Your Spell Version is Too Low!

Du Yunian’s eyes were glazed as he staggered toward the equally befuddled Shen Fan.

Meanwhile, Shen Fan, his face flushed and his breathing ragged, uncontrollably shuffled toward the "Qi Yun" who stood there, seemingly defenseless.

The distance between the three of them was shrinking.

To the side, the spark of excitement and cruel amusement in Ling Jiao’er’s eyes grew brighter and hotter.

It was as if she could already picture the lewd scene to come—a scene she eagerly awaited.

The very instant Shen Fan reached out and grabbed Qi Yun’s shoulder...

POOF—

The body dissolved into a wisp of smoke.

"An Illusion Body?!" Ling Jiao’er’s smug smile froze, replaced by shock.

Sensing danger, the Hehuan Palace demoness flickered. A pink radiance swirled around her as she prepared to cast the Illusionary Body Concealment Technique, a secret art of her palace, to flee.

"Hehuan Palace. You think you can mess with my Holy Sect?"

A cold sneer sounded from behind her.

The real Qi Yun stepped out of the void, his form solidifying. With a wave of his wide sleeve, the Abyssal Iron Sand lying in ambush around them instantly surged.

Countless menacing black hands made of Sand Iron materialized from nothing, crashing down like the walls of a cage snapping shut.

They completely sealed off all her escape routes!

Dazzling Hundred Blossoms!

Her enchanting eyes blinked. Ling Jiao’er glanced at the descending hands of Sand Iron, and her body suddenly burst into countless swirling petals. A rich, intoxicating floral fragrance drifted out, spreading in all directions.

"Qi Yun..."

"Shen Fan..."

Just then, Shen Fan and Du Yunian, their minds clouded by the Hehuan Secret Technique, caught up. Rolling his eyes, Qi Yun transformed the Iron Sand into two large vats.

With a CLANG, he trapped the two of them inside.

Ling Jiao’er immediately seized the opportunity created by this momentary delay.

Her wrist flicked and her delicate fingers danced as she murmured a Spell.

Instantly, without any warning, great swathes of pinkish-white mist surged up in a radius of several dozen feet around Qi Yun, spreading rapidly and completely obscuring his vision.

Within the mist, faint, blush-inducing moans coiled around his ears.

Slender, alluring figures, half-hidden and half-seen, swayed and danced within the fog.

In an instant, Qi Yun felt as if he were being enveloped by layer after layer of warmth, softness, and fragrance—an embrace of soul-stealing, bone-melting pleasure.

His vision filled with swaying pale skin and graceful curves, as if he had fallen into Paradise, enough to make any man lose his composure and drown in a sea of desire.

"So much for a Holy Sect Disciple. He’s nothing special..."

Her form materialized once more. Looking at Qi Yun, who was seemingly bewitched by the Hehuan Secret Technique, Ling Jiao’er smiled sweetly and shook her head. Then, a cold glint flashed in her eyes. The tip of her index finger suddenly sharpened, glowing a vivid pink as she thrust it toward Qi Yun’s heart.

’As long as he’s pierced by my Desire for Beauty,’

’he’ll be my slave forever.’

’Hmm~ Then again, this young man is quite handsome and heroic~’

’After I have him under my control, perhaps I’ll have a little taste first...’

As these lustful thoughts flashed through her mind, Ling Jiao’er unconsciously licked her moist, luscious red lips.

With her movement, the gauze robe she wore—already as thin as a cicada’s wing—slipped down a little further, revealing more of her alluring, snow-white skin.

But just as she closed in on Qi Yun...

A burst of hair-raising, cackling laughter suddenly erupted.

Dozens of White Bone Skeleton heads, burning with a ghastly green Yin Fire and with Soul Fire dancing in their sockets, burst madly from the void around Qi Yun, like demons lunging from the Hell Abyss.

They formed a terrifying wall of bone, brutally blocking Ling Jiao’er’s path!

"This is... the Skull Curse? Why are there so many?" Ling Jiao’er looked astonished, staring at the overwhelming and terrifying tide of White Bone Skeleton heads before her.

She had once dual-cultivated with a Holy Sect Disciple.

He had also practiced the Skull Curse.

But compared to this, the difference was like that between the heavens and the earth!

"To think you can stop me with just a few skulls. You really underestimate me," Ling Jiao’er said with a smile, covering her mouth after her brief surprise.

"How much spiritual nature can an uncontrolled Magic have?"

Her figure became erratic once more as she rushed forward like a butterfly flitting through flowers.

Her slender fingers jabbed out repeatedly, creating streaks of mind-bewitching pink Flowing Light.

She chanted an increasingly rapid and strange Spell, attempting to use secret Hehuan Palace Magic like Enchanting Maiden Bewitching Deity and Hundred Desires Entwined to disrupt the flow of Spiritual Power within the White Bone Skeleton heads.

She had to tear open this suffocating defensive perimeter.

However, after countless upgrades, the power of the Skull Curse was a far cry from what it used to be!

The twenty-seven White Bone Skeleton heads seemed to form a perfect offensive and defensive matrix. They cackled, responding to one another, their spinning and flying movements perfectly coordinated.

No matter how exquisite Ling Jiao’er’s Body Skill was or how fierce her attacks, her repeated assaults were all forcefully repelled by the impenetrable, Evil Qi-filled tide of skulls.

She couldn’t even touch the hem of Qi Yun’s robes.

On the contrary, she was nearly grazed by the Corpse Poisoning Yin Fire spat by a few cunningly placed skulls, scorching a patch of her skirt black and leaving her in a rather sorry state.

