Cultivation, Inc.I Use Capitalism to Fix a Dying Sect

Chapter 149: The End of the Black Wind Stockade

The Black Wind Ancestor locked eyes with the three Nascent Soul cultivators hovering opposite him. His brow furrowed. “Fellow Daoists, your auras suggest you are not from the Chaos Demon Commandery. May I ask what brings your esteemed selves to my Black Wind Stockade today?”

“Heh. The Black Wind Stockade butchers the innocent and tyrannizes this region,” Wen Zheng sneered, his face the picture of absolute righteousness. “We are cultivators of the righteous path. Naturally, we have come to eliminate demons and defend the Dao!”

The Black Wind Ancestor’s expression darkened. He swept the perimeter with his Divine Sense, his heart turning cold. There were over a dozen Nascent Soul cultivators surrounding the Formation.

He was completely outmatched.

Suddenly, his gaze landed on the massive flying boat—and Patriarch Qingxuan standing at its helm. The Ancestor’s pupils contracted to pinpricks as their eyes met.

In that instant, the Black Wind Ancestor’s heart plummeted. With his centuries of experience, he immediately grasped the grim reality. This was a targeted execution.

“Fellow Daoists, if you spare my Black Wind Stockade today, this old man will offer a generous gift,” the Ancestor said, taking a deep breath. He desperately hoped to use wealth to avert disaster.

Unfortunately, he vastly underestimated the appetite of these Nascent Soul elites. They didn’t want a bribe; they wanted to liquidate the entire Black Wind Stockade.

“Hmph. Evil heretics deserve only death. The Heavens decree that everyone has the right to eliminate you!”

With a cold snort, Wen Zheng summoned a crimson Bagua mirror from within his body. It instantly materialized above his head, expanding rapidly as he injected his True Qi.

The two Nascent Soul cultivators from the Positive Sun Sect flanking him also channeled their True Qi into the artifact.

Instantly, the Bagua mirror erupted with a blinding crimson radiance. Arcane, golden talismans swirled across its polished surface.

“A mere evil Formation—shatter for me!”

Wen Zheng roared. The Bagua mirror locked onto the massive crimson shield enveloping the Black Wind Stockade and fired a colossal pillar of crimson light.

This beam radiated pure, absolute Zhengyang Qi—the ultimate yang energy. It slammed directly into the Myriad Spirit Blood Fiend Array.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rocked the mountain. The Myriad Spirit Blood Fiend Array buckled violently. That condensed Zhengyang Qi was the ultimate bane of dark arts, rapidly vaporizing the array’s blood fiend energy.

The protective dome over the Black Wind Stockade flickered, on the verge of collapse.

“Damnable wretches! Do you truly intend to wipe out my Black Wind Stockade?!” the Ancestor roared at Wen Zheng, his eyes bloodshot.

“Hmph. Evil heretics are not worth a single breath of pity!” Wen Zheng retorted, his face a mask of righteous fury.

“Fellow Daoists, the time for talk is over,” Patriarch Qingxuan announced from the ship. “Strike now. Do not let this old ghost escape.”

“Heh, rest assured, Fellow Daoist Qingxuan. He cannot escape even if he grows wings.”

“Let’s move. Time to earn our keep.”

…

In an instant, the remaining Nascent Soul cultivators stepped off the flying boat, teleporting outside the Myriad Spirit Blood Fiend Array. Below them, the Golden Core cultivators surged forward like a tidal wave, their faces twisted in bloodthirsty excitement.

The Myriad Spirit Blood Fiend Array was already in imminent danger. Under the combined bombardment of a dozen Nascent Soul masters, the barrier finally groaned and shattered into a rain of crimson sparks.

The exact millisecond the array collapsed, the Black Wind Ancestor slapped a cyan Talisman onto his chest. He transformed into a streak of black light, abandoning the Sect as he shot toward the horizon.

“Ancestor, take me with you!” Wen Sha screamed, his face contorting in abject terror. The other Black Wind Stockade disciples turned deathly pale.

The Ancestor ignored them completely, not even glancing back.

However, just as the Ancestor thought he was clear, his escape trajectory slammed into an invisible barrier. The black light dissipated, revealing his stunned figure.

