Chapter 80: The Two Sides Meet

Five months of time passed in the blink of an eye.

Inside the secluded cave dwelling, spiritual energy swirled thickly, silent and undisturbed.

Thirty-two Jinli Ember Moon Swords floated around Jiuyou.

Golden light flowed along the sword bodies, and their razor-sharp aura carved faint ripples into the very air.

Every single sword had been fully refined, its spiritual nature now fused seamlessly with his magical power, with not a trace of rejection remaining.

Jiuyou raised his hand and made a grasping motion.

The thirty-two spiritual swords contracted abruptly, swirling and weaving above his head, vaguely forming an incomplete sword formation.

Though the formation was unfinished, sword energy already surged outward like a tide, carving deep gashes into the stone walls.

The power was formidable.

If all eighty-one swords were complete, that would be something else entirely. Even a Late Nascent Soul cultivator might not be his match.

Unfortunately, Jinli Stones had vanished without a trace, leaving no way to supplement the sword count. For now, he would have to make do.

He withdrew the spiritual swords and closed his eyes to inspect his internal state.

Within his dantian sea of qi, the Nascent Soul sat at the center, its form increasingly solid and full, surrounded by a thick, pure aura of primordial spiritual light.

Having refined that young man's Nascent Soul essence, combined with the souls he had devoured in previous battles, his cultivation had advanced so rapidly that even he felt somewhat surprised.

If he devoured the essence of a few more Nascent Soul cultivators, he would soon step into the mid-stage pinnacle, and even setting his sights on Late Nascent Soul was not out of reach.

A faint gleam of indifferent light flashed through Jiuyou's eyes, his mind utterly unruffled.

Cultivation was, after all, a path of seizing heaven's fortune and plundering the essence of all things. The strong devouring the weak had always been the iron law of the cultivation world.

He rose slowly, standing with his hands clasped behind his back within the cave, his gaze piercing through the Prohibition Mark and toward the distant horizon.

War was imminent. As one of the foremost figures among Mid-Nascent Soul cultivators, his strength was sufficient to stand firm on the high-tier battlefield, and he had naturally been included in the core combat list.

For this battle, the three overseeing grand cultivators had each agreed to issue twenty top-grade Spirit Stones as compensation.

Jiuyou had accepted without the slightest hesitation.

Spirit Stones and such weren't important. The main thing was that he could take the opportunity to probe the true foundations and trump cards of this continent's high-tier cultivators.

Several days later, aboard the enormous flying vessel.

Thirteen Mid-Nascent Soul cultivators had all gathered here.

Jiuyou swept his gaze across them. All familiar faces.

Blood Sea True Person, Yin Gu the Old Fiend, Mo Tiancheng, Wei Kun... plus himself, that made exactly thirteen.

Each had different attire and different magical treasures, hailing from various major sects and forces of the Abyssal Sea. They stood in silence now, their overwhelming pressure of spirit interweaving and merging into a heavy, suffocating atmosphere.

Those who could cultivate to Mid-Nascent Soul were all battle-hardened, decisive killers, their hands stained with blood, having endured countless life-and-death tribulations.

But everyone knew full well that today's battle was utterly different from past sect clashes and beast subjugations.

Gu Xuanzhou stood at the very front, his purple robe billowing, his expression composed.

"Set off."

No superfluous words. As his voice fell, he transformed into a streak of deep purple light and shot into the sky.

Following close behind, thirteen more streaks of light in various colors rose one after another, tearing across the heavens as they sped deep into the Lingchuan continent, moving so fast that only afterimages remained.

Yifeng Valley, located in the heart of the Northern Heaven Alliance's core territory, was precisely the critical junction between the Abyssal Sea and Lingchuan Coalition Forces.

The terrain here was open and flat, surrounded by mountains on all sides. Powerful winds howled ceaselessly through the valley year-round, which was how it had earned its name.

Along the way, Gu Xuanzhou suddenly sent a voice transmission.

"Fellow Daoists, I only reveal this now, before our departure, strictly to prevent any leak of information."

All the cultivators felt a chill run through their hearts as they silently awaited what came next.

"This so-called high-tier duel agreed upon by both armies is nothing but a smokescreen. The three of us have another plan."

Gu Xuanzhou's voice was calm, yet carried a cold edge.

"Nearly half of the high-tier combat power from the Lingchuan continent's four major alliances is currently gathered in Yifeng Valley. This place is the critical node of the conflict between our two armies. If we can use this opportunity to wipe out their high-tier cultivators in one fell swoop, the remaining low-tier cultivators will pose no threat. The outcome of this war will be decided."

He paused, then continued in a deep voice.

"To guard against any eventuality, this battle will deploy the Connate Spirit Treasure, the Demon Purification Platform. It conceals three layers of Prohibition Marks, belonging to the killing, trapping, and illusion formations respectively. The trapping formation locks enemies in place, the illusion formation disrupts their souls, and the killing formation extinguishes all life. The three interlock, providing both offense and defense."

"Previously, when resisting the Beast Tide, I only activated a fragment of the incomplete killing formation and effortlessly slew the Tier 10 Heaven Flood Dragon King. You should all have heard of its might. Now, with the complete Demon Purification Platform activated at full power, dealing with the Lingchuan continent's high-tier cultivators will be more than sufficient."

As he spoke, Gu Xuanzhou's gaze swept briefly across Jiuyou before quickly withdrawing, his expression unchanging.

Jiuyou's heart tightened.

There was no fair duel, no arena showdown.

From start to finish, this had been a meticulously laid killing trap!

The so-called thirteen high-tier duels were nothing more than bait to lure the Lingchuan continent's high-tier cultivators into one place, with the goal of devouring all of Lingchuan's core combat strength in a single strike and completely severing their foundations!

