Chương 292: A Battle Royale

The Green Willow Sect, enraged by their teammate's injury, launched the first coordinated attack. Three disciples moved in perfect synchrony, unfurling long jade whips. The flexible weapons curled through the air like living things, seeking gaps in the Black Palm disciples' defense.

"Severing Willow Dance!" their leader called out, her hands weaving complex patterns that seemed to guide the whips' movements. One whip found its mark, wrapping around a Black Palm disciple's ankle and yanking him off balance. The second struck at eye level, forcing another defender to block with his forearm, which immediately sprouted a line of bleeding welts where the jade barbs connected. The third whip, however, was intercepted by Lu Fang himself, who caught it in his oversized right hand and grinned savagely.

"Black Palm Technique: Reverse Corruption," he growled, sending a pulse of dark energy along the whip's length. The Green Willow disciple screamed as her own weapon turned against her, the corruption energy racing up the jade whip and into her hands. She released the weapon immediately, but not before her fingers had blackened with necrotic energy. She staggered backward, clutching her injured hands to her chest. The Five Elements Sect saw their opportunity and moved next, capitalizing on the distraction.

Their formation shifted, each member glowing with the energy of their respective element—wood, fire, earth, metal, and water.

"Five Elements Convergence Array!" their leader announced, his voice resonating with five distinct tones simultaneously. The elemental energies coalesced into a single beam that lanced toward Lu Fang's position with devastating precision. It was a powerful technique, one that could easily incapacitate or kill even a peak ninth-stage Qi Condensation cultivator if it landed squarely. The Black Palm disciples scrambled to counter, two of them rushing forward to intercept the attack with their own defensive techniques.

The collision of energies created a thunderous explosion that sent shockwaves rippling through the clearing, momentarily destabilizing the spatial fabric around us.

"Anchor now!" I commanded as I felt the spatial fluctuations intensify. Su Yue reacted instantly, deploying one of our spatial anchors. The pyramid-shaped device embedded itself in the ground at our feet, immediately projecting a stabilization field that shielded us from the worst of the distortion. Around the clearing, other teams deployed similar protections, creating pockets of stability amid the churning chaos. The battle escalated rapidly, transforming from isolated skirmishes into a true melee.

Green Willow and Black Palm disciples clashed directly, while the Five Elements team tried to maintain their formation despite increasingly desperate attempts to disrupt it. The Morning Star Sect remained uncommitted, their members watching the chaos with calculating eyes. I observed it all, cataloging strengths, weaknesses, and potential opportunities. The balance of power seemed unstable, with multiple factions preventing any single group from dominating.

If we moved now, we'd just become another target in the melee.

"We need to wait for a clearer opportunity," I decided.

"Let them wear each other down further..." My strategic assessment was interrupted by a blinding flash of light that seared across the clearing, cutting through the chaotic battle like a knife. Lu Fang barely managed to throw up a hasty defense, his corruption energy struggling against the pure, searing radiance that engulfed him. When the light faded, a new figure stood where Lu Fang had been, though Lu Fang himself was now sprawled several meters away, his right arm smoking and his protective circle scattered.

"The arrogance of demonic cultivators never ceases to amaze me," declared the newcomer, a muscular young man with short blonde hair and eyes that glowed with golden light. In his hand, he now held the Moonlit Dew Flower.

"Yun Feng of the Holy Light Sect," Su Yue identified him through gritted teeth. So, this was why the Holy Light Sect had seemed absent; they'd been hiding nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. A classic ambush strategy, and effectively executed.

"I knew it was too good to be true," I muttered, watching as several more Holy Light disciples emerged from concealed positions around the clearing, moving to support their leader. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Yun Feng examined the flower with a satisfied nod before addressing the stunned cultivators around him.

"This sacred treasure will serve a greater purpose with the Holy Light Sect than as a stepping stone for corrupted cultivation methods." Lu Fang struggled to his feet, dark energy roiling around his damaged arm as he glared at Yun Feng with undisguised hatred.

"You light-obsessed fanatics think yourselves so pure," he spat.

"Yet you hide in shadows and strike from behind."

"Strategic positioning is not dishonor when facing those who walk twisted paths," Yun Feng replied calmly. He glanced down at the flower in his hand, frowning slightly when he too discovered it couldn't yet be placed in his storage ring.

