Outside the Bai Clan estate—
The crowd that had dispersed earlier in the night returned, awakened by the commotion. Curious onlookers gathered once more, pointing at the glowing formation patterns that now enveloped the compound.
"What's the Bai Clan doing?"
"Yeah, first they burned their accounting hall with Fire Dragon Burns the Granary, now they've activated their clan-protection array in the middle of the night. Did some vicious rogue cultivator break into their vault?"
"That's unlikely. This is Spiritridge City, after all. The Blood Reversal Sect's laws still apply."
"But you can't just rely on a name! Everyone knows the current City Lord is just a Foundation Establishment rookie."
"What can he protect? Who fears him?!"
"Watch your mouth—that's insulting the Holy Sect's authority."
"The City Lord represents the Holy Sect's authority? Who the hell are you kidding?!"
Two gossipers, one provoking, the other retorting.
Soon, fists flew. The crowd erupted into chaos.
Among the onlookers, agents from the Guan and Jiang Clans, as well as the three Core Formation sects operating in Spiritridge, had all sent spies. The scent of blood wafting from the Bai estate made them uneasy.
They immediately relayed the news to their respective leaders.
At the Guan estate—
The Guan Clan head, who had interacted with Wang Yu twice before, received the report and instantly guessed the truth: Wang Yu had struck.
Recalling his own earlier mimicry of Fire Dragon Burns the Granary, he panicked.
He summoned his steward and ordered a backup copy of the clan's ledgers to be transcribed overnight.
He had prepared for both outcomes.
If the Bai Clan succeeded, he'd burn his own accounting hall. If the City Lord prevailed, he'd present the backup records and pay his taxes in full.
Either way, he remained a loyal subject.
But the reports spoke of heavy bloodshed.
Wang Yu was alone. He couldn't have spilled that much blood. It could only mean the Bai Clan had suffered massive casualties.
Uneasy, the Guan Clan head abandoned his cultivation and sat quietly in his hall, awaiting further news.
He wasn't alone. Throughout the city, many waited—some were local tyrants, others street-level lords. This incident concerned everyone.
…
Outside the Bai Clan ancestral hall—
Exhausted from fending off possessed juniors, the Second and Third Elders were drenched in sweat. They couldn't harm their kin, nor could they restrain them.
They had tried binding them with true essence ropes.
But these disciples seemed immune to pain. Even with broken bones, they escaped and launched suicidal attacks.
"This heart-bewitching technique is too vicious—it overrides even the instinct for survival!"
"Could this be a secret art of the Blood Reversal Sect?!"
Third Elder Bai Zhuzhu gritted her teeth.
"If we must… sever their limbs."
"…"
"Do it."
The decision was agonizing. That the mighty Bai Clan couldn't subdue a single early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator was humiliating.
"After this crisis, we must find a spiritual sense-cleansing technique—to prevent this from happening again."
"Heh…"
"You won't get the chance."
Suddenly, Wang Yu appeared behind Bai Zhuzhu. As he punched forward, the Nether Serpent Spine coiled around his arm, empowered by the brute strength of the Corpse Demon Arm and Corpse Bone Core.
A shockwave exploded outward, blasting the air into a white ring.
Bai Zhuzhu instinctively activated her protective aura. A golden ring-shaped high-grade second-tier artifact materialized behind her. Her reaction was flawless.
But her aura shattered instantly. Only the golden ring blocked the fatal blow.
She was sent flying, crashing through possessed Bai disciples—pulverizing them into bloody mist. A rain of blood poured down.
The Second Elder's eyes turned red.
"No—!"
After being toyed with for so long, his fury had reached its peak. Wang Yu's appearance was the perfect outlet.
He watched Bai Zhuzhu crash through buildings, finally halted by the Mountain Marsh Tortoise Shell Array at the estate's edge.
A green spear appeared in his hand.
He lunged.
Thorny vines erupted beneath Wang Yu's feet, binding him in place. But he remained calm, even smiling.
In that flash of insight, the Second Elder sensed danger—but his full-force strike was already committed.
"Splurt—splurt—splurt—"
The spear pierced flesh repeatedly—but not Wang Yu's.
It was the possessed Bai disciples, throwing themselves in front of the blade.
Their Qi Refining bodies couldn't withstand the full power of a seventh-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator wielding a high-grade artifact.
As death approached, their awareness returned—just long enough to show confusion.
Second Elder… why are you killing me?
"Ding—"
Finally, the spear struck Wang Yu's Earth Element Cauldron, flipping it into the air. The blade slid toward Wang Yu's body, only to be blocked by his Corpse Armor Vest.
The Second Elder's face twisted. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Wang Yu! I'll fight you to the death!"
"Gladly."
As the spear withdrew and lunged again, forming a spiraling wood dragon, the Second Elder suddenly groaned.
His body was engulfed in gray soulfire.
It was the Glazed Soul Lantern, a high-grade second-tier artifact.
After breaking through Foundation Establishment, cultivators could wield two artifacts. Wang Yu's spiritual sense, now at late-stage Foundation Establishment, allowed him to control three.
