Chapter 28: An Unlikely Alliance and a Desperate Hope

The wind in the valley carried a metallic, rusty scent, clinging stickily to one’s face.

Li Wuxia’s body was frigid, like a block of ice that refused to warm. Only the continuous warmth flowing from the wound on her back reminded Shen Zhaoqing that this was not a dream.

“What are you all standing around for!?” A piercing shriek shattered the eerie silence.

It came from the remaining Demonic Cultivators of the Black Wind Fortress and the private soldiers brought by the Qinghe Li family.

Qu Hanpo had been blasted to smithereens, and Li Ruan’yan seemed intent on fleeing. Their subordinates were instantly orphaned, left without a leader.

The primal instinct for survival swiftly overwhelmed their fear.

“Kill that woman! She must be out of strength!”

“Yes! Capture her, and we’ll have a way out!”

The second-in-command of Black Wind Fortress, his face marred by a scar, now had bloodshot eyes. He pinned all his hopes on what appeared to be their most vulnerable point.

They were not foolish; they understood precisely who would make the most effective hostage in their current predicament.

Shen Zhaoqing, the culprit who had just instantly killed their leader, was now holding someone, clearly at the end of her tether!

If they could just capture her as a hostage…

“Charge!”

In an instant, the remaining dozens of individuals, like hyenas scenting blood, surged forward madly from all directions, pouncing towards the slender figure cradling the young girl in the center of the valley!

Flashes of blades and glints of swords, interwoven with foul Demonic Energy, formed a vast net of death.

Shen Zhaoqing slowly lifted her head, her pupils reflecting those distorted and greedy faces.

She yearned to move, but her strength had utterly failed her.

The person in her arms felt impossibly heavy. She could only watch helplessly as that menacing net drew closer and closer.

However, in that very moment, two figures moved.

There were no words exchanged, no glances shared.

Not even a single superfluous movement.

One was a azure sword light, as pure and cold as the moon.

One was a blood-red demonic flame, as enchanting and fierce as fire. Gu Chang’an and Ling Shuangjue, these two sworn enemies who, just a moment ago, would have gladly bashed each other’s brains out, now displayed an almost uncanny tacit understanding.

Their objective was strikingly unified.

“Swish!”

Gu Chang’an was wounded, her True Essence depleted, yet her sword remained the Frostbright, blindingly fast and utterly cold.

She didn’t even employ any ornate sword techniques, only the simplest thrusts, parries, slashes, and chops.

Her figure became an azure afterimage amidst the crowd. Each flicker was accompanied by the blossoming of a blood flower.

Gu Chang’an’s silhouette had already appeared ten meters behind her target, her longsword returning to its sheath without a single drop of blood staining it.

Her sword was a weapon of killing, yet also a weapon of protection.

At this moment, with the coldest slaughter, she drew an insurmountable line of death before Shen Zhaoqing.

If Gu Chang’an’s massacre was a serene, emotionless requiem,

Then Ling Shuangjue’s performance was a magnificent opera, brimming with destructive aesthetics.

It was impossible to discern how she moved. One only saw a white robe and a red cloak, floating like a phantom into the fray.

She didn’t even draw her Abyssal Slaughter Sword.

She merely raised her pale, slender hand, adorned with obsidian finger guards.

Then, with a gentle flick.

“Pfft.”

A tiny, nail-sized blood-red flame shot from her fingertip, drifting lightly onto a Black Wind Fortress soldier who was charging at the front. The small flame, upon contact, instantly swelled like a spark doused with oil, exploding violently!

“Aaaahhhhhh—!”

A shriek, inhumanly shrill, echoed through the valley.

In the blink of an eye, a living person, along with their magic robe and the weapon in their hand, was incinerated into primal ashes, leaving not even a speck.

This was merely the beginning.

Ling Shuangjue strolled through the crowd as if in a leisurely garden.

Each time she raised her hand, each time she flicked a finger, a blood-red rose bloomed silently upon some unfortunate soul.

