### Chapter 83: Slaughter
Lin Yi's face tightened, and Zhang Ziyan paled instantly. The demonic voice, laced with insidious magic, sent their minds reeling, threatening to shatter their resolve.
Forcing down his panic, Lin Yi wondered if the teleportation array would've been safer. But he'd made his choice—this passage let them see threats coming.
"Who's there?" he shouted, tightening his grip on Zhang Ziyan's waist to mask his unease.
"Leave," the voice repeated, ethereal and alluring.
"Show yourself!"
"Leave."
"Are you scared?" Lin Yi asked, softening his tone as he turned to her.
She lifted her gaze, a flicker of hidden warmth in her eyes. Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together stubbornly. "No."
Staring at her, Lin Yi pulled her close. "With you here, death doesn't frighten me." He released her, forcing a smile. "Let's go."
…
Half an hour later, Lin Yi froze. Ahead, among the bones, lay fresh demon corpses.
"It must be them," Zhang Ziyan said, relief in her voice. A companion would steady their nerves.
"Which one?" Lin Yi mused. "Yan would've taken the array—too coddled by Mengxuan elders. Xiao Liang or Peng, maybe both?"
"You read him well," she chuckled, easing his tension.
"Experience," he grinned. "Let's hurry—they might need help."
Her fingers tightened around his, a faint blush on her cheeks.
…
Two hours later, the sound of clashing energy reached them. Up ahead, a figure drenched in black blood fought a sea of demons—Peng Qingyun.
"Peng兄 (Brother Peng)!" Lin Yi roared, summoning the *Kuang Wang* sword. He unleashed *Crescent Moon*, the first stance of *Nine Breaks of the Heavens*, slicing down five demons in an instant.
Zhang Ziyan drew her whip—an upper-grade artifact, her last weapon—and joined the fray.
Peng's breath hitched, relief washing over him. "You're here."
These demons were weak, mostly equivalent to Third or Fourth Level Qi Refinement, with a few Fifth or Sixth. But their numbers were endless.
"Where are Xiao Liang and Yan?" Lin Yi asked, slashing another demon.
"Gone through the array. I hesitated… regret it now," Peng panted, his aura unsteady.
"Regret nothing," Lin Yi said. "The array could've spat you into a den of高阶 demons."
"嘎嘎! Die!" The demons shrieked, their four-fingered hands weaving spells. Black magic projectiles hurtled toward them.
Lin Yi intercepted a spell aimed at Zhang Ziyan's back, his *Crescent Moon* colliding with it in a burst of light. She glanced at him, a smile fleeting across her face, then lashed out with her whip—*crack!* A demon crumpled, spitting black blood.
Her whip was no top-grade artifact, but its power ranked among the best upper-grade tools, nearly matching a top-grade's might.
Lin Yi rummaged in his bag, pulling out three fire talismans. "Cover your eyes!"
He hurled them. Flames erupted, searing the darkness. Demons screeched, their magic faltering—they feared light, creatures of the deep. Twenty-odd burned to ash; more fled, singed.
"Good thinking," Peng gasped.
But the reprieve was brief. More demons surged forward, as if driven by an unseen force.
Lin Yi's brow furrowed. He'd conserved his mid-grade artifacts, but now… He tossed Zhang Ziyan his remaining talismans—twenty fire, nineteen earth wall, two warrior. "Use them all! Burn the bastards!"
She hesitated, then nodded, flinging talismans left and right. Flames and earthen barriers erupted, buying them space.
Lin Yi charged, fists flying. *Iron Sand Palm*—amplified by his *Five Spirits Technique*—crushed demons left and right. He was a whirlwind of destruction, but each strike drained his tempered body's strength.
They advanced less than two miles in hours. The passage stretched endlessly, demons swarming like ants.
"Can't stop!" Lin Yi roared, his voice raw.
Zhang Ziyan and Peng rallied, their weary bodies finding a second wind.
Lin Yi smashed a demon's skull, his vision blurring. Ahead, the horde thickened—no gaps, no end.
*How long can we keep this up?*
Despair gnawed at him, but he locked eyes with Zhang Ziyan. Her resolve mirrored his own.
"Forward!" he shouted, raising his fist.
They charged, blades and whip singing, into the endless fray.
The passage echoed with their battle cries, a stubborn defiance against the darkness.