Meanwhile, Qi Yun, supposedly lost in the illusionary sea of desire, looked around thoughtfully. He then grinned, casually pulled a graceful illusion wrapped around him closer, and gave it a squeeze.

"Tsk, feels pretty good." He nodded in satisfaction as the smile on his face gradually vanished.

The next instant!

He slammed his palms together in front of his chest!

BOOM!!!

Streaks of demonic, terrifying, purplish-red Nanming Demon Fire erupted from between his clasped palms and out of every pore on his body, like savage beasts breaking their chains.

"AAAH—!!!"

The moment the alluring figures—illusions that were wrapping around Qi Yun, doing their utmost to seduce him—came into contact with this incomparably vicious Demon Fire, which specialized in destroying all illusions and evils, they shrieked in terror as if they had met their nemesis.

Their perfect bodies quickly blurred and distorted under the Demon Fire’s flames, melting and dissipating like wax figures!

The thick pink mist, the seductive moans in his ears, the endless spring scenery before his eyes...

In the face of the tyrannical Nanming Demon Fire, it all melted away in an instant like ice in the sun.

The vast sea of desire shattered in an instant!

His dazed eyes regained their clarity. Looking at Ling Jiao’er, who was held back by the wall of White Bone Skeletons, Qi Yun chuckled.

"Hehuan Palace. Is that all you’ve got?"

Before he had even finished speaking, the long-poised Abyssal Iron Sand and the twenty-seven cackling White Bone Skeleton heads surged forward, pouncing on Ling Jiao’er like an overwhelming tide.

Ling Jiao’er’s expression darkened. Sensing an unprecedented mortal threat, she desperately circulated the last of her True Qi. With a flick of her slender hand, she summoned a cloth Magical Treasure—a kerchief embroidered with mandarin ducks, which emitted a rosy pink glow.

The cloth grew in the wind, instantly transforming into a flexible curtain of light that shielded her. Its rosy glow swirled, attempting to block the terrifying pincer attack.

However, under the dual assault of the Abyssal Iron Sand’s peerless weight and the White Bone Skeleton heads’ relentless barrage of corrosive Yin Fire and mad gnawing...

the seemingly extraordinary cloth Magical Treasure lasted for less than three breaths before letting out a mournful cry, unable to bear the strain.

The pink glow flowing across its surface rapidly dimmed and began to flicker erratically.

CRACK—!

With a crisp sound like silk being torn...

the last trace of Spiritual Light on the cloth shattered, and it fluttered limply to the ground.

Having lost its final barrier, the Abyssal Iron Sand, now an unobstructed black tide of fury, descended upon Ling Jiao’er with the terrifying power to crush everything in its path!

The fierce wind lifted the dark hair from her forehead. Pale-faced, Ling Jiao’er’s expression was one of utter despair.

But just as the beauty was about to meet her end and be turned into a meat paste...

a long, white-cloth banner, seemingly old and plain yet radiating a strange Yin Qi, shot out from the side without warning, positioning itself with perfect precision between Ling Jiao’er and the Iron Sand.

The banner’s surface billowed without a wind, and on it, countless faces seemed to struggle in agony, letting out silent screams.

Immediately after, a billowing, ink-black, bone-chillingly cold miasma surged from the banner’s surface like a bursting dam, viscous and resilient.

The two forces collided violently, producing a deep, muffled boom like rolling thunder.

A violent shockwave erupted from the point of impact!

The black miasma surging from the banner actually managed to hold back the tide of Abyssal Iron Sand, a force strong enough to crush solid rock.

The killing blow had been narrowly blocked by the sudden appearance of the white-cloth banner.

A tall, thin figure slowly retracted the banner and stood silently before Ling Jiao’er, their gaze deep and unreadable from beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

"A hero saving the damsel in distress?"

Qi Yun raised an eyebrow, looking at the tall, thin man who had saved Ling Jiao’er’s life.

’Brother, when you do that, it makes me look like the bad guy.’

"Heh heh, how could Your Excellency be so heartless as to strike down such a fine beauty?" Holding the Soul-Gathering Banner, Zhao Wuji chuckled, a dark light swirling in his eyes.

’Iron Sand... skulls...’

’So this is the one who killed more than thirty of my sect brothers?’

Recognizing Qi Yun’s methods, Zhao Wuji stepped forward slowly.

The Soul-Gathering Banner in his hand stirred without a wind. Wisps of pure black miasma streamed from its surface like living things, silently coiling around and merging into his body.

The aura he radiated grew visibly colder and more immense.

"Furthermore," Zhao Wuji said, "you killed more than thirty people from my Yellow Springs Netherworld. I’ve come to settle that score with you."

"Qi Refining Fifth Layer, Magical Artifact in hand... you think you’ve already won?" A red light flashed in Qi Yun’s eyes as he watched Zhao Wuji, whose aura was swelling as he locked on to him.

The next instant!

He stomped a heavy foot forward!

A towering column of purplish-red Demon Fire, like a long-suppressed volcano, erupted from his body and shot toward the sky!

In the blink of an eye, it transformed him into a tyrannical, humanoid figure of Demon Fire over ten feet tall!

A tyrannical, ferocious aura rolled out in tangible waves of pressure, scorching the ground until it cracked and split.

From within the Demon Fire, a pair of brilliant eyes looked down upon Zhao Wuji, who had frozen in place. A wild, arrogant grin spread across Qi Yun’s face.

"You were saying you came to settle a score?"

...