Xiao Qi's cry of grief was drowned out by the even more violent demonic tide's shrieks and the allied forces' chaotic retreat. Aunt Su's figure vanished within the demonic energy's aftermath, along with that final whisper—like merely another instantly-shattered bubble on the battlefield, yet carving an even deeper wound and powerlessness into Xiao Qi's heart.
He struggled to stand from the cracked pit, the Nirvana Crimson Flame Sword planted on the ground. The blade hummed, its radiance somewhat dim. Qi and blood churned like boiling water within him; his organs throbbed with waves of colicky pain—that was the price of hard-blocking the Demon Marshal's furious strike. What hurt more was his heart: watching Aunt Su possibly perish, while the culprit was his father, controlled by the demonic lord, his wisdom completely erased.
"Stabilize the line! Spellcaster, cover each other in alternation! Body cultivators, cover our retreat!" Eldest Senior Brother Mu Qingfeng's voice, steady yet urgent, rang across the battlefield through amplification formations. Commanding from the central camp, sword waving, he issued order after order, attempting to organize effective resistance.
But the demonic army's assault, due to the Demon Marshal Xu Zhan's total eruption, had reached its peak. That pitch-black spear light spanning the battlefield, though barely blocked by Xiao Qi, still shredded the allied forces' already tottering defensive line. Countless low-level demons surged through the breach like a breached flood, maddeningly pouring in and interweaving in close combat with hastily resisting human cultivators and demon beast warriors. Flesh and blood flew; severed limbs and shattered magical artifacts were scattered everywhere, dyeing the land before the Watchtower Bastion dark red.
Xu Zhan himself, like a true god of slaughter, no longer limited himself to tangling with Xiao Qi. He gripped the demonic spear "Soul-Splitter." Each sweep raised vast swathes of pitch-black death ripples. Wherever it passed, whether sturdy spiritual energy shields or protective treasures cultivators summoned, all shattered like paper. Several Golden Core stage elders resisting in formation, along with dozens of disciples behind them, were turned to powder by one spear strike—not even a scream able to escape.
"No good! The first defensive line can't hold! The Demon Marshal is unstoppable. If we keep dragging this out, casualties will only mount!" An old general from the Central State Imperial Court bellowed, his beard and hair bristling. His elite armored soldiers had already lost more than half.
"Retreat! Command all forces, cover each other in alternation, withdraw to the second defensive line, the 'Thorn Wall'!" True Lord Xuanxuan's voice, carrying a trace of exhaustion and resolve, came from the General Headquarters. This elder who had been commanding from the rear clearly saw the front lines' through water mirror.
Woo—woo—woo—
The low, mournful horn sounded across the allied positions—that was the signal to retreat.
Hearing the horn, allied cultivators still in bitter battle, though their eyes held reluctance, showed more relief at surviving catastrophe and urgency to escape certain death. Disciplined units began executing orders. Spellcasters exhausted their remaining spiritual power to release wide-area hindering spells: ice walls, quicksand, tangled vines, attempting to delay the demonic tide's advance. Sword cultivators and body cultivators fought while retreating, forming a moving wall of flesh with their bodies, buying precious time for rear-rank comrades to withdraw.
However, retreat was always more dangerous than offense. Especially before an enemy riding high morale. Demons smelled the scent of prey fleeing. Their assaults grew even more frantic. Cultivators assigned rear-guard duty were constantly swallowed by the demonic tide. Their pre-death spiritual energy self-detonations were like flowers of, flashing and disappearing within the pitch-black demonic energy.
Xiao Qi didn't retreat immediately. He stood in place, the Crimson Flame Sword hanging low, his gaze firmly locked onto that demonic shadow in the distance wantonly slaughtering. Third Senior Sister Liu Yun, drenched in blood, her sword light brilliant as she slashed down several flying demons trying to approach Xiao Qi, landed beside him. She grabbed his arm, saying sharply: "Xiao Qi! Move! That's an order! Would you let Aunt Su's sacrifice be in vain?!"
"Father..." Xiao Qi's throat was dry, his voice hoarse.
"He's the Demon Marshal now! He's not Senior Uncle Xu!" A trace of pain flashed in Liu Yun's eyes, but her tone was resolute. "Do you want to die here, or preserve your useful body and find a way to save him?!"
These words were like a wake-up call. Xiao Qi was sharply shaken. He deeply glanced at that figure wreathed in demonic energy, as if wanting to carve this heartbreaking scene into the depths of his soul. Finally, he gritted his teeth and sharply turned: "We're leaving!"
He hesitated no more. The Nirvana Crimson Flame Sword slashed blazing sword aura, clearing a swath of demons ahead. Then, together with Third Senior Sister, he transformed into two streams of light, merging into the torrent of retreating forces.
A hundred li distance was not far for cultivators, yet on this path of rout, it seemed endlessly long and bloody. When the surviving allied cultivators finally saw that majestic, winding "Thorn Wall," flickering with countless rune lights, coiled upon the earth like a giant serpent, many nearly collapsed, falling to the ground.
The Thorn Wall, as the second defensive line, was far more sturdy than the Watchtower Bastion. The walls were constructed from giant bricks mixed with star sand and vajra rock, a hundred zhang tall, inscribed with countless defensive and counterattack runes. Countless spiritual energy turrets and demon-slaying crossbows were mounted atop the walls. Energy light curtains interwove before the city wall, forming multiple layers of protection.
