### Chapter 75: Madness
"Whoosh~ whoosh~"
Cold black winds lashed their faces, sharp as blades. Even cultivators had no defense against this chill.
Lin Yi, Xiao Liang, Peng Qingyun, Zhang Ziyan, and Yan Shizong wore tattered robes, their defensive artifacts exposed beneath. Fatigue clung to them; Yan Shizong, the weakest, was pale as a ghost.
They trudged through muck, tree roots coiling overhead. Five days of endless battles—dozens of skirmishes—had left them on edge, their artifacts hovering at the ready, poised to strike at the first sign of demons.
"Huff… huff…" Yan Shizong panted.
Zhang Ziyan, though Fifth Level, fared little better. Her forced composure painted her cheeks with a faint flush, a rare softness that made the men steal glances—Lin Yi included, his blood stirring.
Lin Yi, with his superior physique and Seventh Level Peak cultivation, fared best. His calm demeanor anchored the group; unconsciously, they looked to him for direction.
"Rest," he said, voice grave. "I'll keep watch."
"Thank you, Brother Lin," Peng and Yan murmured.
"Let me take a turn," Xiao Liang offered, though his weariness showed.
"No need," Lin Yi said, forcing a smile. "Save your strength for the next fight."
Xiao Liang nodded, gratitude in his eyes.
"Be careful," Zhang Ziyan said, her usual coldness softened by exhaustion. Lin Yi's steadfastness had cracked her icy exterior.
"I will," Lin Yi replied, though his thoughts wandered.
…
"Suppression breeds rage… pure, unbridled rage—that's what I need!" A voice hissed, mad with fervor, echoing in the darkness.
No one answered.
…
Elsewhere, Huo Bin—now a demon-corrupted cultivator—sat on a stone throne, flanked by three others. All bore the marks of 魔化 (demonic transformation), their auras 邪恶 (fiendish).
"Brother Chu," Huo Bin said coldly, "骆大人 (Lord Luo) won't tolerate distractions. Let go of your obsession."
"Focus on the mission," the Xuanfeng demon added. "A single woman isn't worth our lives."
Chu, the Xuanling turncoat, stared into the darkness, his jaw tight. "I understand."
…
"Gaga!" Demon cackles filled the air as they flitted around Zhao Changlao's group, their attacks relentless yet non-lethal—torment, not slaughter.
"Insane! I'm going insane!" Chen roared, his eyes bloodshot. "I'll blow myself up to take them all with me!"
"Calm down, Brother Chen!" Zhao shouted.
"How? Tell me *how*!" Chen raged, his composure shattered.
Ma Yunliu huddled among the disciples, trembling. Why had the demons spared him? Their attacks were weak, yet relentless—any lapse in focus brought a flurry of blows, keeping everyone on edge.
"Damned demons!" Elder You muttered, seething. "Why toy with us?"
Hours of endless harassment had drained them. Initially, they'd fought back fiercely, but fatigue had set in. The demons' strategy was clear: break their spirits.
"I can't take it anymore!" A disciple screamed, charging into the horde.
"Come back!" The elders shouted, but he vanished into the darkness.
More followed—three disciples, then four—rushing toward the demons, who parted to let them through, blocking the elders' attempts to stop them.
"Join us!" a demon cackled. "No more pain."
Then Chen, his mind snapped, charged.
"Chen!" Zhao lunged, but Chen甩开 him with a wave of spiritual energy, vanishing into the demon horde.
Stunned silence fell over the remaining disciples.
The深渊 had claimed its first elder.