Your Spell Version is Too Low!

"Heh..."

A soft sigh, carrying the weight of eternity and a hint of ineffable ridicule, suddenly echoed across the silent platform.

The ethereal figure of the Taoist, which had previously been as inert as a statue, showing no reaction to Chang Qing’s questions, now slowly "came to life."

Its indistinct face seemed to turn toward Qi Yun, its ethereal and illusory voice sounding as if it came from the far shores of a distant time and space.

"You junior, you are meticulous in your thoughts, and your insight is... not bad."

Faced with this ambiguous praise, Qi Yun just grinned. His tone was as light as if he were discussing the weather, completely at odds with the solemn and bizarre atmosphere.

"It’s nothing. My teacher taught me.

Read more books, read more newspapers, eat fewer snacks, and get more sleep.

So, the knowledge I’ve picked up is just a bit... eclectic."

The ethereal Taoist paid no mind to Qi Yun’s banter, continuing in that hollow, distant voice:

"What you said just now about the cause of that catastrophe was indeed eighty to ninety percent correct.

But on one point, you were wrong.

Utterly and completely wrong."

Its figure seemed to lift slightly, as if reminiscing about a long-buried age of blood and fire, its tone tinged with a complex, inscrutable emotion.

"My Divine Silkworm Sect, though we had some ambition to not be left behind, was fundamentally just a small Sect content in its own corner, dedicated to studying the Alchemy Dao and the secrets of Creation.

How could we have possessed the ability to ’defy the heavens,’ daring to single-handedly explore the path of a treacherous, long-abandoned Ancient Skill?

Hoping to use it to seek transcendence on the Great Dao?"

It paused, its gaze seeming to pierce through Qi Yun to the behemoth he represented, its voice suddenly turning sharp and icy.

"The truth is—it was you, the Wuji Holy Sect!

It was you who personally took the lead back then, uniting all the powers of the Northwest Demon Realm under the pretext of ’needing to rapidly produce a True Monarch to counter the pressure from the Southern Orthodox Dao.’

Using threats and promises, half by force and half by persuasion.

You made my Divine Silkworm Sect...

...walk this treacherous and unpredictable path of the Ancient Skill!"

"It was you! You wanted to use my Sect’s unique understanding of life and Creation, combine it with a Secret Technique from an Ancient Skill, and use the Ancient Skill’s [Creation Technique] along with the Celestial Dao’s merit to create a True Monarch."

These words struck like a thunderclap on a clear day, leaving not only Chang Qing utterly dumbfounded.

Even Qi Yun was taken aback, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes that quickly morphed into understanding.

"So that’s how it is..." Qi Yun muttered, a question in his heart finally answered.

’It always struck me as strange,’ he thought. ’Even if the Divine Silkworm Sect had some strange methods, its scale was obvious. How could it dare to risk universal condemnation and commit such a Forbidden act?’

’It was like a small horse pulling a heavy cart—weren’t they afraid of being dragged into a ditch?’

So, the entire Northwest Demon Realm was behind them.

And the one leading the charge was his very own Holy Sect!

This so-called disaster of the Divine Silkworm Sect was clearly a gamble orchestrated by those in power, filled with utilitarianism and calculation.

The Divine Silkworm Sect was nothing more than the chosen guinea pig.

The ethereal Taoist’s emotions clearly grew agitated. The clear light around its body fluctuated violently, twisting and even faintly revealing a trace of black and red malevolent energy.

"But what happened later?!

Haha... Later, the Southern Orthodox Dao had its own internal problems and had no time to worry about the north!

You decided the risks outweighed the rewards, so you backed out."

"You were no longer willing to bear the potential backlash and unknown dangers of this Ancient Skill’s path, and more importantly, you didn’t want to see the Northwest Demon Realm gain another True Monarch that you couldn’t completely control!

So you ganged up and turned your guns on us.

Using the trumped-up charge of ’touching the Forbidden and endangering the common people,’ you destroyed my Divine Silkworm Sect!"

"You were the ones who pushed us onto this path, and you were the ones who cast us into the abyss of eternal damnation!

All of this is your fault!

You were treacherous!

You burned the bridge after crossing it!"

The Taoist’s voice grew shrill and venomous, filled with a hatred so profound that all the rivers and seas could not wash it away.

It echoed madly across the mist-shrouded platform.

After hearing this bloody, world-shattering secret from a distant past, both Qi Yun and Chang Qing fell into a brief silence.

Objectively speaking, if what the Taoist said was true...

...then the Holy Sect, and indeed the entire Northwest Demon Realm alliance, had acted in an extremely dishonorable way.

They were eager to use people when they needed them, and just as quick to discard them when they didn’t.

To even go so far as to wipe out an entire sect just to eliminate a potential threat was the very definition of ruthless and cruel.

Chang Qing’s expression was particularly conflicted. He was a Holy Sect Disciple, yet he had almost become a "victim" of this distant grudge, making his feelings especially complex.

Qi Yun, however, after a brief silence, regained his former calm, his eyes even holding a trace of detachment that came from seeing through the ways of the world.

He shook his head slightly and muttered under his breath, his voice audible only to himself:

’That may be so... but cultivating the Demon Dao is like bargaining with a tiger, a world of mutual deception.

