It’s over.
This was the first thought that arose in Chen Yan’s mind when He Furen clasped him in a palm formed from his innate true energy.
He had indeed killed Ye Xiu, stopping that Dao Union Realm great demon’s “return.”
But what did that matter?
Among the three people present—himself, Lin Qifeng, and Qin Qingyu—even together they were by no means a match for He Furen.
Even if they had foiled Huo Mu’s plot, in the end he would still find it hard to escape death.
As long as He Furen and Wen Hongli remained alive, the situation could not be resolved.
At that moment, a gray-black strand of innate true energy suddenly pierced through Chen Yan’s body.
Intense pain surged through him in an instant.
A third, a fourth, a fifth…
Twelve in total.
The agony of being pierced by twelve strands of innate true energy nearly cost Chen Yan his consciousness.
Chen Yan sensed what was about to happen.
He Furen intended to sacrifice his soul to the remnant soul of the Black Flood Dragon.
He forced his head up and looked at the enormous black serpent’s skull as it drew ever closer.
Instinctive survival reflexes drove Chen Yan to forcibly circulate the Hidden Immortal Art under the suppression of the twelve strands of innate true energy.
It was useless.
The black serpent opened its blood-red maw and swallowed Chen Yan whole.
It felt as if the entire world fell into utter silence.
…
Long, chaotic memories flooded Chen Yan’s mind.
Kill.
In a forest, a beautiful sika deer stood before Chen Yan; its fur, antlers, even its eyes were astonishingly lovely.
But in Chen Yan’s mind there was only one impulse.
Kill.
Next appeared seven or eight burly men wielding various farming implements.
Kill.
Then came a well-equipped, well-ordered army of some secular dynasty.
Kill, kill!
After that, cultivators in Daoist robes brandishing long swords.
Kill, kill, kill!
One, two, three.
Ten, twenty, a hundred.
A thousand, five thousand, ten thousand.
One hundred thousand, a million, ten million…
No matter what lifeform appeared before Chen Yan, regardless of the number, his thought was only one thing: kill!
Kill!
Kill, kill, kill!
Until a young man in pure white Daoist robes stood before Chen Yan, hands clasped behind his back.
“My name is Kong Yang.”
The youth said softly,
“The world wishes to call me True Person Caiyun.”
Kill, kill, kill!
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
Chen Yan was sealed into the Demon Suppression Stone.
What followed was endless torment spanning thousands of years. During that time, Chen Yan gradually shed his rage and learned to think calmly.
Then his spirit slowly collapsed until his consciousness was completely extinguished.
…
My mouth is so dry.
Strange. Ever since breaking through to the Martial Spring Realm, he had hardly felt thirst.
But now he was so thirsty…
Chen Yan struggled to open his eyes and found himself lying on a soft, familiar bed.
He recognized the place; this was his residence on Kongyuan Mountain, part of Kongshan Sect.
Chen Yan sat up, looked around, then climbed down from the bed and walked to the door, pushing it open.
In the courtyard a young disciple held a broom, looking only about fifteen or sixteen.
From the gilded cloud crane patterns on the sleeve hem of his robe, it was clear this young cultivator was also a disciple of Kongyuan Mountain.
The young disciple turned his head, saw Chen Yan at the doorway, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment; both his expression and voice trembled.
“E-elder, Chen… Senior Brother Chen woke up! Senior Brother Chen woke up!”
The young disciple shouted loudly.
Chen Yan waved his hand impatiently, signaling the youth to be quiet.
“Where’s my master? Is he still alive?”
He took a few steps forward into the courtyard and stood before the young disciple.
There was no malice in Chen Yan’s question. Before he sank into that long dream, the last fragment of memory in his mind had been the scene at the Water Mirror Pavilion ruins on Heavenly Summit Mountain, when He Furen pierced him with twelve strands of innate true energy and prepared to sacrifice him to the remnant soul of the Black Flood Dragon.
Whether Lin Qifeng lived or died, he had no idea.
“Elder Lin, Elder Lin should be…”
The young disciple stammered.
Chen Yan seized on the key phrase in the youth’s words.
“Elder Lin?”
Chen Yan frowned.
He knew he was on Kongyuan Mountain, not the outer courts. Yet the Kongyuan Mountain disciple before him addressed Lin Qifeng as Elder Lin.
Odd as it was, it sounded like his adoptive master might still be alive.
What had happened later on Heavenly Summit Mountain?
“That’s right, Senior Brother Chen, you might not know. Your master currently holds the position of Alchemy Hall Elder on Kongyuan Mountain,” the young disciple said.
“Alchemy Hall Elder?”
Chen Yan’s heart dropped.
If the Alchemy Hall Elder on Kongyuan Mountain was now Lin Qifeng, then what about Yue Chi?
Chen Yan hadn’t spent that much time with Yue Chi, but compared to the others he had lost on Heavenly Summit Mountain, he had been closer to Yue Chi.
After all, this Second Uncle-Master had taken a lot of blame for him.
He hurried into the Alchemy Hall and noticed that the face behind the counter on the first floor was different from the Zhao Bin who used to stand there.
The disciple behind the counter looked up, saw Chen Yan rushing in, and showed a startled expression.
“Chief Disciple Chen?”
“Where’s my master?”
Chen Yan asked.
“On the third floor of the Alchemy Hall, with the Dignity Elder…”
Before the counter disciple finished, Chen Yan stormed up the stairs.
“Master!”
Chen Yan pushed open the door and burst in.
Inside, two people sat drinking tea together. One wore a Bagua Daoist robe, hair completely white; the other wore a loose crane cloak, looking like a man in his forties or fifties.
“Uncle Yue? You’re not…”
Chen Yan looked at the white-haired elder in the Bagua robe in surprise.
“Not really?”
Yue Chi replied calmly.
“It’s you who has finally woken up.”
Only then did Chen Yan notice the token at Yue Chi’s waist: the token of Kongyuan Mountain’s Dignity Elder.
“How long was I out? And what happened later on Heavenly Summit Mountain?”
Chen Yan asked.
Yue Chi made a hush gesture and shook his head.
“Before we discuss those things, I need to ask you one question first.”
“What question?”
“That guy—is he awake now, or is he still asleep?”
Yue Chi asked.
“That guy? Who?”
“Of course I mean the Black Flood Dragon inside your body.”