around his age. The figure's Martial Soul was a black scythe, its blade wreathed in nauseating black mist. The black-robed cultist swung the scythe, and the dark mist morphed into a crescent blade, slashing toward Chen Hao.
Chen Hao sidestepped the attack and swung his Sword of Light horizontally. The golden sword aura collided with the black mist, emitting a sizzling sound like cold water splashing onto a red-hot iron plate. The black mist rapidly dissipated under the golden sword aura, but Chen Hao also felt a significant drain on his soul power.
"Light counters darkness," Chen Hao thought, recalling Zhao Feng's teachings. "But the prerequisite is that my willpower must be stronger than my opponent's."
Seeing his first strike miss, the black-robed cultist swung his scythe once more, this time unleashing his soul skill—Void Slash. The black mist transformed into three massive phantom scythes, slashing at Chen Hao from three different directions. Each phantom scythe carried a bizarre suction force, as if trying to rip Chen Hao's soul straight from his body.
Chen Hao took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then snapped them open again. His eyes sparkled with a golden light as he raised the Sword of Light above his head and brought it crashing down.
"Sword of Light, First Form—Daybreak!"
This was a soul skill he had created himself, inspired by the Daybreak Sword Art that Zhao Feng had once used on the battlefield. Golden sword aura erupted from the tip of the blade, radiating like a newly risen sun and driving away all the surrounding darkness. The three phantom scythes were as fragile as paper before the golden sword aura, instantly torn to shreds. The aura's momentum remained undiminished as it struck the black-robed cultist squarely in the chest, blasting him away.
The black-robed cultist tumbled several times across the snow, struggling to stand, but the wound on his chest made even breathing difficult. Chen Hao walked over and pressed the Sword of Light against his throat.
"Talk. Where is your base? What's inside?"
The cultist lifted his head, his hood slipping off to reveal a young but distorted face. His eyes were gray, devoid of pupils, like two cloudy glass beads. He stared at Chen Hao, a bizarre smile twisting his lips: "You... think you've won?"
A sudden sense of danger flared in Chen Hao's mind, but it was already too late. The black-robed cultist's body suddenly expanded, black mist surging from his seven orifices, before detonating with a deafening boom. Chen Hao was hurled back by the shockwave, slamming heavily into the snow. His white robe was torn in several places, and a gash appeared on his left arm, bleeding profusely. However, the black mist failed to invade his body, as the golden protective aura of the Sword of Light warded off the wicked forces.
"Are you alright?" a student ran over and pulled Chen Hao to his feet.
"I'm fine." Chen Hao flexed his left arm; though it hurt, the bone was unharmed. "This guy... actually self-destructed."
"Are all the Void Cult members crazy?" the student said, his heart still pounding.
"Not crazy, brainwashed." Chen Hao wiped the blood from his face. "The Strategist said that the Void Cult worships the Void. They believe death isn't the end, but a return. That's why they don't fear death; they even crave it."
The battle raged on. Ares was like a God of Thunder, rampaging through the enemy ranks. Every strike carried the force of a thunderbolt, and the black-robed cultists were as fragile as paper figures before him. In less than fifteen minutes, he had already slain over twenty enemies, the lightning power radiating from him growing stronger and stronger, as if inexhaustible.
However, things weren't going as smoothly for the students. Though their strength wasn't weak, they lacked real combat experience. Facing the bizarre attack methods of the Void Cult, some students began to show signs of fatigue. One student was struck by a black-robed cultist's dark mist; he screamed and collapsed to the ground, his face instantly turning ashen, his soul power fluctuations turning chaotic and weak.
"Medic!" Chen Hao shouted. "Save him, quickly!"
A student whose Martial Soul was the Tree of Life rushed over, pressing both hands against the injured student's chest. A pale green light poured into his body, dispelling the black mist. But the corrosive nature of the black mist was too potent; the Tree of Life's healing power could only barely suppress its spread, unable to eradicate it completely.
"It's no good, this mist is too bizarre," the medic said, drenched in sweat. "I need time."
Chen Hao gritted his teeth and turned back into the fray. He knew that the most important thing right now was to end the battle as quickly as possible and find a safe place to treat the wounded. The longer they dragged it out, the more disadvantageous it would be for their side.
On the other side, Su Chen had already entered a standoff with the three black-robed powerhouses.
The three stood atop an ice mound, looking down at Su Chen from above. Their black robes were embroidered with silver patterns, unlike the black patterns of the ordinary cultists, signifying their higher status within the Void Cult. The soul power fluctuations of all three were intensely strong—at least at the Soul Douluo level—and one of them even made Su Chen feel a hint of pressure. He was a tall, imposing man with knotted muscles faintly visible beneath his black robe. His soul power carried a heart-palpitating, oppressive aura, indicating he was at least a Level 95 Titled Douluo.
"Su Chen, Qian Renxue's strategist, the comrade of Zhao Feng and Lin Mo." The tall man spoke, his voice deep and rumbling like thunder. "I didn't expect you to come to a place like this in person. It seems Qian Renxue's sacrifice dealt you a heavy blow, making you impulsive."
Su Chen looked at him calmly. "Who are you?"
"My name is Mo Yuan, the Left Guardian of the Void Cult," the tall man said. "Three years ago, my senior brother Xuan Ming died at Qian Renxue's hands, slain under the combined assault of you, Zhao Feng, and Lin Mo. Today, I will avenge him."
"Xuan Ming?" Su Chen recalled that in the final battle three years ago, there was indeed a powerhouse claiming to be the Void Cult's Right Guardian who had been slain by Qian Renxue's Angel Holy Sword. "You're his junior brother?"
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