Chương 56: Poisoned

"Not good!" An alarmed cry tore through the air, but it was too late. The insidious pink fragrance, thick and cloying like overripe lilies, proved utterly indifferent to the barrier of spiritual energy. It drifted through the shimmering shield as if it were mere smoke, seeping directly into Li Xiumei's pores. A tumultuous cocktail of sensations—acidic, numbing, itching, crisp, and debilitatingly soft—instantly surged through her meridians.

It was a sensory assault she had never encountered in all her years of cultivation. Her porcelain skin flushed a deep, feverish crimson, and a thick mist of moisture clouded her pupils. The spiritual fluctuations within her body became a chaotic tide, rising and falling with such instability that her very silhouette began to stagger and sway in mid-air.

"The Bead of Indulgence! To think this man possessed such a wicked treasure!" Within the caravan, the elder's eyes ignited with a sudden, predatory fervor.

"Strike now! With that bead in play, the Little Witch is as good as dead!" The Bead of Indulgence was a supreme relic of the Lust Sect, one of the eight Great Demonic Sects. Crafted specifically to subvert cultivators, its toxin was a nightmare of the soul. Once the poison took hold, a cultivator's prowess would be halved, replaced by a torrential flood of carnal desires and primal urges.

If one's willpower faltered and the mind was consumed by the lustful haze, the consequences were dire: at best, one's Primordial Yin or Yang would be shattered; at worst, they would fall into the Demonic Path of Desire, burning through their very life essence until they withered into a husk.

"This Little Witch practices the Jade Maiden Pure Heart Art," Xuan Liao shouted, his voice thick with greed.

"If her Primordial Yin is broken before she reaches the Nascent Soul stage, not only will her foundation be crippled, but the man who takes it will absorb eighty percent of her accumulated essence! If I can claim her, my longevity will extend by at least thirty years, and my chances of reaching the Golden Core Realm will soar to sixty percent!" With a roar of "Move!", a powerful surge of spiritual energy erupted from Xuan Liao. He transformed into a streak of light, lunging toward the reeling Li Xiumei.

Behind him, Wang Zihan no longer bothered to hide his strength; he, too, was an Early Foundation Establishment cultivator, his aura flaring as he trailed closely behind the elder. Several others followed in their wake, their varying levels of spiritual pressure weaving into a net of impending doom. Roar! The giant flood dragon, a manifestation of Li Xiumei's top-grade spirit tool, had just finished shredding the Great Enshrinement into a rain of gore.

However, as the poison took hold, the dragon's scales flickered and dimmed. With a mournful wail, the majestic beast shrank rapidly, reverting to its original form within seconds. Li Xiumei's cultivation had been suppressed to the equivalent of the 7th level of Qi Condensation—nowhere near enough to sustain the manifestation of such a high-level artifact.

"Little Witch! Your Myriad Extinction Demon Sect slaughtered hundreds of my kinsmen in the Breeze Sect years ago! Today, I shall have your head as payment for that blood debt!" Xuan Liao bellowed. Despite his righteous fury, his eyes betrayed a deep-seated caution. He halted his flight a dozen yards away, his hands blurring as he cast a series of complex mudras. As a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator, Xuan Liao's full power was formidable.

Even his casual spells carried a crushing weight that distorted the air around him. Li Xiumei's face grew even paler. She had never heard of the 'Breeze Sect,' but she knew her father had wiped out countless minor sects over the decades. This was a vendetta she could not escape. In her prime, she would have laughed at a mere Late Foundation Establishment opponent, shielded by her array of top-grade treasures. But now, her limbs felt like lead, and her mind was a fog of rising heat.

The thought of falling into the hands of these men made her blood run cold. How do they know who I am? I used the Great Art of Transfiguration... There was no time for questions. Several streaks of lethal spiritual energy were already whistling toward her. Gritting her teeth, she forced a sliver of her remaining Qi into her folding fan and hurled it forward. The fan twisted in mid-air, transforming into a pitch-black beast. It was a Black Kong—a creature with stunted forelimbs but massive, powerful hind legs.

It stood upright like a man, its two crimson eyes glowing with a heart-stopping, malevolent light. As the incoming spells neared, the Black Kong let out a low chortle of delight. It exhaled a cloud of pale yellow mist that swallowed the spiritual energy whole, digesting the attacks instantly. As the energy entered its belly, the beast's form solidified slightly, and it let out a series of satisfied grunts.

"A Black Kong?" Xuan Liao's eyes widened with momentary terror, but his gaze soon sharpened.

"Little Witch, had you brought the actual beast, we would have fled. But this is a mere phantom image sealed within a treasure! What can a shadow do to me?" This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. With a cold sneer, Xuan Liao tapped his forehead. A silver ring, the size of a fist, flew out.

"Go!" At his command, the ring expanded until it was a yard wide, vibrating with a high-pitched hum before hurtling toward the Spirit-Devouring phantom.