"Disciples, maintain formation. The flower requires time." The Holy Light disciples formed a tight circle around their leader, their golden-infused defensive techniques creating an almost solid wall of light. Unlike the Black Palm formation, which had focused on aggressive deterrence, the Holy Light formation was designed purely for protection, each disciple linking their spiritual energy with their neighbors to create a synchronized defense.

"They're good," Azure commented.

"That's a Harmonious Light Barrier. Breaking through directly would be costly." I nodded slowly as I noticed something familiar about Yun Feng, it was the fanatical gleam in his eyes, the righteous set of his jaw, it reminded me uncomfortably of Lightweavers. The parallel was unnerving. Both groups wrapped their violence in the cloak of righteousness, believing their actions justified by some higher purpose.

But while the Lightweavers had the excuse of being driven mad by blue sun radiation, what was Yun Feng's explanation? Simple human arrogance, most likely, the belief that his interpretation of the dao was the only correct path. The battle resumed with renewed intensity, now centered on the Holy Light formation. Five Elements, Green Willow, and Black Palm disciples all redirected their attacks toward this new target, momentarily setting aside their rivalries in the face of a common enemy.

Lu Fang seemed particularly enraged, his corrupted hand now fully engulfed in crimson-black energy as he hurled devastating techniques at the light barrier.

"Return what you stole, light-rat!" he roared, each strike leaving distorted spaces in the air where his corruption energy had eaten away at the valley's natural laws. The Morning Star Sect disciples finally moved, though not toward the battle. Instead, they repositioned themselves to better observe the conflict, their leader making subtle gestures with her hands, mapping fate lines, if I had to guess, looking for the optimal moment to intervene.

"We should follow their example," I suggested to my team.

"Reposition for a better angle, but don't engage yet." We carefully circled around the perimeter of the clearing, maintaining distance from the main conflict while ensuring we had clear sight lines to Yun Feng and the flower. The battle had grown even more chaotic, with techniques misfiring and colliding to create unintended effects, a particular danger in a place like Black Mist Valley, where spatial laws were already fragile.

A fireball from a Five Elements disciple struck a corruption shield, creating a spiraling vortex of flame and shadow that briefly opened a small tear in the valley's fabric. Through that tear, I caught a glimpse of somewhere else, a stark, mountainous landscape under a blood-red sky, before the wound in reality sealed itself.

"Dangerous," Azure commented.

"The valley's stability is deteriorating with each high-energy technique collision."

"Master, look at the Morning Star leader," he continued.

"She's waiting for something specific." I shifted my attention to the star-freckled woman and her team. They remained perfectly still, yet there was a tension in their posture. The woman's eyes were fixed not on Yun Feng or the flower, but on a seemingly empty patch of ground near the spring. Following her gaze, I noticed something odd, a subtle distortion in the air, like heat ripples but more structured. A concealment technique?

But who would be using one when every major faction was already engaged in open combat? I didn't have long to ponder this question. The battle around the Holy Light formation had reached fever pitch, with Lu Fang leading a particularly vicious assault against one section of the barrier. Despite the Holy Light disciples' coordinated defense, cracks began appearing in their formation as the combined pressure from multiple sects took its toll.

Yun Feng remained calm at the center, the flower held carefully in one hand while he directed his disciples with the other. His golden eyes surveyed the battlefield with the confidence of someone who believed victory was assured. That confidence shattered when a voice cut through the cacophony of battle. A single word spoken with such authority that it seemed to compress the very air around it.

"Kneel." I felt my knees buckle slightly before my spiritual resistance kicked in, protecting me from the compulsion. Many others weren't so fortunate. At least a dozen cultivators from various sects dropped to their knees involuntarily, their expressions shocked. A spiritual command technique, and a powerful one. Yun Feng staggered but remained standing, though his face contorted with the effort of resistance. Before he could recover, a blur of white and silver struck him from behind.

The attack was perfectly executed, targeting a vulnerable pressure point at the base of his neck. Yun Feng's grip on the flower loosened as he stumbled forward, and the bloom was plucked from his grasp by elegant fingers adorned with jade rings.

"Yan Zixian," someone gasped. The newcomer's appearance drew immediate attention. Tall and aristocratic, with features that seemed almost sculpted rather than naturally formed, he wore immaculate white robes trimmed with silver that somehow remained pristine despite the chaotic battle surrounding him. His expression conveyed nothing but casual disdain as he examined the flower now in his possession.

"How typical," he murmured.

"The various sect disciples squabbling like peasants over scraps, while forgetting whose territory they stand upon." Of course. Yan Zixian, the personal disciple of City Lord Jiang Tianhong had arrived.