Even if hatred consumed him, Mu Zixu had no choice now but to negotiate with Song Wanníng. He had already made one disastrous decision. He could not allow the inheritance to vanish in the lower realm again. Threats and bribes, one or the other would sway her.
His eyes burned with intensity as he cast out his bait. "As long as you allow me to pass down the inheritance to that girl, I can leave another copy for you as well."
If he could not choose between them, then he would simply pass it to both.
As long as the girl in white received the legacy, that was enough.
As for this woman...
With her heart plagued by inner demons, her path to immortality was already broken. Sooner or later, she would die here in the lower realm.
"But you must promise me this," he said sternly. "You are forbidden from using pills to harm others, and you are never to walk the world under the title of a descendant of the Yaowang Sect."
The fact that she had poisoned the girl in white already revealed her vicious nature. She was not worthy to inherit the legacy of the Yaowang Sect.
"If you accept these conditions, I will hand the inheritance over to you."
Mu Zixu resumed his superior tone, the look in his eyes full of condescension. But to Song Wanníng, it was laughable.
"And where do you get the courage to bargain with me now?" Her smile faded, lips pressing downward. A shadow fell over her gaze as she slowly looked him over. Then she laughed again.
Mocking, unrestrained.
"Trying to threaten me?
You think I'll lose?
You should be worrying about your precious allies in the spirit realm and immortal realm instead. Don't come crying about regret when the Yaowang Sect is erased from history."
Anyone could throw threats around. She would not be forced into making a decision now.
"How dare you—"
Mu Zixu hadn't expected her to be so defiant. She was utterly beyond reason.
"You had better think this through. This is the legacy of the Yaowang Sect."
They had once been a top-tier sect in the lower realm. He refused to believe she felt no temptation.
"And so what if it is?"
Song Wanníng's gaze turned sharp. That tone of charity was what she despised the most.
"Even without your Yaowang Sect, I am still a master of alchemy. And you? Who do you think you are?"
"Fine, fine—" Mu Zixu let out a bitter laugh, more furious than amused. So this was what true arrogance looked like. Just a mere Nascent Soul cultivator, and she dared to behave like this. Ridiculous.
"You'll regret this." His eyes darkened. To be forced into such a state by a girl, the humiliation burned like poison in his chest.
But there was no time.
From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the unconscious Ye Chuxue. His mind was made. He would endure damage to his own soul if that's what it took to force the inheritance into the girl in white, and send her away safely.
There was no time to lose.
But just as Mu Zixu began to act, Song Wanníng suddenly laughed.
Her smile bloomed more vividly than a spring flower.
She stood there quietly, gazing at him, and yet a wave of deep fear rose from within his soul.
"You—"
His eyes went wide with panic, and in the next instant, Song Wanníng swung her sword. She struck not at him, but directly toward the neatly arranged spirit tablets.
Sword intent surged, countless shadows slicing through the air like ghosts, killing intent crashing forward like a tide.
"No—!"
Mu Zixu screamed, lunging desperately toward them.
When the spatial storm had struck, most of his disciples had been swallowed by the chaos. Elders and even the patriarch had sacrificed themselves to protect him, but they had all perished without leaving a trace behind.
Those spirit tablets were the only thing he could do for them, the last act of devotion clung to by obsession.
Boom—
A deafening explosion shook the hall. Shockwaves rippled outwards. The barrier around the tablets flared violently.
Song Wanníng's smile curled upward. Her eyes shimmered with cold malice as she struck again, and again.
Mu Zixu forgot all about the inheritance. He threw himself into defending the barrier, desperate and trembling. His eyes were bloodshot. If he could, he would drink her blood, devour her flesh.
"How dare you—"
Song Wanníng turned to look at him, tilting her head with the same mocking calm as before.
"Then watch closely. See if I dare."
She winked at him playfully. Her sword flashed once more, merciless and precise.
A storm of killing intent engulfed the entire inheritance hall. The space itself froze in place.
From the deepest part of her soul, malice was drawn forth.
Demon, Dao.
Utterly her own.
One sword.
The barrier shattered.
Mu Zixu's body burst apart, leaving only his furious howls echoing into the sky.
"Madwoman! Lunatic!
I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
Kill you..."
His voice faded, replaced by the sound of Song Wanníng's soft, mocking laughter.
The sword fell. The wind went still.
The spirit tablets were reduced to dust, countless fragments scattering across the floor.
What remained was only ruin.
She slowly looked up toward the sky above, smiling with meaning that ran far deeper than words.
"I warned you already. The Yaowang Sect would perish. That name... was always cursed."
"Pft—" Mu Zixu's soul snapped back to his body, and he immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood. Red splashed across the stone table before him like falling plum blossoms.
"Zixu!" Wang Yang stepped forward in alarm, trying to support him, only to be shoved aside.
Blood spilled from Mu Zixu's lips. His aura surged wildly, completely unstable. His eyes were full of violent rage.
The water mirror still echoed with Song Wanníng's taunts. His fury surged again. He spat out another mouthful of blood.
"Wretched woman! Bitch!" He leaned heavily on the table, fingers digging into the stone edge. The veins on his hands bulged, threatening to burst.
Looking at the shattered fragments of the spirit tablets, his eyes turned crimson, the grief too much to bear. Because of that woman, the inheritance of the Yaowang Sect had ended. Even the resting places of his fallen disciples were destroyed.
Even if he rebuilt everything, it would never be the same again.
He hated Song Wanníng more than anything.
"Zixu, calm down!" Wang Yang grabbed his arm, brows drawn tight, full of helplessness.
"Calm down? She destroyed the spirit tablets of the Yaowang Sect. How am I supposed to calm down?" Mu Zixu roared, lashing out even at Wang Yang.
"You're still defending her? Whose friend are you?"
"You—" Wang Yang's patience finally snapped. Fire rose in his chest.
"If you had just let her leave, would any of this have happened?
You struck first!"
Everyone had seen it clearly. Mu Zixu had brought this on himself.
Even as a friend, Wang Yang could not pretend otherwise.
"You—" Mu Zixu staggered, choking on his rage. It clogged in his chest, unable to rise or fall.
"Did you see her face? That arrogance? Could you stand it? Someone like her deserves to have her bones crushed to dust, to never know rebirth!" The words had barely left his mouth when a wave of killing intent swept over him.
The rest of his curses caught in his throat. Mu Zixu turned in shock to face Immortal Lord Moyang.
"Immortal King, you—"
A cold chill ran down his spine.
Immortal King Moyang glanced at them with an expressionless gaze.
Then, without a word, he raised his hand and brought it down toward Mu Zixu's head.