Han Yu felt his heart loosen.

Though the fate of Wanchun Valley’s Sect Leader and Supreme Elder remained unknown, the sword cultivators from the Spirit Sword Sect were finally here.

Perhaps Wanchun Valley would not be destroyed after all.

Following that cold shout, a surge of sword light swept across the sky outside the Guardian Formation. Crimson escape lights scattered in panic, accompanied by a chorus of screams.

“Ye Guxing, do you truly dare to make an enemy of me—”

Before the Saint Blood Perfected One could finish, Ye Guxing—white hair streaming, eyes sharp as steel—brandished his round-hilted black sword.

“Demonic cultivators… all must die!”

With a sharp cry, his blade struck. The sword light erupted like a silver river pouring from the heavens, unstoppable and absolute.

The Saint Blood Perfected One shrieked, transforming into a streak of bloody light as he desperately fled. Ye Guxing stepped onto his flying sword, chasing like a rainbow across the horizon, pushing his black blade to its limit.

In an instant, the sword light pierced the Saint Blood Perfected One from behind. It tore through his chest, blasting a blood-red Golden Core straight out of his Danzhong acupoint.

Ye Guxing clenched his fist. Sword Qi swirled violently, pulverizing the Golden Core into dust.

He watched quietly as the corpse and the core disintegrated, a look of grim satisfaction in his eyes. His thoughts were clear; his Sword Heart, lucid.

His only regret was that a hundred years ago, he had been too weak to exterminate the Demon Blood Sect entirely, allowing remnants to survive the five sects’ siege. Now, he had finally slain their last Golden Core cultivator.

The past, and the people lost to it, could finally be laid to rest.

For a fleeting moment, Ye Guxing’s vision blurred. A memory of his small, carefree sect flashed before his eyes. But the trance lasted only a heartbeat. When he returned to his senses, his gaze was colder than before.

He turned to the twenty disciples of the Spirit Sword Sect who had followed him.

“Slaughter them all. Leave not a single demonic cultivator alive!”

Demonic cultivators deserved only death.

The Wanchun Valley Sect Leader, Qi Wanfa, along with Li Tonghai and the Spirit Sword Sect disciples, were already hunting down the fleeing enemies. Upon hearing Ye Guxing’s order, the sword cultivators roared their assent.

A voice urgently called out from Wanchun Valley’s Guardian Formation: “Sect Leader, you’ve finally returned!”

“The demonic cultivators used a secret art to trigger hidden agents! Elder Zhao suddenly showed signs of Blood Refining, went berserk, and attacked Elder Wang. They perished together! At the main peak, a Deacon and a disciple also turned and were killed! The main peak is now secure.”

“However, they attacked the Ancestral Tree at the gate, provoking its wrath and destabilizing the barrier. Fifteen demonic cultivators slipped inside during the chaos. They are slaughtering our disciples!”

Qi Wanfa was shocked. “Fifteen infiltrated? Are there any Golden Core cultivators among them?”

“No, the highest is at the Foundation Establishment stage!” the Elder replied.

Qi Wanfa exhaled in relief. “Open the entrance. I am going in!”

“Elder Yan, Elder Bai, Elder Wen—lead twenty Deacons and follow me to purge the intruders!”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

An entrance opened in the barrier. Qi Wanfa rode his green jade gourd inside, met by Elders Bai, Yan, and Wen flying from the main peak. The forces merged and began a ruthless sweep of the sect grounds.

Before long, twelve intruders were dead, and many disciples were rescued.

“Sect Leader,” Elder Bai asked softly as the fighting died down. “What of the Supreme Elder?”

“He detonated his Golden Core,” Qi Wanfa said, his voice heavy with sorrow. “He took a Spirit Beast Sect Golden Core cultivator with him.”

The Elders fell silent. Though they had suspected as much, the confirmation stung. The Supreme Elder had always preached “Conquer Hardness with Softness,” advocating peace to protect the valley. Yet when the end came, his resolve was harder than iron. He had truly given his all for the sect.

“We will discuss the Supreme Elder later,” Qi Wanfa said, suppressing his grief. “There are still three demonic cultivators hiding within the barrier. Find them. Kill them. Then we will invite our guests from the Spirit Sword Sect inside.”

“It should be two remaining,” a Deacon corrected. “Inner Disciple Li Yunxia reported that the Spirit Field Department killed one demonic cultivator at the ninth layer of Qi Refining.”

Qi Wanfa and the Elders were surprised. “The Spirit Field Department has such strength? Casualties?”

“They later encountered a Foundation Establishment enemy. Outer Disciple Ji Yida was killed. Hua Qi and Han Yu fled separately; their status is unknown.”

Qi Wanfa nodded. “Then find the last two. Quickly!”

The group dispersed, scouring the Spirit Field, Alchemy, and Artifact Forging Departments. Everywhere they looked, the bodies of Laborer Disciples littered the ground.

…

It seemed… safe now.

Hidden beneath the shrubs and soil, Han Yu concluded that the calamity had passed. Through the eyes of his large crow, he saw the demonic cultivators outside being hunted down like dogs.

Had Old Man Li escaped?

Han Yu didn’t know. He hoped the old man hadn’t been part of the assault force today. If he had come with the Saint Blood Perfected One, there was little chance he would survive.

Just as Han Yu prepared to emerge, the large crow sent a sharp mental alert.

Movement.

Han Yu froze.

Moments later, a demonic cultivator stumbled into the woods, panting heavily. He leaned against a tree, cursing under his breath.

“Years of lurking… suddenly summoned for this… and now that I’ve finally broken in, the boss gets slaughtered outside!”

“What am I supposed to do? There’s no way out!”

His desperate eyes darted around until they landed on the branches above. A massive flock of crows watched him silently, each one radiating faint spiritual energy.

The cultivator’s face lit up. “These Wanchun Valley fools are useless in a fight, but they keep good stock! These spirit birds are perfect. I’ll drain their essence blood to recover my strength.”

He channeled his Blood Essence, transforming into a bloody mist that surged toward the canopy.

The crows flapped their wings, diving into the mist as if to attack. But the moment they entered the red fog, they grew sluggish, swaying unsteadily in the air.

The cultivator laughed. “Stupid birds, walking right into the pot! Excellent!”

He reached out to grab a crow, eager to feast.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Four wind blades sliced through the air from three different directions.

“Eh?!”

The cultivator yelped, instantly dissolving into a bloody shadow to zigzag away. He reformed near a cluster of shrubs under a different tree.

“Feathered beasts! So you know magic now!”

He grinned savagely. “Even better. Your blood will be richer—”

He stopped. A chill ran down his spine.

He turned his head.

Floating directly behind him, inches from his back, were thirty to forty hovering Blood Droplets.

His eyes bulged. Before he could scream, the swarm collapsed inward.

Splutch.

The droplets punched through his body all at once, turning him into a ragged pile of bloody pulp.