And then, the aria of death.

“Devil! She’s a devil!”

“Run! Run away!”

How the hell were they supposed to fight this?

They wanted to flee.

But they soon discovered, in despair, that at some unknown point, they had been surrounded.

Azure sword light blocked the left.

Blood-red demonic flames sealed off the right.

Gu Chang’an and Ling Shuangjue, one on the left, one on the right, one azure, one red, stood like two unassailable guardian deities, transforming this small area into a desperate slaughterhouse.

Their positioning was incredibly subtle, perfectly shielding Shen Zhaoqing and Li Wuxia in the safest center, formed by their back-to-back stance.

Still, there was no communication between them.

Yet Gu Chang’an’s sword invariably and precisely cut down any stragglers attempting to slip through the gaps in Ling Shuangjue’s flames.

And Ling Shuangjue’s demonic flames would always “accidentally” burn away the fools attempting to ambush Gu Chang’an from behind.

This unspoken understanding made Ning Jihe, watching from afar, twitch at the corners of her eyes.

The number one Sword Immortal of the righteous path, and the number one Demonic Venerable of the demonic path, joining forces back-to-back to slaughter a bunch of weaklings? If news of this spread, the entire Three Pure Dao Alliance would be utterly humiliated.

It was preposterous!

Ning Jihe felt a splitting headache coming on.

The slaughter did not last long.

When the last Qinghe Li family private soldier was impaled through the brow by Gu Chang’an’s sword and pinned to the ground, the entire valley finally returned to a deathly silence.

The air was thick with the mingled scents of blood and char, so dense it almost seemed to drip.

Broken, incomplete corpses littered the ground, alongside piles and piles of humanoid ashes.

Gu Chang’an twirled her sword. The Frostbright Sword hummed with a clear, resonant sound as the bloodstains on its blade slid off on their own, leaving it pristine once more.

Ling Shuangjue, still somewhat unsatisfied, retracted her hand, a wisp of blood flame slowly extinguishing from her fingertip. They remained still, standing back-to-back.

The mountain wind swept through, lifting Gu Chang’an’s azure robes and Ling Shuangjue’s blood-red cloak. For a moment, it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.

“You’ve crossed a line.”

Gu Chang’an’s cold voice was the first to break the silence. Her gaze remained fixed forward; she did not turn around.

“Oh?” Ling Shuangjue chuckled softly, her voice carrying a hint of lazy huskiness. “On this Venerable One’s territory, what boundary is there to speak of?”

“She is with the Qingyun Sect,” Gu Chang’an’s voice was devoid of ripples, yet held an unyielding conviction, “she is therefore under my sword’s protection.”

“Yours?” Ling Shuangjue laughed as if she had heard the greatest joke, her body trembling with mirth. “Little girl, have you asked her? Have you asked this Venerable One?”

“Anything this Venerable One sets her eyes on has always, and will always, belong solely to this Venerable One.”

The moment her words fell, the atmosphere between the two instantly plummeted to freezing point.

Tension mounted.

An explosion was imminent.

Just then, a faint, almost imperceptible spatial fluctuation flickered across the other side of the valley.

Ling Shuangjue and Gu Chang’an both sensed it simultaneously, glancing in that direction.

“Quite the quick escape,” Ling Shuangjue scoffed, retracting her gaze.

It was Li Ruan’yan, the matriarch of the Qinghe Li family. She had long since crushed a life-saving Evasion Talisman and made her getaway while they were clearing the area.

However, no one cared about her now.

The temporary alliance had concluded.

A new battleground was about to unfold.

Meanwhile, Shen Zhaoqing, at the eye of the storm, finally regained a shred of her own consciousness from the blank chaos.

She did not look at the two formidable cultivators, their auras fully unleashed.

She merely lowered her head, extending a trembling finger to gently probe the tip of the young girl’s nose in her arms.

There, she could barely feel any rise and fall of breath anymore.