Routed soldiers surged like a tide into the temporary safe passage behind the wall, everyone wounded, spirits withered, eyes retaining fear and lingering horror. The originally high-morale allied force, after this defeat, was like having ice water dumped on them.
Xiao Qi landed atop the wall. Medical cultivators immediately rushed to treat his wounds. He pushed away the pills being offered, his gaze sweeping below the wall. The demonic tide had stopped about ten li from the Thorn Wall—vast and dark, demonic energy blocking out the sun. That terrifying Demon Marshal figure stood at the front of the demonic tide, his crimson cloak snapping in the demonic wind, hollow gaze gazing toward the wall as if surveying his next hunting ground.
"Count casualties, reinforce defenses, treat the wounded!" Eldest Senior Brother Mu Qingfeng's voice remained steady, yet a permanent gloom hung between his brows. He walked to Xiao Qi's side, patted his shoulder, saying nothing—everything unspoken between them.
Soon, preliminary casualty statistics were delivered to the temporary command center. Looking at the startling numbers on the jade slip, every senior official present—including several demon beast powerhouses and aquatic elders—had extremely grim expressions.
The first defensive line: allied forces lost over thirty percent! Seven Nascent Soul cultivators had perished; Golden Core and Foundation Establishment cultivators numbered in the thousands! This excluded the large number critically wounded and combat-ineffective. Their gains: merely eliminating vast numbers of low-level demons. Against the Demon Marshal Xu Zhan, almost no substantive damage had been inflicted.
"The Demon Marshal's strength far exceeds estimates. Especially after complete demonic transformation, he may have approached the Spirit Transformation threshold. Fighting head-on, we can't afford the losses." An elder with white beard and hair spoke heavily, his voice carrying powerlessness.
"The key issue is we can't bring ourselves to strike Senior Xu... the Demon Marshal with lethal intent." Another elder added, his gaze complex as it swept over the silent Tang Xiao Qi. Everyone knew Xu Zhan's relationship with Xiao Qi—this had become one of the allied forces' biggest constraints.
"We must adjust strategy." True Lord Xuanxuan slowly spoke, breaking the heavy atmosphere. "Though the Thorn Wall is sturdy, if the Demon Marshal continues fierce assaults, its fall is only a matter of time. We cannot place all hope on defense."
"What does the Temple Master suggest?" A whale elder from the aquatic forces spoke, voice like thunder.
True Lord Xuanxuan's gaze swept across everyone, finally landing on Xiao Qi: "Xiao Qi, fighting the Demon Marshal, how did it feel? Setting aside... emotional factors, did you discover any weaknesses? Or traces of the demonic lord's control?"
Xiao Qi took a deep breath, forced himself to calm, recalling every detail of his exchanges with his father. He pondered briefly, then said: "Father... the Demon Marshal's power comes from the demonic lord's, endless and inexhaustible. His flesh was also reinforced by demonic armor, nearly flawless. But when Aunt Su called out, he truly had a momentary stagnation... though brief."
He raised his head; light reignited in his eyes: "The demonic lord's control isn't flawless! Father's soul may not be completely annihilated—merely suppressed, imprisoned!"
Upon hearing this, everyone in the command center felt their spirits lift slightly.
"If we can awaken Senior Xu's own consciousness, attacking from both outside and within, perhaps we can break the situation!" Eldest Senior Brother Mu Qingfeng immediately grasped the key point.
"Easier said than done." Third Senior Sister Liu Yun poured cold water. "Aunt Su's life as the price only bought a single instant. Ordinary methods simply won't work."
"Maybe... there is a method." Xiao Qi gripped his fists, feeling within him that World-Purifying Green Lotus phantom image intertwined with his life force. "The Green Lotus source is supreme purification power. Perhaps it can penetrate the demonic armor, directly acting on Father's soul..."
"But this requires an opportunity." The Temple Master said heavily. "Someone must tie down the Demon Marshal, creating a window for you to approach and purification. And the risk is enormous. Once you fail..."
"I'm willing to try!" Xiao Qi didn't hesitate. "This is currently the only hope!"
The command center fell into brief silence. Everyone understood this might be the key to breaking the deadlock, but it might also cost them their last hope—Tang Xiao Qi himself.
"Agreed!" After a long moment, True Lord Xuanxuan heavily slapped the table. "Strategic adjustment! Abandon decisive battle with the demonic army. Rely on the Thorn Wall for elastic defense, delay, exhaust the demons' effective forces."
His gaze sharpened: "At the same time, organize a special operations team composed of top experts, commanded by True Lord Tang Xiaoqi, to find battle opportunities and execute the 'Awakening' plan! All alliance resources, prioritize the operations team!"
"Everyone," the Temple Master surveyed the room, his voice grave, "initial defeat, morale damaged—this is normal in war. But the demonic plague isn't yet vanquished; the three realms' survival hangs by a thread. We have no retreat left. Only by uniting as one can we have a chance!"
The new strategy was rapidly communicated. Allied forces began reinforcing positions around the Thorn Wall. Though morale was low, the instinct for survival and responsibility on their shoulders made surviving cultivators grip their weapons once more.
Tang Xiaoqi stood atop the wall, gazing toward that figure in the demonic energy's heart in the distance. His eyes no longer confused—only resolve remained.
"Father, wait for me... I will definitely save you back!"