Chương 120: Chapter 9: The Outbreak of War

A cacophony of whistling air tore through the silence as hundreds of streaks of light descended from the distant horizon. Leading the vanguard were two Daoists clad in regal purple robes, their brows bound by Purple-Gold Circlets. Their expressions were masks of cold, unyielding fury. As they advanced, the sheer volume of spiritual power surging within their bodies caused the clouds for hundreds of meters around them to churn and roil in a violent, chaotic dance.

These were the cultivators of the Xuanxiao Sect, spearheaded by none other than Qingxiaozi and Dan Chenzi. Perched atop an ancient tree, the loud-mouthed man from before felt a flicker of strange light cross his eyes, though he quickly suppressed it. He began muttering under his breath, his voice so low and raspy that his words were lost to the wind.

"Tiandaozi! Your seven-day deadline has expired!" Qingxiaozi's voice thundered, his white hair whipping wildly in the wind. His luxurious purple robes snapped like a banner in a gale. As his True Essence billowed, layers of invisible, suffocating killing intent erupted from him, instantly shredding the white clouds above into tattered wisps.

"Deliver my disciple, Reyn, at once! Fail to do so, and I will ensure the Qingyan Sect is erased from the map of North Yue State this very day, no matter the cost!" Beneath them, at the gates of the Qingyan Sect, the Great Sect-Protecting Array had already been activated. Countless disciples stood at their posts, their faces grim but devoid of true fear. Instead, many were rubbing their palms together, their eyes burning with a combative spirit.

In their minds, their sect possessed two Golden Core experts and the formidable protection of the mountain array. To them, the Xuanxiao Sect's aggression was nothing short of suicidal—a display of peak stupidity. Tiandaozi appeared, looking every bit the transcendent sage with his youthful face and snowy hair. He wore a Seven-Star Daoist Robe that fluttered elegantly in the breeze. Hearing the ultimatum, he barely lifted his eyelids, speaking in a tone as flat as still water.

"I have said it before: Reyn is not within the walls of my Qingyan Sect. If Daoist Qingxiaozi refuses to believe me, there is nothing more I can do."

"Not within your sect?" Dan Chenzi let out a series of cold, mocking laughs.

"My disciple had a long-standing grudge with that old ghost Ming Diao—a fact known to everyone who attended the Ancestor's Ascension Ceremony. On his way home, Reyn was intercepted and hunted by a Golden Core cultivator. If it wasn't that old dog Ming Diao who struck, then who else could it have been?"

"Fellow Daoist, do not hurl such baseless accusations. You claim my Junior Brother Ming Diao is responsible, but where is your proof?" Tiandaozi's expression remained lukewarm, but his tone shifted subtly.

"Or perhaps the Xuanxiao Sect has grown so powerful that you now harbor the ambition to unify the cultivation world of North Yue State? Do you seek to become the sole orthodox power in this land?" As Tiandaozi's words fell, the faces of the many rogue cultivators who had gathered to watch the spectacle changed instantly. Though they suspected the Qingyan Sect was intentionally stirring the pot, the looks they cast toward the Xuanxiao Sect became tinged with wariness.

They were happy to watch two great sects bleed each other dry, but if the Xuanxiao Sect truly intended to subjugate the entire region, they would all be dragged into the fire. That was a prospect none of them relished.

"Pure nonsense!" Qingxiaozi's face darkened like a thundercloud as he let out a frigid shout.

"My Xuanxiao Sect has always kept to its own affairs. Even after Junior Brother Dan Chenzi successfully reached the Golden Core stage, we never imposed excessive demands on any sect, nor do we harbor any desire for hegemony. It is you, Sect Master Tiandaozi, who continues to deflect. If this was not the work of Daoist Ming Diao, then call him out here so we may settle this face-to-face!" This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"Junior Brother Ming Diao had a sudden epiphany two days ago and is currently in secluded meditation," Tiandaozi replied impassively.

