Chapter 22: The Abyss Awakens

“Miss Shen, are you willing to come with me now?”

The voice remained soft, yet it coiled into her ear like a poisoned ice snake, burrowing deep.

Suffocation. Powerlessness. Despair.

Gu Chang’an and Ning Jihe’s expressions had also turned utterly grim.

The entire Myriad Beasts Valley had transformed into a colossal cage, meticulously crafted for cultivators.

“Little servant, why so quiet?” Qu Hanpo advanced menacingly towards Shen Zhaoqing, who was still kneeling. He then turned to Li Ruan’yan, a sneer twisting his lips. “Well, this is a rare sight indeed.”

“Didn’t expect to see me again, did you? I recall you were quite formidable in that wine carriage before. You even dared to slay my men!” The avarice and savagery in his gaze threatened to coalesce into a tangible force. “This time, let’s see where you’ll run!”

‘A wine carriage?’

Shen Zhaoqing suddenly remembered.

The potent, cloying stench of blood, mingled with cheap wine and rust, seemed to pierce her nostrils once more.

The flickering lamplight inside the carriage illuminated the bandits’ grotesque, grinning faces.

Her head had been forcibly held, her gaze wrenched towards the gory, mangled scene outside the carriage.

The chilling touch of a blade, tracing a path along her cheek.

Despair, fear, nausea… All the emotions she had painstakingly suppressed, like a dam breaking, surged through her very being at that moment.

Shen Zhaoqing’s body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Her face instantly blanched, and she instinctively recoiled a step, only to collide with a soft, yet chilling, body.

It was Li Wuxia.

The junior sister had, at some point, positioned herself directly behind Shen Zhaoqing. Now, she fixed Qu Hanpo with an unwavering glare, her eyes swirling with a murderous intent far more chilling than any bandit’s.

“What, scared?” Qu Hanpo’s laughter grew more maniacal at her reaction. “Good, you *should* be scared. Once I drag you back to Black Wind Fortress, I’ll string you up on a flagpole for all my brothers to see — a stark lesson in what happens when you cross us!”

Behind him, the hardened bandits erupted in a chorus of lewd guffaws, their predatory gazes crawling over every inch of Shen Zhaoqing’s form.

“You court death!”

A sharp, frigid cry suddenly rent the air.

Gu Chang’an’s wrist snapped. The dulled Frostbright Sword let out a mournful, unwilling wail as its blade pivoted, casting aside all intricate sword forms. It transformed into a pure, direct streak of white, thrusting straight for Qu Hanpo’s throat.

There was no sword qi, no spiritual radiance—only the raw speed and formidable strength of a peak mortal martial artist!

“Excellent!”

Qu Hanpo sneered, neither dodging nor parrying. His monstrous, door-panel-sized broadsword, whistling with malevolent force, cleaved down directly towards the Frostbright Sword.

“Clang!” A deafening roar of clashing metal erupted.

Gu Chang’an felt an irresistible, colossal force surge through her sword, numbing the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger. She stumbled back three paces, completely beyond her control.

“Immortal Gu.” Qu Hanpo flexed his arm, still tingling from the impact. A flicker of caution crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a smug grin. “Times have changed. Within this Immortal-Sealing Array, you pampered cultivators are nothing more than toothless tigers. My strength? I carved it out of mountains of corpses, one brutal strike at a time.”

As he spoke, he let out a savage roar. Behind him, over a dozen hardened bandits from Black Wind Fortress, spurred by his command, charged forward in unison.

They possessed no tactics, no formations—only the most primal, most savage of mob assaults!

“Protect Junior Sister Shen! Protect the Qingyun Sect!”

A cry rang out, though from whom, no one knew. The remaining Qingyun Sect disciples, their faces deathly pale and limbs trembling, nonetheless gritted their teeth, drew their personal swords, and bravely met the onslaught.

Ning Jihe moved as well.

She drew a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the tumultuous qi and blood within her, and unsheathed a soft sword from her waist—a blade as delicate and thin as a cicada’s wing.

As Chief of the Enforcement Hall, her close-quarters combat skills were far from lacking.

In an instant, blades flashed and swords glinted, while shouts of battle echoed to the heavens.

Yet, this battle had been inherently unfair from its very inception.

The disciples of the Qingyun Sect, accustomed to soaring on their swords, engaging in fierce spell duels, and relying on spiritual energy for protection, were now stripped of everything. Ninety percent of their formidable abilities had vanished.

With such a stark imbalance, the tide of battle swiftly devolved into a one-sided massacre.

“Thwack!”

An inner disciple had barely parried a steel saber aimed at his face when another barbed scimitar, swung from his flank, plunged viciously into his abdomen.

Blood gushed forth. Before he could even utter a scream, he was brutally kicked aside, collapsing heavily to the ground as his life force rapidly ebbed away.

Gu Chang’an’s eyes blazed crimson, her sword light flashing like driven snow. With every precise swing, she claimed the life of another bandit.

But the enemies were simply too numerous.