"Junior nephews, strike together! Help me slay this demoness!" Wang Zihan shouted, leading the charge by launching his own spirit tool at Li Xiumei. The others didn't hesitate. A barrage of artifacts rained down. Though most were only at the 8th level of Qi Condensation, their combined assault was a tidal wave of destruction. Moo! The Black Kong let out a deep, resonant bellow that sounded like a bull. It swept its yellow mist in a wide arc, desperately parrying the swarm of weapons.

But it was, after all, only a projection. Its power was not even a tenth of the original beast's. Under the relentless bombardment, the phantom began to tremble violently, letting out shrieks of agony. Each blow to the phantom drained Li Xiumei's essence further, her face flushing an even more unnatural shade of rose as her desperation peaked.

"Black Kong Phantom... Detonate!" Li Xiumei's voice was a ragged whisper, filled with reluctance, but her resolve was absolute. In an instant, the beast's black fur turned a violent, bloody red. Its eyes welled with liquid crimson that looked like fresh blood ready to drip.

"Shit! Fall back!" Xuan Liao's face drained of color. He frantically recalled his silver ring and retreated at maximum speed. BOOM! The explosion was faster than his reflexes. A massive shockwave slammed into Xuan Liao's back, turning his vision white. He stumbled in mid-air, a trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Those behind him fared far worse. Except for Wang Zihan, who had barely managed to shield himself, the disciples saw their spirit tools caught in the blast.

The Black Kong's self-destruction released a cloud of Soul-Tainting Miasma, a foul energy that corroded artifacts and wounded the soul. Their weapons dimmed instantly, crashing to the parched earth like useless scrap. Puff! Puff! Puff! As their soul-linked tools were destroyed, the cultivators sprayed mouthfuls of blood, their auras collapsing. Two of them lost consciousness instantly, falling from the sky and shattering against the ground like dropped pottery.

Despite the carnage, Xuan Liao remained standing, and Wang Zihan was largely unhurt. Li Xiumei had no cards left to play. Her consciousness was slipping into a warm, dark abyss. She flew blindly in one direction, her blurring vision catching sight of a familiar figure before the world went black. Reyn caught the limp, burning body in his arms. Though her face was still masked by the masculine disguise of her technique, the words of the attackers had stripped the truth bare.

No wonder she was so stiff when we were drinking. She's a woman, Reyn thought, a wry smile touching his lips. He had sensed she was a cultivator, but her gender had eluded him completely. Now, however, by collapsing into his arms so unreservedly, she had brought a mountain of trouble to his doorstep. Reyn looked up, his gaze sharpening into twin blades of ice as he locked onto the two approaching figures.

"You little brat... it's you again," Wang Zihan spat, his face twisting with malice. He was about to lung forward when Xuan Liao raised a hand to stop him.

"Young man," Xuan Liao said, stepping forward with a voice that feigned sincerity.

"This person is a member of the demon sects, a creature of pure evil. Please, hand her over to us so we may see justice done." The mortals of the caravan were paralyzed with terror, having never seen the true, violent power of 'immortals.' At Xuan Liao's booming voice, many fell to their knees, sobbing and begging for mercy, creating a scene of utter chaos. Reyn frowned. If possible, he had no desire to provoke a Late Foundation Establishment expert.

But as he looked down at the semi-conscious Li Xiumei—who had sought him out in her final moment of awareness as the only person she could trust—he knew the cost of betrayal. To hand her over for his own safety would plant a seed of cowardice in his heart, a Heart-Demon that would surely shatter his future cultivation. Reyn raised his head, his eyes sweeping over the two men with cold indifference.

"And if I refuse? What then?" As the words left his lips, a powerful, suffocating spiritual pressure began to radiate from his body, slow and heavy like an awakening mountain. Late Foundation Establishment pressure. Without a fight, who could say who would emerge the victor?

"A cultivator?" Xuan Liao's expression shifted. The pressure Reyn was emitting was undeniably at the Foundation Establishment level, yet when he tried to probe Reyn's actual cultivation, it appeared to be stuck at the Qi Condensation stage. A Qi Condensation brat emitting the pressure of a Foundation Establishment master? Is this a joke?

"Is he hiding his true power?" Xuan Liao felt a prickle of apprehension. The more he looked at Reyn, the less he could see the bottom of the young man's depths.

"Fellow Daoist," Xuan Liao said, his tone shifting to one of cautious respect.

"I am Xuan Liao of the righteous Breeze Sect. This woman is a demoness who destroyed my home. I ask you again, do not interfere in this vendetta."

"A righteous sect?" Reyn looked up, a mocking sneer curling his lip.

"When the horse bandits attacked, you hid behind the mortals."

"When the 'evil' cultivator was slaughtering innocent people, you didn't make a sound."

"And now, you wait until she is poisoned and weak to strike from the shadows." He let out a sharp, cold laugh.

"Righteous? To my eyes, you are far less honorable than this 'demoness' you despise so much." Xuan Liao choked on his words, his face turning a mottled shade of purple. Reyn's words were a series of resounding slaps to his face, leaving him with no room for rebuttal.