"On the day he emerges, I will personally escort him to the Xuanxiao Sect to give you a satisfactory answer." Internally, Tiandaozi was deeply unsettled. Logically, since Ming Diao had been slain, Reyn should have returned safely. This suggested that Qingxiaozi was simply using the disappearance as a pretext to launch a pre-emptive strike to eliminate the Qingyan Sect. Yet, looking at Qingxiaozi's face, the man's fury didn't seem feigned. Could it be that Reyn truly hasn't returned?

Or did a third party intervene to capture him, hoping to play the fisherman while the snipe and the clam fight? Tiandaozi shook his head slowly. The situation was a murky labyrinth, but he couldn't afford to overthink it now. His priority was surviving the impending storm.

"Hmph! Since you refuse to hand him over, then war it is!" Cold light exploded in Qingxiaozi's eyes. He threw his hand out in a sharp command. Behind him, thirty Guardian Elders each led ten disciples, surging forward to form a complex offensive battle array. They linked together in groups of ten, poised to strike at a moment's notice. Qingxiaozi, Dan Chenzi, and Tiandaozi locked eyes across the void.

The overwhelming auras of three Golden Core cultivators collided, causing the heavens to pale and dark, heavy clouds to manifest out of thin air.

"Strike!" Qingxiaozi roared. He slapped his forehead, summoning a magic treasure shaped like a Vulture-Beak Spike, several feet in length. The moment it left his hand, it expanded against the wind, swelling until it was dozens of feet long. Carrying an unstoppable momentum, it crashed down toward the Qingyan Sect's protective array like a falling mountain. Dan Chenzi let out a cold snort and sacrificed an Alchemical Cauldron Treasure.

The moment the vessel appeared, a wave of scorching heat erupted from it, causing the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere to skyrocket instantly.

"Go!" With a point of his finger, the cauldron began to spin violently. Its lid flew open, and a torrent of brilliant, bone-white flames spewed forth, surging downward like a predatory dragon. The combined assault of two Golden Core experts was nothing short of cataclysmic. The spiritual energy within a hundred-mile radius fluctuated violently, creating a terrifying pressure. Among the spectators, the few Foundation Establishment cultivators turned pale but managed to hold their ground.

The Qi Condensation cultivators, however, were forced back repeatedly, their breathing ragged and their eyes filled with sheer terror.

"Hmph!" Inside the array, Tiandaozi snorted. A flash of light enveloped him as he flew out from the barrier. He tossed his hands upward, launching two magic treasures to intercept the incoming attacks. The first was an Obsidian Short Sword, less than two feet long, yet it radiated a sharpness so piercing that it could be felt from hundreds of feet away. The second was a peculiar Great Tortoise Shell Artifact. As his mana poured into it, the shell expanded until it was thirty feet wide.

As it spun, layers of shimmering blue light rippled across its surface, accompanied by the faint, rhythmic sound of crashing ocean waves. Boom! Boom! Boom! The treasures collided with earth-shattering force. For any cultivator below the Golden Core stage, even a stray spark from this clash would result in a grievous injury. Seeing the three titans engage, the Foundation Establishment cultivators who had previously tried to remain calm turned tail and fled.

Watching a good show was one thing, but losing one's life for it was a fool's bargain. The bald old man retreated hastily, glancing back to find the loud-mouthed man missing. His brow furrowed.

"That blockhead... if he gets caught in the crossfire, he'll need more than luck to survive," he muttered before turning to follow the fleeing crowd. In a radius of several hundred feet around the Golden Core battlefield, no one dared to linger. Violent ripples of residual mana lashed out like invisible, razor-sharp blades, chilling the hearts of all who felt them. On the ground, the Xuanxiao Sect disciples maintained their battle arrays.

Leveraging their collective power, they unleashed massive arcs of sword-qi, each thirty feet long, which slammed relentlessly against the Qingyan Sect's shimmering barrier.