He swept his peripheral gaze across those around him. The expressions of the various old fiends differed—some had a glint of excited bloodlust in their eyes, some frowned slightly in deliberation—but not one person voiced doubt or opposition.

At this point, no one could back out.

Before long.

Yifeng Valley came into view in the distance.

A thin black line first appeared on the horizon, then the line swelled into a black tide.

That was the battleship formation of the Lingchuan Coalition Forces, too many to count, blanketing half the sky.

Banners stood like a forest, snapping and fluttering in the wind. The totems embroidered upon them seemed almost alive, breathing spiritual light.

Even before drawing close, one could feel the towering pressure of spirit emanating from the valley.

That pressure had condensed into a tangible form, like an invisible great wall spanning between heaven and earth.

The air grew thick and viscous, making even breathing feel heavier.

The banners of the four great alliances fluttered noisily across the valley's four sides.

Beneath the banners were densely packed formations of cultivators.

At a glance, heads bobbed and swayed, spiritual light spreading like an ocean.

Multicolored spiritual lights interwove, tearing the clouds above the valley to shreds and vaporizing them into nothingness.

Jiuyou gazed into the distance, taking in the full picture of the enemy's camp.

Within the Lingchuan Coalition camp, cultivators from the four alliances wore varied attire, their magical treasures and spirit beasts an eclectic assortment.

Their formation was loose, each sect and faction fighting on its own terms.

Though each individual unit was not weak, overall they lacked the tightly-woven cohesion of the Abyssal Sea Allied Forces.

The Lingchuan continent had enjoyed ten thousand years of peace, rarely experiencing all-out continental warfare. Cultivators from all sides were accustomed only to sporadic sect conflicts and had never faced a grand confrontation of hundreds of thousands of cultivators.

The Abyssal Sea Allied Forces, by contrast, had endured constant Beast Tide invasions from the Tianyuan Sea for generations. Through countless bloody battles, military discipline and formation drills had been carved deep into their very bones.

Out in the void beyond the valley, thousands of Abyssal Sea warships stood in orderly formation, a dark and dense mass, solemn and forbidding.

Runic cannon muzzles gleamed faintly on the hulls, murderous intent lurking beneath.

Below, the low-tier cultivator formations were perfectly uniform, with disciples from each sect fulfilling their designated roles, their positions without a hair's breadth of deviation. Their spiritual lights connected to one another, their qi interlinked, forming a seamless whole.

Several dozen Golden Core Cultivators stood before the formations holding command flags, occasionally waving to adjust the ranks, advancing and retreating with perfect coordination and flawless order.

The entire Abyssal Sea army was like a precise, cold killing machine, standing in silence, a suffocating aura of slaughter enveloping the surrounding land.

Jiuyou stood at the rear of the Abyssal Sea high-tier cultivator column, his expression indifferent while his thoughts churned.

In this confrontation, cultivators from both sides had converged here, totaling over a hundred thousand.

But he knew well that in a battle of this magnitude, no matter how many low-tier cultivators there were, they could only serve as cannon fodder to bolster numbers. What truly determined the course of battle and decided victory or defeat had always been the high-tier cultivators hidden at the front lines.

Jiuyou's Divine Sense extended like fine threads, sweeping silently across the enemy camp, probing each person's aura, cultivation level, and possible trump cards.

At the head of the Northern Heaven Alliance stood a man with a face as fair as jade, holding a horsetail whisk whose bristles flowed with spiritual light, his aura steady and composed.

Flanking him were two others—one carried an ancient sword on his back, its sheath carved with dense runes; the other wore a bronze bell at his waist, its surface gleaming with a dark gold light.

The three from the Southern Heaven Alliance were led by a man with crimson hair and a red beard, cradling a ball of dancing flame in his palm.

On his left and right stood two more—one gripping a fiery red whip, the other draped in a cape of crimson feathers.

The Myriad Immortals Alliance had the most eclectic group of four, comprising a monk, a Taoist, and two secular cultivators.

Their leader was a white-browed old monk holding prayer beads, each bead the size of a fist, their spiritual light restrained and subtle.

The three from the Heavenly Demon Alliance were all clad in black robes.

Their leader had a pale face with a single black mole between his brows, faint wisps of dark mist coiling around his body.

The other two—one held a bone staff with a skull embedded in its head; from the other's sleeve came the faint chirping of insects.

Jiuyou withdrew his Divine Sense, committing these faces to memory.

Whether or not they fought today, these were his potential enemies.

At the valley mouth, the wind grew stronger.

The two armies faced off, their spiritual lights interweaving into a single shimmering tapestry.

On the Abyssal Sea side, the pressure of spirit was like a solid slab of iron, heavy and immovable, distorting the very air before them.

On the Lingchuan side, though their spiritual lights were scattered, they converged like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, majestic and imposing, refusing to back down.

The clouds hung low in the sky, torn into countless shreds, dyed in a rainbow of colors by the spiritual light.

Neither side spoke first.

Behind the Abyssal Sea Allied Forces, Gu Xuanzhou stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze steady as an abyss.

Before the Lingchuan Coalition Forces, that grand cultivator wore a grim expression.

This time, both sides had agreed to each dispatch one late-stage grand cultivator to oversee the proceedings.

On the surface, it was a duel. In secret, both sides were waiting for an opportunity.

One side fought with their backs to the wall, with no room to retreat.

Behind them was the blood-mist-shrouded Tianyuan Sea, a homeland they could never return to. Their only path was forward—to carve out a way to live.

The other side had a duty to defend their territory, refusing to yield a single inch.

Behind them were their sects, their families, tens of thousands of years of legacy. Determination was written in every single person's eyes.

Jiuyou withdrew his gaze and closed his eyes to rest.

He knew that this battle, win or lose, would rewrite the entire landscape of the Lingchuan continent.