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“Move! Don’t dawdle!”
Tang Qiaohuan stood at the back, ushering the disciples one by one.
She couldn’t afford to wait.
Her Master was now bait for these expendable disciples.
Her Master was kind—too kind—always acting like a saint or bodhisattva.
Fortunately, Yuqing Sect’s disciples were well-disciplined.
They formed an orderly line—wounded supported by others, the immobile carried on backs.
But this was over fifty people.
Even at their best, organization took time.
Gong Ning knew her Master.
If these disciples weren’t safely evacuated, she wouldn’t retreat.
And she wouldn’t leave the secret realm—because Yan Sha would follow.
Gong Ning had reached the exit.
The beast was closing in.
“Yuyao, where are they?”
“Fourth layer.”
The realm had seven layers.
She meant Layer Four—the fourth underground level.
“Can you hold it?”
“Difficult.
If I fight it directly, I can’t protect you.”
Before Gong Ning could say don’t worry about me, a voice rang out.
“Don’t panic! I’ll assist!”
Master Jichen arrived, hurling a talisman.
At the same time, Long Hanxi raised her hand and slashed—sending a sharp ice blade into Yan Sha, cracking its scales.
No wonder Cold Moon Court was the hardline faction.
Their control over spiritual energy was precise—unlike the others, whose heavy strikes risked collapsing the realm.
Xugu Zi of Changsheng Abbey specialized in sealing techniques.
Cultivators of longevity arts naturally understood how to deal with immortal, unkillable foes.
He gestured with both hands—drawing a massive rope from thin air.
Like a living serpent, it coiled around Yan Sha’s limbs.
But the effect was minimal.
Not ineffective—just insufficient.
Because Yan Sha was still growing stronger.
The beast seemed limitless—its power increasing steadily since the beginning.
Its surrounding fire energy surged wildly, converging into its body.
Even the fire energy Gong Ning had released from the spirit stones was now drawn to it.
Tang Xuanchen frowned.
“No good. At this rate, the beast will destroy the realm itself before we even strike!”
“Why hesitate? Just destroy it!
To slay demons and eliminate evil—bloodshed and death are inevitable!”
That was Long Hanxi.
Her words made Gong Ning and Master Jichen frown.
The other three said nothing—implying silent agreement.
To save some by sacrificing others—not Gong Ning’s way.
But for cultivators, preventing greater disaster was paramount.
How many died, how much gold was spent—that was Great Yan’s concern.
Besides, the longer this dragged, the stronger Yan Sha grew.
At such a moment, one couldn’t afford hesitation, infighting, or clinging to idealistic solutions.
But at the very least, the damage should be minimized.
“Yuyao, carry me down!”
Jiang Yuyao wrapped her arms around Gong Ning and leapt downward.
In an instant, Yan Sha broke free—chasing Gong Ning, closing in fast from above.
Luckily, Jiang Yuyao moved swiftly—dodging with a Flickering Step, though the landing still shook the earth.
Gong Ning’s vision blurred.
The speed of the Flickering Step nearly overwhelmed her Qi Refining body.
Yet she still managed to ask, “Yuyao… the disciples… how are they?”
“Almost out. Mostly safe.”
Good.
Even with Yan Sha right before her, Gong Ning exhaled in relief.
A heavy weight lifted from her heart.
At that moment, the four Nascent Soul cultivators finally unleashed their true might.
Tang Xuanchen, a pure sword cultivator, radiated silent authority.
Master Jichen, though devoted to medicine, wielded powerful talisman arts.
Xugu Zi seemed weakest, yet Changsheng Abbey was one of the oldest sects—no one knew what secrets he truly held.
Most striking was Long Hanxi.
No weapon in hand—yet every part of her was a blade.
Cultivators only used raw spiritual energy directly after Golden Core.
Even Nascent Soul cultivators avoided such inefficient waste.
Yet Long Hanxi shaped weapons from her body—ice blades that didn’t seem like wasted energy at all.
She soared into the air and struck first—her sword slashing toward Yan Sha.
Yan Sha swung its tail to block.
But it couldn’t stop her.
Its hard scales—and the tail itself—were severed.
No blood. No flesh.
The tail instantly dispersed into fire energy.
That single slash stirred the surrounding spiritual energy, twisting the realm’s environment.
Even the stone walls were deeply gouged.
Yan Sha roared in pain.
Its scales flared like a peacock’s feathers—absorbing the scattered fire energy.
“Can this… even be called life?
No wonder it had to be sealed…”
The other three joined in—each strike more devastating than the last.
Jiang Yuyao couldn’t attack.
She had to protect Gong Ning—keep her from being caught in a stray ripple.
Gong Ning, meanwhile, was still thinking.
Was there a way to save everyone?
Earlier, a choice had to be made.
But now, if there was a way—she could still save them.
She stared at the dissipating tail.
Then, a sudden flash of insight.
“Everyone—seal the surrounding space!
Don’t let any spiritual energy escape!”
She had no authority to command them.
But in crisis, any decision—even a poor one—was better than indecision.
Master Jichen acted first.
Gong Ning pulled out the Frostbound Star Core.
Ice energy surged through the space.
Yan Sha’s absorption of fire energy instantly halted.
“It works!”
After all, the ancestors’ wisdom had its uses.
The Frostbound Star Core suppressed Yan Sha.
Combined with the confined space, even after prolonged use, it still held power.
“Senior Xugu Zi—prepare your sealing technique!”
“No need to say more. I understand.”
Yan Sha tried to struggle.
But Long Hanxi and Tang Xuanchen gave it no chance—constantly disrupting it with precise strikes.
Though not yet over, they all sensed it.
It was ending.
Yan Sha’s body shrank.
Two Nascent Soul cultivators steadily stripped its form.
It couldn’t replenish.
It grew smaller—until it resembled a small beast.
Finally, Xugu Zi’s sealing technique descended.
With a weak, defiant roar, Yan Sha was sealed into an artifact.
“It’s over.”
Gong Ning exhaled deeply—her body and mind utterly drained.
She slumped into Jiang Yuyao’s arms.
They emerged from the secret realm.
Sunlight stung their eyes.
The streets were eerily quiet.
Many guards stood watch.
Jiang Yuyao asked the stationed Governance Institute personnel.
Apparently, a black-robed Xuan Yuan Sect cultivator had appeared earlier—claiming to capture everyone in San Shi Street as ingredients.
Cultivation level: Golden Core.
The civilians had been evacuated.
But the cultivator had yet to appear.
“Gong Ning Elder, a woman asked me to give you this.”
The officer handed her a compass.
The moment Gong Ning touched it, she knew.
This was the key—no need for puzzles—just open the secret realm.
The woman—and the Xuan Yuan Sect cultivator—were clearly one and the same.
“Tch. Evil lingers for a thousand years.”
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