"Senior Brother Li, Senior Brother Zhang seems to be surrounded. Aren't you going to help him?" Song Hesong asked with concern etched across his face.
Li Fan recalled Senior Brother Zhang's strength from Li Chen's memories and shook his head. "Four ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators aren’t enough. Even an early-stage Golden Core cultivator can’t do much to him."
Song Hesong's expression shifted strangely at these words.
With Chu Liang’s roar, four beams of light shot simultaneously toward Zhang Qianmo.
As if confirming Li Fan's assessment, a purple mirror materialized above Zhang Qianmo’s head at the critical moment, forming a protective barrier around him that instantly reflected the four beams back at their casters.
Chu Liang and the other three attackers hadn't anticipated this turn of events. Caught off guard, they were struck by their own attacks.
"How can the shine of rice grains compete with the sun's radiance?" The purple lightning mark between Zhang Qianmo's eyebrows emitted a heart-palpitating glow.
Thin strands of purple electricity crackled around his body, radiating intimidating power. A halberd brimming with malevolent energy slowly materialized in Senior Brother Zhang's hand.
Zhang Qianmo pointed the halberd at Chu Liang and the other three, looking down on them with contempt. "Today, I'll show you the difference between a true disciple of a major sect and you rogue cultivators!"
Before his words faded, Zhang Qianmo flashed and appeared before the nearest enemy.
With a sweep of his halberd, purple lightning surged like an angry dragon, mercilessly consuming the man.
"Ah!"
The man only had time for one scream before vanishing within the furious purple light.
In the blink of an eye, their numbers dropped from four to three. The surviving cultivators couldn't hide their terror.
Chu Liang shouted desperately, "Fellow Daoist Song, if you don't act now, when will you?"
Li Fan's expression changed at these words, but before he could react, eight bloody chains suddenly wrapped around his body.
Then, a force completely surpassing the Foundation Establishment realm slammed into his back.
A purple mirror appeared above Li Fan’s head as well, deflecting some of the impact. But the force was too immense. The mirror's protective glow lasted only moments before shattering into countless fragments of starlight.
Taking the full brunt of the attack, Li Fan violently coughed up blood, his energy rapidly fading.
Yet his opponent showed no mercy.
Li Fan turned to see Song Hesong swinging a massive blood-red hammer, his face expressionless.
The hammer strikes came one after another with overwhelming power, aiming to crush Li Fan where he stood.
At death's door, a jade pendant on Li Fan's chest shattered. A giant hand composed entirely of purple lightning emerged from the fragments.
The hand formed a single seal, locking onto Song Hesong.
Above them, dark clouds gathered, and a purple thunderbolt as thick as a barrel descended directly toward Song Hesong's head.
Song Hesong's face twisted. But instead of dodging, he maintained his offensive, determined to kill Li Fan even if it meant taking the thunderbolt head-on.
In that lightning-fast moment, a halberd flew from afar, intercepting the blood-red hammer.
Zhang Qianmo arrived in an instant and quickly supported Li Fan. "Are you alright, Junior Brother?"
As he spoke, he sent a strand of spiritual qi into Li Fan to stabilize his injuries.
Then his expression turned grave as he looked at Song Hesong.
Li Fan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes locked onto Song Hesong.
This sudden betrayal, and the fact that the man wielded power far beyond that of an ordinary late-stage Qi Refinement cultivator, had truly caught Li Fan off guard.
Worse still, he was inhabiting another’s body and had yet to fully adapt to his host’s techniques and movements. That moment of unfamiliarity had nearly cost him his life.
Fortunately, the body’s original owner, Li Chen, had been an inner disciple of the Purple Firmament Sect. Thanks to the many self-preservation methods at his disposal, Li Fan narrowly escaped death.
When his gaze returned to Song Hesong, he saw the man badly wounded by the Purple Firmament Divine Lightning. Yet, green threads of vital energy rose from Ningyuan City below and wove into his body, knitting flesh and bone at a shocking pace. Within moments, his injuries had completely vanished.
Song Hesong’s expression darkened. The blood-colored hammer in his hand warped and elongated, transforming into a longsword.
From afar, Chu Liang and two others rushed over, encircling the two Purple Firmament Sect disciples.
Zhang Qianmo ignored them, his brows knitting as he fixed his gaze on Song Hesong.
“Mid-stage Golden Core realm?” he said coldly. “Manager Song, have you also taken up that so-called new methodology?”
Mockery flickered across Song Hesong’s face. “What else could I do? I served your Purple Firmament Sect faithfully for most of my life, yet all I received was a measly outer manager’s post.
“Aside from that pitiful Purple Firmament Thunder Invocation Art and a handful of spirit stones each year, I got nothing for my efforts. Had I continued on that path, I’d have died at the Foundation Establishment realm.”
His voice twisted with bitterness. “They said my aptitude was lacking. Yet after switching to the new methodology, I reached Foundation Establishment in five years, and formed my Golden Core in ten. Tell me, Senior Brother Song, how lacking is my talent now?”
The malevolent aura swirling around him thickened, and Zhang Qianmo’s eyes glinted with killing intent.
“Demons and heretics,” he said flatly. “I’ll purge you myself.”
Song Hesong laughed, the sound harsh and wild. “Demons and heretics? You righteous sects raise mortals like livestock, draining their lifespans to refine longevity fruits. And you dare call others demons?
“In my eyes, you are the true demons and heretics.”
His blood-colored aura surged with his fury.
Zhang Qianmo’s expression did not waver. “Mortals live under our protection, so they must pay the price. Demons and beasts roam beyond the wilderness. There, mortals are nothing more than sustenance. Without the immortal sects, how could they have survived this long?
“Did you think a few self-righteous words could shake my Dao Heart?”
A violet light kindled in Zhang Qianmo’s eyes as he leveled his halberd.
“You may have reached the Golden Core realm, but I’ll still cut you down today!”
For a brief moment, Song Hesong’s aura faltered under the crushing pressure. But rage quickly replaced fear.
“I’ve long heard about how mighty the inner disciples are,” he sneered. “Let’s see if that reputation holds true!”
The blood-red sword in his grasp split into six identical blades that streaked toward Zhang Qianmo’s halberd.
Meanwhile, Li Fan found himself surrounded by Chu Liang and the other three cultivators. Even so, he remained calm. With a thought, he employed the Purple Firmament Thunder Invocation Art and summoned his weapon, a long spear that sang like a dragon when it moved.
He met the trio head-on. At first, his attacks were awkward, the movements of this body still unfamiliar to him. Each strike of his spear seemed easy to predict, easy to dodge.
Though Chu Liang and his companions were all late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators like himself, they only began cultivating recently. Their techniques and attacks paled in comparison to Li Fan’s, leaving gaps he could exploit.
As the fight dragged on, his control over his host’s body and techniques grew. His spear strikes grew sharper and faster, each one precise and charged with killing intent.
Before long, Chu Liang’s group found themselves overwhelmed, forced onto the defensive.