Four Nascent Soul cultivators materialized in front of him. Floating above one of them was a massive, inverted bowl-shaped Spirit Weapon radiating a terrifying suppression aura.

The artifact had deployed a secondary dome of light, completely locking down the Black Wind Stockade. The Ancestor had effectively run headfirst into a cage.

“Hmph. Still trying to run? Did you really think you could escape your karma today?” one of the cultivators sneered, pointing a finger at the Ancestor.

A silver flying sword materialized, instantly expanding into a massive, lethal arc of silver sword Qi that cleaved toward the old man.

“Damn you! Don’t push me too far!”

The Black Wind Ancestor roared, thrusting his right hand forward. A sinister black flag manifested in his grip. The artifact bled an icy, Yin aura. Its canvas was woven with the screaming faces of countless tormented souls, an absolutely terrifying sight.

With a vicious wave, a torrent of black light surged from the flag, intercepting the descending silver blade.

Boom!

The silver sword was violently repelled, and the black light dissipated into the ether.

“The Soul Devouring Flag!” the sword-wielder roared, his eyes widening in disgust. “Damn you, Black Wind Ancestor! How many living beings have you slaughtered to forge that monstrosity?!”

The Soul Devouring Flag was a taboo Spirit Weapon. It fed on the agony of mortal souls to amplify its power. Just by looking at it, one could tell it held an astronomical body count.

“Hmph. Mere ants. It is their highest honor to become nourishment for my flag!” the Black Wind Ancestor spat, his eyes gleaming with psychotic malice. He viewed mortal lives as nothing more than expendable data.

To forge this single artifact, he had executed a blood sacrifice of one million mortals.

“Kill him!”

“Eradicate this monster!”

“Do not let him leave this mountain alive!”

Four Nascent Soul masters attacked simultaneously. A crimson pill furnace, wreathed in raging divine fire, hurtled toward the Ancestor like a meteor.

Alongside it came a massive silver sword, splitting the sky.

From above, a hundred-foot-long phantom of a white jade ruler crashed down with the force of a mountain.

Finally, a glowing blue pearl shot forward, tearing through the sound barrier.

“Bastards! You hypocritical, sanctimonious frauds, go to hell!” The Black Wind Ancestor screamed in fury, burning his True Qi to the absolute limit.

The sinister runes on the Soul Devouring Flag flared. Millions of vengeful, screaming souls erupted from the banner, blotting out the sun as they swarmed the four attackers.

In an instant, the sky was transformed into a netherworld domain, howling with glacial Yin winds.

The combined attacks of the Nascent Soul masters were stalled by the tidal wave of ghosts. Seizing the opening, the Black Wind Ancestor bit his tongue and spat a mouthful of potent essence blood directly onto the flag.

The Soul Devouring Flag screamed, erupting with a cataclysmic shockwave. The force sent the cultivators’ Spirit Weapons flying and brutally ripped a hole through the bowl-shaped suppression barrier.

However, the cost was immense. The flag’s shaft was now riddled with stress fractures, its aura plummeting rapidly.

Heart bleeding at the damage to his lifebound artifact, the Ancestor wrapped the flag in True Qi, transformed into a black streak of light, and shot through the opening toward the right.

Below him, the Black Wind Stockade had been plunged into an abyss of despair. The horde of mercenary Nascent Soul and Golden Core cultivators flooded the compound, launching a ruthless, systematic massacre.

The few remaining Golden Core defenders were like lambs waiting to be slaughtered, completely powerless against the overwhelming stats of the invaders.

In mere moments, the Black Wind Stockade was reduced to a river of blood. Countless disciples had their souls scattered and destroyed.

The Black Wind Ancestor didn’t dare look back. He had sacrificed his strongest artifact just to break free; he needed to escape immediately.

But fate was cruel. He had barely flown a hundred yards when a terrifying, celestial sword light descended from the heavens, manifesting directly in front of him.

The Ancestor desperately summoned a black shield.

It was useless. The shield shattered like cheap glass. The Black Wind Ancestor was blasted backward, coughing up a geyser of blood as his aura rapidly collapsed.