Chapter 49: Avoiding Its Edge?

The sect masters, seeing Chu Huaizhou’s arrival, weren’t surprised and nodded in acknowledgment.

If he hadn’t shown, his precious disciples might’ve perished.
But what could he do to save them?

They assumed Chu Sword Immortal was compromised, his options limited.
Normally, he’d easily dispatch such a bizarre demon, but now? Doubtful.

Chu Huaizhou stood with hands behind his back, his black sword robe billowing in the fierce wind, exuding an aura of myriad sword qi weaving through the air.
His icy, starlit sword eyes seemed to reflect the cosmos, captivating and subduing onlookers.

Bai Li clung motionless to his back, her nine tails swaying like a majestic cape in the wind.
Yes—another of Bai Li’s enhanced illusions.
She smirked inwardly, proud.

Hmph, only I, who knows Human so well, could make his dazed, amnesiac eyes look this cool!

To an unaware cultivator, he might pass for the Phantom Beast Abyss Pavilion master.
And indeed, Xia Wujie, the pavilion master, eyed the early Great Vehicle nine-tailed fox with envy.

Compared to his Body Integration-stage purple-gold hou, which needed a secret art to merge and reach Great Vehicle strength, cultivating a Great Vehicle spiritual beast was a monumental task.
Gu aside—those symbiotic, near-mindless creatures didn’t count.

The hou stared at Bai Li’s pristine form, yearning.

The sect masters awaited Chu Huaizhou’s move to tackle the unfathomable extraterrestrial demon.
But Chu Huaizhou, beneath his stoic facade, was reeling.

Weren’t we fighting Calamity Plague Emperor?
What’s that twisted rectangular thing in the center, not even remotely humanoid?!

After further transformation, the demon was more horrific.
No longer a creature, it was warped, stretched, and defiled by an incomprehensible force into a perfectly rectangular yet grotesquely distorted outline.

Inky black mist oozed from its “body,” sizzling with teeth-grinding sounds.
Where it passed, space itself seemed to dissolve, leaving charred, cracked void traces.

Worse, its interior wasn’t flesh or bone but… a deep, swirling, flowing miniature starfield!
Countless stars—bright, dim, near, far—floated and flickered, radiating cold, dead, indifferent light.

Though outwardly a Tribulation-stage master, Chu Huaizhou was a Golden Core cultivator in memory.
To him, “sect spars” or “secret realm treasure hunts” were big deals.

Facing this unimaginable, dao-heart-shattering “great terror,” not screaming or collapsing was already a feat of willpower.

Run! Run now! Get as far from this thing as possible!
The thought gnawed like a parasite, echoing wildly.
No one could face this without fear.

But he couldn’t flee.

His gaze struggled past the rectangular starfield monster to his two struggling disciples.

Leng Qingqiu, the aloof, all-controlling ice empress, was pale as paper, her ice dragon-phoenix aura dim, each sword swing heavy.
Her body trembled under the terrifying pressure and corrosive mist.

Xia Baiqian fared worse—her combat relied on gu, now uncontrollable due to the demon’s influence.
Maintaining her stance drained her, her petite frame frail as a mayfly before the terror.

If he fled, he’d never see his disciples again.
But facing that horror? His body shook uncontrollably.

[Bai Li, I need to prepare. Can your illusion make others see me standing here?]

Bai Li, sensing probing divine senses from all directions, felt the pressure.

[Meow? I can, but my illusion won’t fool those old foxes’ senses for long—one incense stick at most! Any longer, we’re exposed, meow!]

[Human, can you handle that thing? Qingqiu’s nearly late Great Vehicle and giving it her all—she’s barely holding on. I… I probably can’t beat it…]

Chu Huaizhou’s throat tightened, swallowing a rusty taste.
Fear threatened to drown him like icy tides.
But a heavier weight—“Master’s duty” and his protective love for his treasured disciples—anchored his fleeing instincts.

[It’s fine. Cast the illusion. I’ll handle that thing!]

His words lacked confidence.
Even with an eighth-grade pill, he’d only regain Tribulation-stage power for a few breaths.
If he couldn’t defeat the transformed, terrifyingly powerful demon in that time, he’d face the wrath of the immortal and demonic sects—dire consequences.

Bai Li’s illusion cloaked a three-meter radius around them.
Chu Huaizhou dropped his facade, collapsing to his knees in midair, trembling, face ashen.

Then, he raised a hand.

Slap!

He struck his own face hard.
Every cell screamed against protecting his disciples, but he had to try.

Gazing at Leng Qingqiu and Xia Baiqian, still fighting to slay the demon, he recalled their bond.

After every sect mission, Leng Qingqiu waited at the gate, turning away haughtily:

“I was just passing by. Take this coat—you look filthy, hardly a master.”

Late-night sword practice, Xia Baiqian and Meng Yinlu would bring chicken soup, beaming:

“Master, don’t overwork! Try our special tonic soup!”

These kids, raised with his blood and sweat, hadn’t even repaid him with filial care—how could they fall here?
What a loss that’d be!

Psyching himself up, he pulled a yellow talisman from his ring.
Activating it with spiritual energy, it burst, revealing a pill glowing with five-colored light—an eighth-grade Five Elements Divine Restoration Pill!

Avoid its edge? No way!