He had baited the Second Elder into reckless aggression.
Now, the trap was sprung.
Though the lantern was stolen, it was compatible with Wang Yu's Ancient Soul Codex. Under his control, it unleashed its full power.
The soulfire didn't harm the body—but it seared the soul.
The pain was unimaginable.
Seizing the moment, Wang Yu unleashed his perfected Dark Yin Palm. This time, no phantom hand appeared—it was pure, refined force.
The palm, saturated with viscous dark yin energy, transformed Wang Yu's right hand into a spectral claw.
He struck the Second Elder's chest.
His robes exploded. His chest collapsed. A black palm print remained.
Blood gushed from his mouth.
He didn't die—but his heart meridian was damaged. He wouldn't live more than a few days.
Just then—
Bai Zhuzhu staggered back into view, arriving just in time to see the Second Elder struck by the full force of the Dark Yin Palm.
"No!"
Wang Yu casually cleaned his ear. He'd lost count of how many times he'd heard that word tonight. It was getting tiresome.
"Your turn."
Bai Zhuzhu was at the sixth layer—mid-stage Foundation Establishment. Her spiritual sense was weaker than Wang Yu's. With the right tactics, he could win.
Besides, her waist showed signs of injury. That earlier punch had done real damage.
Without a word—
She unleashed several icy sword beams. Her golden ring artifact transformed into a shield, blocking all attacks with 360-degree coverage.
Mist filled the air.
From within, sharp golden sword beams flew out, locking onto Wang Yu's position. He activated his Frostmoon Wings, vanishing in an instant.
He raised the Ghostcry Flute to his lips. A haunting melody filled the air.
Bai Zhuzhu staggered as she emerged from the mist. Her eyes flickered red—affected by the Heart-Control Demon Melody.
But her mind was consumed by one word: vengeance.
Vengeance! Vengeance! Vengeance!
Even at major mastery, the melody only disrupted her briefly. She accelerated, closing in on Wang Yu, slashing down with her high-grade golden sword.
Wang Yu caught the blade with his left hand.
He grinned. "You're trying to fight me in close quarters? Are you mad?"
No matter how sharp the metal, even if it sliced his fingers—he felt no pain.
That arm wasn't his real body.
He yanked her forward, clenched his right fist, and drove it into her abdomen. Her organs twisted violently.
But Bai Zhuzhu smiled cruelly.
Her golden ring expanded, encircling their waists and tightening—pressing them face to face.
She was a mature beauty, well-preserved and curvaceous. He was a striking youth, tall and elegant.
It looked like an embrace.
Wang Yu felt disgusted. But her soft whisper made him freeze.
"Guiyuan Secret Art: Dissolution!"
A self-detonation technique.
Though demonic cultivators often walked extreme paths, few practiced self-detonation arts. They were too dangerous—impossible to rehearse.
One mistake meant instant death.
High risk, zero reward. Only madmen and death-seekers trained such arts. They were banned by all Nascent Soul sects.
That Bai Zhuzhu knew this technique meant she had suffered deeply in the past. She had found it during a moment of despair—and trained it for this very end.
The Guiyuan Secret Art was infamous. Wang Yu had read about it in the Scripture Hall.
In that instant—
Wang Yu activated his Corpse Demon Secret Art, severing his left arm from his body.
The golden ring loosened slightly. He pulled his arm free, widened the gap, and unleashed his second-tier body strength.
Wang Yu's body twisted with explosive force, his muscles surging as he wrenched himself free from the constricting golden ring. With a final heave, he hurled Bai Zhuzhu's body away from him.
She flew a dozen meters before—
Boom!
A blinding white light erupted midair, followed by a deafening explosion that shook the entire Bai Clan estate. The shockwave tore through the courtyard, shattering tiles, uprooting trees, and sending debris flying in all directions.
Wang Yu had already activated the Earth Element Cauldron, expanding it to its maximum size to shield himself.
Even so, the blast was too close.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the cauldron's surface. With a final groan, it shattered into fragments. Wang Yu, though protected from the worst of the explosion, was still thrown back, blood spraying from his lips.
The Earth Element Cauldron—destroyed.
It had served him well, but in the end, it was only a low-grade second-tier artifact. It couldn't withstand the full force of a self-detonation at such close range.
Wang Yu landed hard, rolling across the blood-soaked ground. He coughed violently, wiping the blood from his mouth.
But he was alive.
He had survived the Guiyuan Secret Art—a forbidden self-detonation technique feared across the Demonic Path.
The Bai Clan's Third Elder, Bai Zhuzhu, had perished in the blast. Her body was gone, reduced to ash and scattered bone.
The courtyard was silent.
Only the distant crackle of flames and the moans of the dying remained.
Wang Yu stood slowly, his silver hair matted with blood, his robes torn and scorched. But his eyes were clear—cold, resolute, and utterly unshaken.
Tonight, the Bai Clan had gambled everything.
And lost.
(End of Chapter)