Chapter 84: Toward Death, Toward Life

Let alone the Golden Core demonic cultivators above, who showed no signs of faltering, the captives were malnourished, half-crippled cultivators unable to draw on heaven-and-earth spiritual energy. Even if they broke through the demonic cultivators’ encirclement, how could they escape? They had neither a map of the Youming Sect nor the secret incantations to exit.

Yet, these blood-sucking demonic cultivators, masked and cold, felt a surge of scalding blood ignite in their chests—a tragic, heroic resolve! The figures, old, weak, scarred, and battered, charged like relentless waves, storming the lofty Golden Core demonic cultivators! This wasn’t rushing to death—it was rushing toward life through death!

But soon, Chu Huaizhou noticed the tide wasn’t entirely one-sided. Though the rebels were frail, their combat strength limited, the Golden Core demonic cultivators seemed intent on preserving their captives’ bodies for maximum ritual effect, fighting with restraint. They held back, wary of breaking limbs or accidentally killing.

Meanwhile, the array, no longer fully controlled by the demonic cultivators, weakened drastically. The blood-sucking snakes dwindled, their once-sharp fangs now brittle, easily shattered by a poke. So, in a pit with over a thousand people charging a dozen Golden Core demonic cultivators, some might actually escape.

“Hahaha! Your day has come!” A sturdy old man in tattered cloth, the Kansai King, his eyes blazing with decades of pent-up rage, roared. Captured in his prime and trapped in Pit One, his hatred for these demonic cultivators was beyond words. He ripped a stone pestle from his mouth and hurled it!

“Old fool, seeking death!” A Golden Core demonic cultivator snarled, swatting him back into the pit, using a sliver of spiritual energy to cushion his fall, fearing the old man would die.

This gave the elder his chance. Crawling up, spitting blood, he shook his neck and climbed again! “Come on!”

His speed had slowed, but before he reached, two ragged men surged forward. A cook swung an iron ladle, a street performer flicked sharpened stones from his sleeve. “Don’t underestimate us! We’ve prepared for this day!”

The demonic cultivator snorted, swatting them back into the pit with controlled force, repeating the process. Then, two Foundation Establishment cultivators in filthy, unrecognizable robes flanked from the sides. While the demonic cultivator’s attention was split, they reached his blind spot.

“Look behind you, scum!” The two erupted, unleashing full spiritual power in a ferocious attack—boom! “This is my… ultimate move!!!”

But a Golden Core is a Golden Core. A sweep of divine sense revealed everything. Their long-charged spells dissolved in a toxic mist, sizzling painfully. Another wave sent them crashing back, this time without cushioning energy.

Even so, the relentless waves wore on the demonic cultivator’s mind. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “These people… are they insane?!” He gasped, staring at the ceaseless climbers below. Once ants he could crush, they now felt like lunatics!

Before today, such a scene would’ve been laughable—impossible. Yet, this played out in every pit! Why not use Golden Core pressure to suppress them outright? Possible, but it would drain their strength to collapse. Such a technique consumed immense spiritual energy, typically reserved for showing off.

These demonic cultivators weren’t fools. They knew a prolonged fight favored the rebels. Exchanging glances, they roared: “Suppress them! All of them!!”

Five held the high platforms, five descended to the pit’s base, demonic arts unleashed. They aimed to instill fear without killing, breaking the crowd’s will from within.

But they were wrong! Trapped in this sunless pit for years—some since youth—their wills were iron, unafraid of death! Their only thought: Even if I die, I’ll tear a chunk of these bastards, disgust them!

Inspired by the shouts, some numb captives stirred, eyes clearing as they read the scattered papers. Their gazes sharpened. Dragging frail bodies, they charged the demonic cultivators, forcing them to divert energy to protect, lest the rebels die in the fray.

Chu Huaizhou, curious, reached for a paper, but Bai Li leaped from his shoulder, snatching one in her mouth and hopping back. “What’s on it, meow?!”

The writing was jagged, as if scrawled in pain, detailing escape routes from the pit and a crude map to the sect’s exit, complete with secret incantations. “How… did they do this?”

A surge of hot blood stirred in Chu’s chest, urging him to join. His original plan was to bide time until Xia Baiqian finished her Anti-Youming Gu, then save the captives while killing the Youming Sect leader—responsible for endangering his disciple—and seize their alchemy research.

But now… helping these rebels felt right. Cheng Qingning, justice ablaze, had already charged, her mid-Golden Core aura unleashed, talismans wielded with precision, every ounce of power hitting demonic golems. Once hopeless about escaping, she’d agreed with Chu’s words to help as many as possible. Now, seeing hope, she gave her all, no pretense.

She fought three Golden Core demonic cultivators alone, holding her own! Her justice shone, worthy of a Black Abyss heroine, her character impeccable. But, protecting Chu and the others, she stayed in the pit, clearing local threats.

Everyone was surrounded, even the scholar who’d arrived with them, once cowering, now fought back, swinging his scroll at a pit demonic cultivator. His wife, shedding her grief, hurled stones, contributing what she could.

Yet one figure, amidst the fervor, showed no inspiration, only gritted teeth.