The extreme speed brought by burning essence blood in the Green Kite Shuttle stretched mountains and rivers into blurred streaks of color, hurtling backward in a flash. The violent jolting and pressure from the high speed made the unconscious Xiao Qi furrow his brow involuntarily, dark red blood mixed with organ fragments seeping from the corner of his mouth. Zhao Tiezhu held him tightly in his arms, using his own body as a cushion. His toxin-eroded, badly wounded massive frame was also under tremendous strain, but he clenched his teeth, his tigerish eyes fixed dead ahead, not daring to relax for a moment.
Time lost meaning in this desperate flight. Every breath was like dancing on the edge of a blade, carrying their heavy lives and the unknown fate of their companions behind them.
No one knew how long had passed. When the sun began to tilt westward, dyeing the clouds on the horizon a mournful orange-red, the familiar mountain range—regarded by generations of Qingxu Temple disciples as home and holy land—finally became faintly visible on the distant horizon.
But the scene that met their eyes made Zhao Tiezhu's pupils contract sharply, his blood seemingly freezing in an instant!
Gone were the usual misty veils, the harmonious cries of cranes, the morning bells and evening drums, the peace and serenity.
In their place were billowing black smoke rising to the heavens! A blazing fire that reddened half the sky! And a thick, churning, unbreakable mass of pitch-black demonic energy firmly shrouding Qingxu Temple's main peak and its surrounding mountains!
That demonic energy was like a living thing, constantly assaulting and corroding the mountain-protecting formation that sustained Qingxu Temple—the Qingxu Mysterious Light Shield. The shield, which should have been crystal clear and inscribed with profound runes, now flickered erratically. Its light had dimmed to the extreme, its surface covered with web-like cracks, like a giant glass bowl on the verge of shattering, barely holding on and blocking most of the demonic energy and attacks from outside. Yet anyone could see that this great formation, which had protected Qingxu Temple for a thousand years, was at the end of its strength, on the verge of complete collapse at any moment.
Outside the light shield, the sky was densely packed with demonic cultivators wearing Shadow Snake Pavilion attire, floating in midair. Some rode flying mounts like skeletal dragons and demonic bats; others stood on black clouds. Like a sky-darkening swarm of locusts, they continuously released all kinds of shadowy thunder, poisonous fire, and defiled magical artifacts, pouring them down like a torrential rain onto the mountain-protecting formation, creating violent ripples and explosive flashes.
On the ground, countless low-level demonic beasts and demon beasts corrupted and controlled by demonic energy surged like a tide against the formation's foundation. Fearing neither death, they used their claws, fangs, and even self-detonation to wildly consume the formation's energy.
The sounds of battle cries, explosions, demonic beast roars, and spell collisions… even from such a great distance, they faintly carried over, converging into a symphony of war that shook the heart and mind, assaulting Zhao Tiezhu's ears and spirit.
Flames of war reached the heavens! Demonic flames blotted out the sky!
The main force of the Shadow Snake Pavilion had indeed launched an all-out assault on Qingxu Temple during the time they were away! And judging by this display, the ferocity of the attack and the scale of the forces committed were far beyond imagination! Madam Su's warning had turned out to be chillingly prophetic.
"The sect…!" Zhao Tiezhu let out a low growl like a wounded beast, his eyes nearly splitting. He saw the building representing the Technique Transmission Pavilion on the main peak engulfed in flames. He saw the flag of Qingxu Temple snap and fall on a side peak, consumed by demonic energy. He saw the light shield of the mountain-protecting formation growing dimmer and more cracked with each concentrated attack, like a candle flickering in the wind.
Their home was being destroyed; fellow disciples were fighting bloody battles. And they themselves had nearly been trapped in the Black Wind Mountains by a so-called "decoy," almost unable to return.
A wave of emotion—boiling rage, boundless worry, and deep helplessness—erupted like a volcano in his chest. He wished he could charge into the battlefield immediately and fight those demon whelps to the death!
But reason told him he could not. On his back he still carried Xiao Qi—the hope of Qingxu Temple's future, the "Source Seed" the Shadow Snake Pavilion had schemed so carefully to obtain. And in their current condition, charging in rashly would be like moths flying into a flame.
He had to find a way into the great formation! He had to bring back the intelligence from the Black Wind Mountains and the news of Second Senior Brother's possible sacrifice! He had to get Xiao Qi treated!
Zhao Tiezhu forced himself to calm down. His bloodshot eyes swept across the battlefield, searching for possible weak points or familiar extraction routes. He noticed that although the mountain-protecting formation was overall in peril, in some remote areas not under the main direction of attack, the light was relatively stable, and the demonic cultivator presence was thinner.
He maneuvered the Green Kite Shuttle, forcibly suppressing the unstable遁光 that was about to fade as the essence blood burned out, and made a wide detour, trying to approach from a secluded area near a cliff at the back mountain of Qingxu Temple, a place seldom visited. There was a little-known path there that led directly to the inner disciple area, where defensive forces might be weaker.
The Green Kite Shuttle's light grew dimmer, its speed slowing, like a bird exhausting its strength, wobbling as it fell toward that area.
The closer they got, the more they could feel the ferocity of the battlefield. The air was thick with the stench of blood and scorched flesh, mixed with the cold, corrosive sensation unique to demonic energy. In the forests and mountains below, traces of battle were everywhere—broken weapons, charred earth, and… the unretrieved remains of fellow disciples.
Zhao Tiezhu's heart was bleeding.
Just as the Green Kite Shuttle was about to reach the cliff at the back mountain, seemingly about to pass through a relatively thin layer of the formation's light shield—
*Ssssk! Ssssk! Ssssk!*
Several pitch-black bone spears, wrapped in a mournful ghostly howl, shot violently from the dense forest below, precisely targeting the faltering Green Kite Shuttle! Clearly, the Shadow Snake Pavilion's encirclement was extremely tight—they had even set ambushes in such remote corners!
Zhao Tiezhu's expression changed dramatically. The Green Kite Shuttle was nearly out of power, and he himself was severely wounded. Complete evasion was impossible!
With a roar, he abruptly pushed the unconscious Xiao Qi in his arms hard toward the cliff, while forcibly twisting his own body to take the fatal bone spears on his back!
*Thud, thud, thud!*
The bone spears sank deep into his already mangled back. The pain blackened his vision, and he nearly fainted on the spot. But with tenacious willpower, using the impact to accelerate his fall toward the bottom of the cliff, he shouted with the last of his strength:
"Zhao Tiezhu and Tang Xiaoqi of Qingxu Temple are returning to the sect! Open the formation gate now!!!"
His voice, like a dying roar, echoed among the cliffs.
Perhaps hearing his shout, perhaps detecting the anomaly, the relatively stable light shield at that spot suddenly rippled faintly. A tiny gap, just wide enough for one person, painfully split open like a wound.
Seeing the gap, a glimmer of hope flashed in Zhao Tiezhu's eyes. Using the last of his strength, he sent Xiao Qi, whom he had pushed forward, flying toward that gap!
But he himself, due to his severe injuries and exhausted strength, fell like a meteor into the misty abyss below the cliff, powerless, plummeting downward…