Arc 3: Part 8
Suddenly, the sky darkened.
A viscous, oppressive fog of blood intertwined with demonic energy surged from all directions. The ghosts and demons in the ghostly cavern issued ear-piercing shrieks, reverberating between heaven and earth, seeming to reveal a sense of excitement as if greeting the release of their master.
The disciples' faces grew visibly pale.
Beads of sweat rolled down their foreheads. As they looked up at the surging blood fog and dark clouds, they were filled with extreme terror. Their faces turned ashen and their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
With a clatter, they dropped their weapons on the ground, unable to maintain grip due to exhaustion.
Startled, Tong Su looked up and gazed in the direction where the noise was originating from.
The figure of the man gradually emerged from the thick cloud of demonic fog, blurry and indistinct. Only when he raised his hand did the blood fog and black clouds retreat obediently, as if obeying some unseen command.
Everyone was stunned.
The man approached leisurely in mid-air, dressed in black resembling ink and embroidered with large patches of blood-red flame patterns.
His black hair was scattered by the wind, and his jade-like face was as bright as the moon. His black eyes were intimidating, and his fiery eyebrow pattern was bold and piercing, extending up to his forehead.
The Chi Ming Sword with its crimson blade hung quietly by his side. The long sword pulsed within the bright flames, seemingly causing a sudden rise in the temperature of the world.
Subconsciously, Tong Su raised her head, and her eyes met those long, indifferent, and profound ones. All of a sudden, she felt as if she were plunged into a volcanic lava, a burning sensation!
The man's face was as white and crystalline as ice and snow. His delicate features seemed to be carefully crafted by a master artisan. His eyes were narrow and cool, with thick lashes casting a dull shadow, and his thin lips were lightly tinted a blood color.
Next to his right ear, hung a blood amber pendant inlaid with moon silver. The fiery pattern on his forehead was fiercely long and appeared like an oncoming blaze, attempting to burn everything into ashes.
He was not an immortal, nor a demon, but a dangerously handsome being that exuded an ultimate charm — the kind which could willingly plunge one into absolute infatuation on the precipice of death.
Tian Xuanzi.
He was the Immortal Lord Jing Yang, the number one person on the righteous path, standing at the peak of Mahayana.
Now, he was the Chi Ming demon lord, fallen from immortality into demonhood, and the sole ruler of the ghost and demon realm!
He walked in mid-air, buoyed by the wind, and slowly descended to the ground. Behind his tall silhouette was the surging fog of blood. He looked up at Tong Su and gently raised his hand.
"Ah Tong, come."
A gentle breeze sprung up beside Tong Su, urging her towards the man. The accumulated snow on the ground surged, supporting her forward.
It seemed like the demonic Qi could no longer harm her at all. She simply raised one foot, and in an instant, appeared in front of him.
"Ah Tong, there is something you are not doing well."
The disciples' faces brightened up.
Tian Xuanzi gently said, "They all want to kill you, you can kill them first."
The joy on the disciples' faces hadn't fully blossomed when it was replaced by pallor in an instant.
"Ah Tong... Ah Tong has no cultivation base, Ah Tong can't do it." Tong Su's voice was faint with anxiety.
She didn't know what her expression looked like, but her heart, out of fear, had tightened into a ball, not daring to beat too hard.
But at the same time, she had an odd intuition — that the dangerous Tian Xuanzi would absolutely not hurt her!
However, Tian Xuanzi paid no attention to the disciples prostrating on the ground. The world in his eyes seemed to contain only her. His expression was gentle, and he smiled, "Have you regained consciousness? That's great."
He raised a finger, and a string of crystal-clear sugar-coated hawthorns appeared in his hand.
However, the sugar-coated hawthorns were not made of hawthorn, but of a kind of bead the size of a longan that clearly contained terrifying energy. An almost alive pattern flowed on the surface of the bead. The bamboo stick that skewered the beads was also a strange purple-green color, with faint flashes of electricity.
Tian Xuanzi slowly lifted her hand and placed the end of the bamboo stick in her palm. His black pupils stared at her quietly, his voice soft.
"Brother was wrong, Ah Tong wanted a sugar-coated hawthorn, but it took me so long to give it to you. I searched, but there are no hawthorns here, only these few beast cores. They are red and also very beautiful. I will give them to you, is that okay?"
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