“Senior Sister!” Shen Zhaoqing’s swordplay was clumsy, and her stamina was already failing. She could only grab whatever makeshift weapon was at hand and strike indiscriminately.

She watched the figure who was always so coolly aloof, like a transcendent immortal atop a snowy peak, now battling fiercely amidst mud and gore. Her heart felt as if an invisible, crushing hand had seized it tightly.

Meanwhile, Ning Jihe’s situation was equally dire. Already wounded, she was now entangled by two Nascent Soul stage cultivators from the Li family, barely clinging to defense amidst a constant flurry of lethal strikes.

The entire Qingyun Sect’s defensive line was visibly crumbling before their eyes.

Li Ruan’yan stood just outside the fray, savoring the gruesome tableau unfolding before her. Her gaze remained fixed on Shen Zhaoqing, as if delighting in the final, desperate struggles of her prey.

Qu Hanpo, having forced Gu Chang’an back with a brutal swing, now advanced towards Shen Zhaoqing, step by menacing step, a cruel sneer plastered across his face.

At some unknown moment, a completely black dagger had appeared in Li Wuxia’s hand. The faint, almost imperceptible crimson threads that had previously swirled around her had, without the support of spiritual energy, vanished without a trace.

Now, she was merely an ordinary, even somewhat frail, young girl.

“Get out of the way!”

Qu Hanpo snarled impatiently, dismissing the girl who looked as if a mere gust of wind could topple her. With a casual flick of his monstrous broadsword, he brought its flat back down with immense force, aiming for Li Wuxia’s shoulder.

He hadn’t even bothered to use the blade.

“Wuxia!”

Shen Zhaoqing cried out in alarm, attempting to pull her away, but it was already too late.

Li Wuxia did not dodge.

She couldn’t dodge.

The instant the whistling blade wind reached her, she executed a move that stunned everyone present.

She abruptly spun sideways, presenting her slender back to the heavy flat of the blade, meeting its impact head-on.

Simultaneously, the black dagger in her hand, like a venomous serpent striking, plunged with every ounce of her strength towards Qu Hanpo’s lower abdomen!

“Thud!”

A dull, colossal thud echoed!

“Pfft!”

Li Wuxia’s body was flung forward like a leaf caught in a gale. A crimson arrow of blood erupted from her lips, splattering across the earth before her.

Qu Hanpo, momentarily stunned by her suicidal ferocity, hastily pulled back his strength and retreated. Yet, the poisoned dagger still managed to carve a shallow gash across his lower abdomen.

“Damn this wretched girl!”

Both shocked and enraged, Qu Hanpo stared at the rapidly blackening wound on his abdomen. With a furious kick, he sent the prone Li Wuxia tumbling further away.

Li Wuxia struggled, attempting to rise, but another mouthful of fresh blood erupted from her lips.

‘Senior Sister… run…’

Shen Zhaoqing’s mind went blank with a sudden ‘buzz’.

Time, in that instant, seemed to grind to a halt, as if a slow-motion button had been pressed.

‘Why?’

‘Why them?!’

‘Why must those around me suffer because of *me*?!’

‘Why can you despicable wretches freely inflict harm upon them?!’

‘Why!!!’

The warm, wine-scented current that coiled around her heart meridians, as if sensing its master’s burgeoning fury, suddenly shuddered. Then, with an unprecedented roar, it surged into motion!

In that instant, Shen Zhaoqing felt the suffocating weight upon her seemingly alleviate.

In Shen Zhaoqing’s eyes, which typically held a hint of tipsiness and languor, all emotion receded, leaving behind only an utterly glacial serenity.

Having dealt with Li Wuxia, Qu Hanpo glanced at Gu Chang’an, who was battling fiercely, shoulder wounded, and relentlessly assailed by several bandits nearby. He then turned his full attention back to Shen Zhaoqing.

He intended to savor his vengeance, slowly, meticulously, tormenting the prey that had caused him repeated frustrations.

He advanced step by step, looking down at her from his height, as if she were a lamb awaiting slaughter.

“Little servant, now, who else can…”

His words caught in his throat.

For he saw the girl, who should have been trembling and begging for mercy, slowly lift her head.

What kind of eyes were those?

There was no fear, no pleading, no despair.

Only a dead calm, a bottomless abyss burning with golden flames.

Under the gaze of that abyss, Qu Hanpo even harbored the unsettling illusion that *he* was the prey.

Shen Zhaoqing moved.

She did not go to Li Wuxia, who lay fallen, nor did she look at Gu Chang’an, who was trapped in a bitter struggle.

She simply took a step, then another, walking towards Qu Hanpo, steadily and deliberately.

Her footsteps were firm, neither fast nor slow.

Each step seemed to land on the beating hearts of everyone present.

The past terrors and the stench of blood from the wine carriage still churned in her mind.

But an unprecedented fury, like the strongest wine, burned all that fear to ashes.

She looked at Qu Hanpo, her voice soft, yet chillingly clear.

“You.”

“Should not have touched them.”