Meanwhile, as the vassal leaders delayed the Sacrificial Knives’ offensive, Xinzi’s massive array settled into shape. From outer to inner court members, legions of White Immortal sect disciples stood in line—more precisely, they sat crossed-legged, with their hands resting on their thighs while waves of blue qi seeped out of their forms. In the last 500 years, never had the White Immortal sect hosted such a spectacle. The enormous mountain peak previously meant for the Yin-Yang contest struggled to fit these numbers. The spectators that initially scrambled for their lives now stood like straight arrows, awe-struck by the display.
Dong Ling, Chun Xu and Xia Hu also stood in the lineup. But while they didn’t sit far from one another, an awkward and distressing atmosphere split Xia Hu from Chun Xu. Since their reunion, the two had yet to exchange a word, relying on Dong Ling’s antics and the war-situation to steer clear of one another. Alas, silence and distance often spoke the facts that human lips dared not pronounce. Whenever Xia Hu strove to break the stalemate, and mustered the courage to seek Chun Xu’s gaze, the Sword Fairy avoided him. The longer she maintained the distance, the more convinced Xia Hu became that Xinzi didn’t deceive him. Male or not, no fairy awaited him.
Alone before this sizable army, and with his eyes shut tight, Xinzi held a miniature coffin. With a qi vortex of 109 rotations, the monk could split his Spiritual Sense into 110 strands, and used these strands to connect to 110 disciples at the same time. Once his cultivation base broke through to Foundation Building, these numbers would increase massively, but for now they’d have to do. From disciple batch to disciple batch, Xinzi tapped in his exquisite mastery of soul force to drain the disciples’ Spiritual Senses. On the surface, this would enable him to maintain the colossal array. But on a deeper level, Xinzi also used the opportunity to deposit his Klesha Haze.
Quantity-wise, the Klesha Haze had no limit and was restrained only by Xinzi’s Soul Force. Thankfully, the disciples gave him willing access to a staggering supply, enabling the foul monk to use the unsuspecting cultivators’ own Soul Force reserves to take root in their exposed souls. Thus, unbeknown to the White Immortal sect’s leadership, an army loyal only to Xinzi was rising from their ranks. However, in all this perfidy, there were four people that Xinzi didn’t care to fudge. Xia Hu, Chun Xu, Dong Ling and…Shui Haoyang!
Indeed, when even Rong Suishan didn’t escape Xinzi’s demonic haze, Shui Haoyang didn’t receive an iota. Why did the unstable Dongli prince, out of all people, receive such preferential treatment? The answer would come shortly.
With these four, our monk only attempted to tap in their Spiritual Senses, making them support their share of the formation. Xia Hu, Chun Xu and Dong Ling offered no resistance. But right when Shui Haoyang’s turn came, the young prince’s eyes opened wide. The same demented glint that seemed to animate him during the Yin-Yang contest flared again, and his lips stretched into a disturbing grin.
Leaping from the disciples’ ranks, Shui Haoyang tapped his storage ring, pulling out a Life Extinguishing pill that he chugged down immediately. Dark-green mist gushed out, latching on and draining nearby disciples while also exhausting some of Shui Haoyang’s potential to push his cultivation base to Pulse Condensation!
“Xinzi, you can die!” Propelled by a rush of animosity, the words rolled off Shui Haoyang’s tongue, and again, he tapped his storage ring. Three dark-blue coins appeared in his palm and, with a flick of his fingers, the coins flew at Xinzi—carrying alongside them an energy signature that mirrored the Dark Moon cult’s cultivation methods!
“Haoyang, no!” Reacting faster than nearby elders, but too late to reach them in time, Shui Jiankang screamed at his most-favored son—the words had no use. Neither the three coins—together a profound-grade artifact—nor Haoyang would stop because of Jiankang’s words. In other circumstances, the young cultivator might not be able to display one-tenth of such an artifact’s might, but with the Life-Extinguishing pill pushing his cultivation base to Pulse Condensation, he could unleash a staggering 30%—more than enough to butcher most elite disciples—to say nothing of a Qi Refinement Xinzi.
The White Immortal sect elders panicked, the disciples’ relatives in the audience wailed at will, and as time seemed to slow down, hearts beat frantically.
To a certain extent, all disciples within the array were connected through Xinzi. Should something happen to him, over 20,000 of the White Immortal sect’s talent pool would get brain-damaged or die overnight! No matter what enmity Shui Haoyang shared with Xinzi, as a White Immortal sect disciple and Dongli prince, no one expected him to make such a move—no one except for Xinzi, who’d spotted signs of his demonized heart during their previous confrontation.
As they neared Xinzi’s neck, the three coins multiplied—reaching a nerve-racking thirty-three count. Still, our monk’s lips curled up, a teleportation talisman flashed in his right hand and—to Shui Haoyang’s stupor, Xinzi vanished, only to reappear a step behind him. By the time Shui Haoyang realized that he’d been played the fool, Xinzi’s massive hands had sandwiched his head—slamming into his temples with the rumble of roaring thunder.
Dazed by the sharp blow, Shui Haoyang’s form vacillated. Blood spurted from his shattered eardrums, and as his mind reeled, Xinzi summoned a recording mirror, and the monk’s voice echoed in Haoyang’s soul.
‘Fool. Though I suspect that the Dark Moon cult used some trick to help you hide it from your father and uncle, your Heart Demon has grown too strong, and for a while now, stood on the verge of conquering you entirely.’
‘You…knew?’
‘Of course I did. Why I else would I give you the opportunity to make a move? Sorry, but you revealed too many flaws during our fight. And even without them, your steady descent into demonization isn’t something that can escape my eyes. Shui Haoyang, annihilating you is a simple matter. Putting your ruin to use is where it gets more complicated. If the little you can become a tool for me to extort massive benefits from the Dark Moon cult, would I not be foolish to not let you breathe for a couple extra hours? That said, for you to reach your maximum value, your current state isn’t enough. You need…one last push.’ Xinzi’s sinister voice pealed within Shui Haoyang’s soul, galvanizing the Heart Demon that had been corrupting him till now.
‘Haoyang, Indulge! Haoyang, let your rage and hatred for Xinzi and the White Immortal sect consume you entirely. Enable it to devour you, sink into demonism and awaken your demon heart. When your Evil Qi takes shape, and you embrace your greater self, even Xinzi…will not be your match!’ In Shui Haoyang’s mind, Xinzi vanished, replaced by—Shui Haoyue—his beloved sister, whose melodious voice drove him closer into his Heart Demon’s arms.
‘Haoyang, Indulge!
Indulge your Heart Demon, Indulge in your madness, sink…in Indulgence!’ Golden Lianist symbols flashed within Shui Haoyang’s mind, and following “Shui Haoyue’s” guidance, he reached out to his Heart Demon. A tentacled mass of darkness rose from within the confines of Shui Haoyang’s soul, waving its tendrils at his strung-out face.
‘Haoyang, let me loose! Let me loose, and I will fulfill all of your desires! From Xinzi to Guang Fanghu, all their heads will be yours!’ This time, it wasn’t Xinzi, but indeed Shui Haoyang’s Heart Demon that spoke. Its high-pitched voice pulled Shui Haoyang in, and at last, the Dongli prince succumbed.
‘Yes…obviously…Haoyue is correct! Why didn’t I think of this before? As long as I let it out…Xinzi will not be my match! Hahahaha!’ Without hesitation, Shui Haoyang took down the last shackles of his Heart Demon. Minuscule quantities of dark-purple qi, Evil Qi, rose from his pores and, from sclera to pupils, his eyes became a full black.