Getting tricked and deceived is a common occurrence.’

He looked up at the ethereal Taoist figure seething with resentment, his own gaze clear.

"It’s just that the trick the Divine Silkworm Sect fell for... was too big.

So big they gambled the fate of their entire Sect and the lives of all its Disciples.

In the end... they lost everything, with nothing to show for it."

"Therefore, since the Wuji Holy Sect was merciless, you can’t blame this one for being unjust!" the ethereal Taoist’s voice turned sharp and venomous.

"I have withered away in this place for countless years, like a lonely, unwilling soul.

Finally... finally, I’ve waited long enough for two bastards from the Holy Sect!

Today, this one shall seize your bodies and infiltrate the Holy Sect!

In what remains of my life, I will make your Wuji Holy Sect taste the bitterness of having its people perish and its lineage severed!"

As its voice fell, Chang Qing, who had been standing frozen to the side, suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream.

He clutched his head with both hands, his face a mask of agony and struggle.

From the spot between his eyebrows where the golden light had entered earlier, countless fine, brilliant golden threads suddenly burst forth.

These golden threads, like living creatures, spewed madly from his seven orifices and every pore of his body, rapidly winding around and enveloping him.

The threads intertwined and layered, emitting a grating "SHH-SHH" sound, and in an instant, they had wrapped Chang Qing up, refining him alive into a human-shaped cocoon.

Chang Qing’s eyes were filled with despair and unwillingness. He tried to resist.

But the golden threads originated from a core planted within his body; he was powerless to break free.

He could only watch helplessly as his consciousness was enveloped and consumed!

However, at that critical moment—

"CHHHK!"

A soft yet incomparably sharp sound of something slicing through the air drowned out Chang Qing’s screams and the rustling of the golden threads!

Qi Yun moved!

He didn’t hesitate in the slightest, nor did he make any attempt to save Chang Qing.

Instead, he took a single step forward, his aura abruptly turning extremely sharp and violent!

The crimson glow of the Nanming Demon Fire and the jet-black gleam of the Abyssal Iron Sand intertwined in an instant.

A monstrous wave of Demon Fire surged forth.

It painted his entire figure like that of a Demon Deity descending upon the world!

The next instant.

His form blurred as he became the sword, pouring all of his Essence, Qi, and Spirit, along with his vast True Essence, into this single "sword"!

[Nanming Sword Demon—Sword Offering]

A terrifying, black-and-red Sword Aura, condensed to its absolute limit and entwined with destructive Demon Fire and Annihilation Sword Intent, streaked forth like a meteor tearing through the night sky.

In the instant before Chang Qing was completely encased in the cocoon, it slashed through!

Where the Sword Aura passed, time seemed to freeze.

A head—its face frozen in a mask of astonishment, agony, and disbelief—detached from its neck, rolled across the ground a few times, and finally came to a stop.

It was Chang Qing’s head!

The headless body, which had been in the process of being enveloped by the golden threads, stood stiffly in place.

As if having lost their source, the golden threads quickly dimmed and disintegrated. The entire corpse crashed backward, thudding heavily onto the ground.

Qi Yun’s figure solidified behind Chang Qing’s headless corpse. His face was slightly pale from unleashing all his power in an instant, but his eyes were as cold as ancient ice.

He didn’t even glance at the body that had fallen at his feet.

With a casual wave of his hand, he collected Chang Qing’s head, its eyes still wide open, into his Storage Magical Artifact.

A dead silence fell upon the platform.

The ethereal Taoist of the Divine Silkworm Sect seemed not to have expected Qi Yun to be so decisive. Its ethereal voice sounded again, tinged with an inscrutable tone:

"Heh... To think that the disciples of the Wuji Holy Sect today could be so loyal to their Sect.

To kill your own sect brother with your own hands just to prevent him from being used by this one.

That is rather surprising."

Its tone then shifted, filled with absolute control and indifference:

"However, for a mere Qi Refining Realm cultivator like you, killing him only buys yourself a few more moments of life.

Today, you are destined not to leave this place."

But in the face of the Taoist’s declaration, Qi Yun suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

He raised his hand, but not to cast any Magic.

Instead, at the same time he was storing away Chang Qing’s head...

...a strange Blood Jade had appeared in his hand. It was about the size of his palm, simple and ancient in form, crimson through and through, and its surface was as smooth as a mirror.

"A misunderstanding, Senior," Qi Yun said, toying with the Blood Jade in his hand. The corner of his mouth curved into a meaningful smile, his tone as relaxed as if he were chatting with an old friend.

"The truth is, if he hadn’t died, this trip would have been a waste."

He paused, his gaze meeting the ethereal Taoist’s, his eyes suddenly turning sharp.

"Besides, who told you... I was planning to leave?"

In the instant the ethereal Taoist faltered, the smile on Qi Yun’s face widened, and he abruptly crushed the Blood Jade in his hand!

"’They’... are coming!"

CRACK!

The Blood Jade shattered.

In the next instant, an ancient and wizened, yet immeasurably vast and powerful gaze, containing absolute strength, instantly fell upon this place.

...