Liu Yao of Wangshan Sect was dead, executed in the mountains by the sect's Ancestor as part of a purge.
Under the guidance of Meng Yang and the others, this news quickly spread across the entire region.
Alongside the official report were whispers and rumors. They said Liu Yao had indeed committed grave offenses and was cleansed as part of internal sect discipline. However, it was also said that the Sect Master had been assassinated due to personal vendettas. The two deaths were not the same.
One was the Sect Master, the other merely a Nascent Soul cultivator. The impact of their deaths was vastly different. Wangshan Sect had chosen this method to minimize the damage as much as possible.
Upon hearing this, Song Wanníng sneered.
Still, she could understand. Sometimes, decisions had to be made for the good of the sect rather than out of personal feelings. But this matter of the Wangshan Sect Master had disrupted her plans.
The Sect Master of Wentian Sect had already made several public blunders, and his support among the disciples was waning.
She had originally intended to expose his improper personal conduct and his indulgence of reckless subordinates, using the scandal to remove him from his position.
But now, compared to what the Wangshan Sect Master had done, the Sect Master's transgressions seemed trivial.
She would have to find another way.
Even so, Song Wanníng was not frustrated. A glint of amusement flickered in her eyes. Since he had caught the attention of someone as vindictive as herself, he shouldn't dream of sitting comfortably in that position.
"Elder Sister, now that Liu Yao is dead, it seems Liu Yiyi got off scot-free!"
The little golden sword let out a few dissatisfied snorts. That woman Liu Yiyi held deep malice toward its master.
"I overestimated their sibling bond," Song Wanníng said, her tone lazy, her eyes devoid of emotion.
"Liu Yiyi could be so ruthless toward her own brother. I underestimated her."
She had planned to use this opportunity to drag Liu Yiyi down, but no one had expected Liu Yiyi to pull a grand display of righteousness, turning on her own kin. Now the world was singing praises about her sacrifice.
Stepping over her own brother's corpse to climb upward—she wondered if Liu Yiyi ever had nightmares at night.
Song Wanníng had completely seen through Liu Yiyi.
Family, friendship—they meant nothing to that woman. She only ever cared about herself.
"Now she probably blames Liu Yao's death on me. She must be itching to see me dead."
Song Wanníng didn't even need to think it through. She could guess Liu Yiyi's thoughts easily.
"Too shameless. She made the first move, and now she's playing the victim?" the little golden sword huffed angrily, ready to say more, but Song Wanníng raised a hand to stop it.
"Someone's here."
Her brow arched slightly as her spiritual sense spread outward. She sensed two cultivators approaching. They were from the Demon Lord's side—both were Nascent Soul stage. The moment they entered the inn, everyone stood up, reverent and fearful, secretly guessing their purpose.
"Have any of you seen this person?"
A portrait was thrown into the air, revealing none other than Mo Yuan.
"S... seen him!"
"He's upstairs! That man's upstairs!"
Someone quickly pointed toward a room on the second floor.
Song Wanníng had deliberately not masked Mo Yuan's appearance. This was exactly the result she'd planned for.
"Oh?" The two exchanged a look, then headed upstairs at once.
At that moment, Mo Yuan had already sensed something was wrong. But before he could react, Song Wanníng flung open his door and said coldly, "Come with me, now!"
Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed his arm and leapt out the window, dragging him with her as they crashed through the glass.
By the time the two pursuers reached the room, it was already empty. Without hesitation, they gave chase.
Song Wanníng led Mo Yuan toward the outskirts of the city. Her face was cold, her speed pushed to the limit.
Mo Yuan clenched his fists and looked back in anger. Behind them, two dark specks streaked through the air, rapidly closing the distance. He turned back around, frowning as he glanced at Song Wanníng. He hadn't expected her to stay behind and help him.
…
Just as they entered a narrow forest trail, the two demon cultivators caught up, cutting off their escape.
"Trying to run?" one of them sneered.
Mo Yun raised a hand, conjuring a wall of demonic energy that encircled them.
Mo Yu, on the other side, drew a long whip and gave them a mirthless smile.
"So it's Mo Yun and Mo Yu, the twin Demon Lords."
Mo Yuan stared at the identical faces before him, fury boiling in his chest.
These two were twin siblings, not only identical in appearance but in spiritual roots as well. The Demon Palace had taken them in when they were children.
Back then, he was still a child too. His mother had favored these twins deeply, showering them with resources. And yet, the moment his mother died, they betrayed her. Now they were even hunting him down.
Treacherous, heartless bastards.
"Tsk, the young master still remembers us. All the more reason for you to come back with us quietly, save us the trouble of making a mess."
Mo Yun gave a wicked grin and curled a finger toward Mo Yuan, her expression full of calculated charm.
Mo Yu snorted, clearly impatient. "Why waste time talking? Grab him, claim the reward."
The Demon Lord had summoned them from far away just for this. Mo Yu wanted to see what made Mo Yuan so special.
From start to finish, neither of them spared even a glance at Song Wanníng.
The whip and hammer flew toward them. Mo Yun targeted Song Wanníng.
With a sigh of mock frustration, Song Wanníng released Mo Yuan and launched into the fight, clashing head-on with Mo Yun.
Her expression turned serious. The power she unleashed was evenly matched with Mo Yun's. In the blink of an eye, the battle intensified.
Meanwhile, Mo Yuan was forced to face Mo Yu.
Mo Yu swung his massive warhammer, slamming it down hard. Mo Yuan couldn't resist at all—he was blasted into the air.
Mo Yu didn't relent. Another heavy strike followed. Still midair, Mo Yuan vomited blood again and again, his body tumbling like a severed kite.
Crack.
His bones shattered under the next blow. Blood soaked the ground beneath him.
Mo Yuan lay there, completely drained of strength.
Mo Yu approached once more, warhammer in hand.
The Demon Lord had only said to bring him back alive. A cripple still counted as alive, didn't it?
Cruelty flashed through Mo Yu's eyes. The warhammer rose high, ready to come crashing down on Mo Yuan.
If it landed, Mo Yuan's cultivation would be destroyed. He stared up at the weapon, a smirk appearing on his bloodied lips. That bastard was still waiting for him to return, hoping to use him to open the Demon Sea.
Fine. He'd grant that wish, let that bastard see the true wrath of the Demon Sea.
He had already resolved to die with his enemy.
But just as the hammer was about to land, a familiar figure stepped in front of him.
Her back faced the hammer, hand reaching toward him.
Boom—
The hammer slammed into her.
"Urgh—"
Song Wanníng let out a muffled groan. Blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, but her expression remained calm. Using the force of the blow, she grabbed Mo Yuan and took off at lightning speed.
Mo Yuan stared in shock, his mind frozen even as her cold fingers wrapped around his arm.
She…
She didn't abandon him. She came back to save him, at her own risk?
Mo Yuan's instincts immediately told him Song Wanníng must have some ulterior motive. After all, his life had always been surrounded by schemes.