"I knew it... It's an arrow... When did such a powerful archer with a golden bow emerge in the Eastern Sea to take my life for no reason?!"
Since Ewu could clearly see the enemy, the panic in his heart began to subside. In its place, a deep wave of hatred surged. Thanks to his vajra body, he survived the attack and was able to determine the direction from which the golden phoenix-like profound arrow had come from.
"This arrow came from the front... so the enemy must be in the east. Damn it... I came all the way here for nothing!"
Realizing the direction of the attack, Ewu immediately returned. He quickly turned and rode the dharma light, flying toward the west.
He performed a hand seal, and his two long staves began to glow with golden light, thickening and stretching outward. The smell of burning incense emanated from them, radiating arcs of light that gradually formed into a circular shield.
"Qinling Shield."
Ewu did not have many defensive spells at his disposal. With one staff behind his back while the other pressed against his chest, he made sure his heart and vital organs were well protected as he rode the wind.
Although Ewu had never seen this man before, he was betting that such a powerful attack should not be easy to execute. But just as he thought he was safe, a buzzing sound suddenly rang in his ears, followed by a sharp pain shooting through his chest and back.
The sound tore through his ears, echoing constantly and almost to no end, causing his ears to bleed. A wave of raw fear surged in his heart. Ewu realized this was not just any ordinary sound—it was the result of the enemy's immortal foundation or its supporting spell.
His mind raced.
It's someone from the immortal sect, but not the Golden Tang Gate... Which one has such a powerful disciple? Could it be the sword gate?
Then, a tremendous shock hit his chest. The long staff in his hand let out a mournful cry before flying out of his grasp, spinning twice in the air. Ewu clutched his chest, feeling a new hole the size of a cow's eye in his left chest.
A Buddhist cultivator's dharma artifact was inferior. By the time he recovered his long staff again, he realized that it was now slightly bent.
Ewu was filled with dread.
He attacked from the front again! He's doing this on purpose!
The man's archery skills were unmatched, and Ewu had never encountered such a terrifying immortal arrow before in his life. It felt as though the archer was toying with him, striking for amusement. No matter which direction he took, the enemy could seemingly hit him at will.
Having fought in countless battles before, Ewu instinctively dove into the depths of the sea to escape at this critical moment. But just as he did, a cold shiver ran down the back of his neck.
Here it comes again...
He tried to unleash another spell, but a burst of Astral Qi pierced through his body with astounding power yet again, creating yet another small hole. It moved through his skin and organs, interrupting Ewu's spell twice until he ultimately failed to perform it.
Panic surged in Ewu's heart, growing to an unbearable intensity. He performed another hand seal with both hands and then yelled, "Paramita Technique—Body Sacrifice!" [1]
In an instant, his pale face and body melted rapidly, transforming into a golden light that enveloped him completely. Ewu radiated powerful energy, yet he did not feel any sense of security—only a chilling sense of dread creeping over him.
The buzzing in his ears intensified, almost like a million birds chirping in unison, and blood continued flowing from both of his ears. He expended his dharma body so that he could focus his gaze to the maximum. Finally, he saw five golden lights streaking toward him like meteors, their tails glowing brightly.
Hummm!
Clouds of vapor rose from the seawater, and Ewu opened his mouth to let out a roar, finally releasing the primal fear that gripped his heart. The five golden lights seemed to vanish, but he realized he was now nothing more than a head attached to a pair of shoulders—the rest of his dharma body had completely vaporized.
At this point, Ewu's heart turned as cold as seawater. He raised his arms, and without waiting for the next golden blast to strike, he twisted his own neck with a sharp, deliberate motion.
SNAP.
Ewu snapped his own neck. He had intentionally avoided using his dharma body's power, choosing instead to kill himself in the seawater. The golden light raced in, turning his torso into all but a bloody puddle as his head flew into the air, causing a massive wave to form on the surface of the sea.
The waves churned violently before slowly calming down, leaving only thick, dark clouds overhead. A drizzle began to fall on the sea before the four gusts of dharma winds finally arrived.
The leader of the guest cultivators gulped nervously, looking at the three others standing beside him. None of them dared to meet his gaze; they all lowered their heads and kept their eyes on the ground.
While the group was at a loss for what to do, a dark golden light slowly emerged before them. A middle-aged man appeared, riding on a flying shuttle. He reached out, catching Ewu's severed head falling from the dark clouds, and with a wave of his sleeve, he collected his dharma artifact and coldly surveyed the group.
This man had a chilling presence, dressed in imposing-looking black-gold armor with a longbow slung across his back. One hand rested behind him, while the other held the severed bald head with terrified eyes frozen in time.
Ewu's head, still dripping with blood, stained the man's strong arm. He said nothing, merely gazing at the group in silence.
RUN!
That was the thought that crossed the minds of the group simultaneously, but none of them dared to move a finger. A chilling wave of fear washed over them as the middle-aged man approached, step by step. Each of them lowered their heads, staring at the surface of the sea. Finally, the leader of the group spoke.
"T-Thank you for your help, Senior... We were..."
He was sweating profusely, his voice trembling as he spoke. Behind him, a figure swiftly flew over. It was Master Zong, whom Ewu had sent away earlier. He circled around, eventually finding the group. Shock and excitement filled his face as he approached and began speaking to the group in a flurry of words.
"Master Fu! Lord Situ must have used some kind of talisman... Just now, during the fight, I..."
SLAP!
He had only spoken half of his sentence when he sensed the strange atmosphere. He was then slapped across the face unceremoniously, causing him to stagger backward in shock and confusion.
The guest cultivator surnamed Fu, already sweating bullets, quickly pressed his head down and continued speaking, "We are but humble cultivators from the cape. We didn't mean to disturb the immortal sect's emissary! Please forgive us, Senior..."
Master Zong, noticing the grim expressions of his colleagues that seemed like they wanted to devour him alive, quickly suppressed his anger.
Li Xuanfeng's cold gaze swept past him and warned in a dangerously cold voice, "Go back and tell Situ Mo this—if he dares take even half a step off this island, I will shoot his head off and kick it like a ball."
Master Fu nodded quickly, understanding the gravity of the situation. This was a conflict between immortal sects, and he was just a small cultivator from overseas with no power or influence. All he could do was deliver the message. He dared not even wipe the sweat from his brow, nodding frantically as he replied, "This humble cultivator understands..."
Li Xuanfeng's black-gold armor glowed slightly before he finally vanished into thin air. The oppressive atmosphere finally lifted, and the crowd's tense expressions began to soften.
Master Zong, still reeling from the unexpected slap, was left angry and confused. He looked around at the group, his eyes filled with bewilderment.
Master Fu wiped the sweat from his brows and scolded, "You should be relieved that you're still alive because you didn't say anything that would've made things worse!"
Master Zong sort of understood the situation and whispered, "Which immortal sect's lord was that?"
"Who knows? You thought that was a talisman attack, but in reality, it was just a few arrows released by that man! Looking at his appearance... he may be from the Golden Feather Immortal Sect..." Master Fu replied hoarsely.
1. Paramita is a Buddhist term that is often translated as "Perfection". ☜