Li Dongyue stopped in her tracks and looked up. They were surrounded. Though her face remained calm, her heart was pounding.
How could there be so many from the Demonic Sect?
All around, the streets where the disciples of Qingxiao Sect stood had been completely encircled. The number of Demonic Sect warriors had already surpassed one thousand, and it was still growing. From above, it looked like swarms of black ants crawling over rooftops and courtyard walls—each holding a blade, their eyes gleaming with cold malice.
"How could a sect that was already destroyed have so many people left…" Zhao Linglong murmured to herself, frowning deeply.
She had felt uneasy ever since hearing that the prefectural capital had fallen. Now a far worse suspicion was forming in her mind.
"These men have military training."
The calm, cold voice came from Li Yang. His tone was even, but his expression was grim and steady—gone was his usual confident air.
Zhao Linglong's face changed slightly at his words. There was worry in her eyes.
Zhang Yuchun swept his gaze over the Demonic Sect's encirclement. His face hardened, but there was no trace of panic. Raising his hand, he signaled, and the true disciples who had already stepped into the Nurturing Essence Realm quickly dispersed to the edges of the formation. Each drew their weapon and took position, ready for battle.
Jiang Zhaoxia's gaze shifted upward to a tall building ahead—a six-story inn. Its lanterns still swayed at the eaves, crooked and dusty, but faint traces of its former grandeur remained.
And on the rooftop stood a solitary figure—
The Demon Emperor.
One of his hands dangled at his side, dragging something heavy. When he reached the edge of the roof, he lifted it into view. It was a man.
It was the Divine Monk of the Chanding Temple, Taihang. His body was drenched in blood, limbs broken and dangling helplessly.
The Demon Emperor held him aloft with one hand, his eyes cold as he gazed down upon the crowd of Qingxiao disciples below.
In the blink of an eye, the number of Demonic Sect fighters surged again—another one thousand, totaling over two thousand.
The pressure on Qingxiao Sect grew unbearable. Even the carefree Li Sifeng instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.
"Where is the Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect?"
The Demon Emperor's voice rolled across the street like thunder. "When two sects go to war, it's only proper that their leaders face each other."
His tone was deep and chilling, sending a wave of cold fear through many hearts. Every Qingxiao disciple who looked upon him felt an instinctive terror.
Something about this man was different from all the other Demonic Sect warriors.
Jiang Zhaoxia's brows furrowed. Without thinking, he started forward, intent on confronting the Demon Emperor himself.
"Master, wait! Don't be rash—the disciples are still behind us!" Xue Jin shouted, his voice tense.
Jiang Zhaoxia froze for a moment, then clenched his fists in frustration. He could only stop. It burned his pride that the Demon Emperor had so clearly ignored him.
Just then, a sharp cry tore through the sky.
All eyes lifted instinctively. From the clouds above, a massive shadow dove downward—a giant eagle, its wings cutting through the clouds like blades.
The sight threw the ranks of the two thousand Demonic Sect warriors into chaos. They had never seen such a colossal bird before.
Xiao Ba swooped down, landing heavily in the middle of the street before Jiang Zhaoxia. With each beat of its wings, a roaring gale tore through the air, sending debris flying and forcing the nearby Demonic Sect fighters to retreat instinctively.
And standing upon its back—was Li Qingqiu.
His left hand rested lightly on the hilt of the Tianhong Sword. His expression was calm, his gaze locked coldly on the Demon Emperor.
"That eagle… it's turned into a demon beast!" someone from the Demonic Sect gasped.
"Who is that man? He descended from the heavens…"
"Could he be an immortal?"
"Don't be fooled! Daoist Wei is the only true immortal!"
"He's the Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect? No wonder the sect rose so quickly…"
Li Qingqiu's arrival struck the Demonic Sect like thunder. None of them had ever seen such a figure—riding a giant eagle out of the clouds, his presence alone shaking their hearts.
Even the disciples of Qingxiao Sect were awestruck.
Only a few of them had ever witnessed their Sect Master standing on Xiao Ba's back. For most, this was their first time seeing it with their own eyes. They had always heard tales of their Sect Master's strength, but now those tales felt real—too real.
When they entered the city earlier, many had wondered why the Sect Master hadn't been with them. Now they understood.
Li Yang, Zhao Linglong, and Su Xiling had seen this once before—but even the second time, the sight still left them speechless.
They couldn't help but wonder: just how powerful was their Sect Master? And was that eagle truly a beast—or a spirit born from cultivation?
For Jiang Zhaoxia, this was the first time seeing Li Qingqiu arrive in such a way. Even with all his pride, he had to admit—no matter how perfect his own Art of Sword Control had become, he couldn't match his senior brother's commanding aura.
It felt as if, with every passing year, the distance between them only grew wider.
Li Qingqiu looked calmly at the Demon Emperor. He recognized the man instantly.
From Lin Chuan's memories, he remembered this same Demon Emperor hunting him and Lin Xunfeng. Lin Chuan had died on that journey, struck down by this man's poisoned palm.
Over a decade had passed—sixteen years, to be exact—and the man before him had only grown more terrifying, his cultivation far beyond what Lin Chuan remembered.
Perched on Li Qingqiu's shoulder, Lin Chuan's spectral form stared at the Demon Emperor, his twisted face full of rage, his eyes glowing crimson. Fortunately, no one else could see his ghostly visage.
"It's been almost sixteen years," the Demon Emperor said with a mocking laugh. "Back then, I spared Lin Xunfeng on purpose—wanted him to live long enough to taste the pain of helplessness. And what did he do? Went off chasing immortality!"
He sneered, voice dripping with disdain. "How ridiculous. Did he really think finding an immortal would change the fact that his son died in his arms?"
His words cut like daggers.
Jiang Zhaoxia, Zhang Yuchun, Li Dongyue, Li Sifeng, and Li Sijin all froze, rage flaring in their eyes. Even Wu Man'er, usually carefree, looked like a raging beast barely holding itself back.
Though they rarely spoke of Lin Xunfeng, he was always in their hearts.
To them, Lin Xunfeng was more than their former master—he was their father in all but name.
And now, hearing the truth of his son's death from the Demon Emperor's own mouth, the killing intent in every Qingxiao disciple surged like a storm.
The Demon Emperor released his grip, and the nearly lifeless Divine Monk of the Chanding Temple, Taihang, plummeted to the ground, crashing onto the street with a sickening thud. No one could tell if he was still alive.
Then, the Demon Emperor slowly raised both hands. A scorching wave of heat burst from his body, distorting the air around him. Flames ignited in his palms, and his entire figure rose into the sky.
The disciples of Qingxiao Sect stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
This was no mere lightness skill—it was flight. True flight. None of them had ever seen such a thing.
Cheng Canghai gawked from a rooftop, looking as if he had just seen a ghost.
The Demon Emperor floated in the air, his hands blazing like two miniature suns. His aura surged higher and higher, the heat rolling off him in waves so fierce that even the nearby Demonic Sect warriors stumbled back, shielding their faces.
'What kind of martial art is this?'
A savage gleam flashed through the Demon Emperor's eyes. He suddenly lunged toward Li Qingqiu like a burning meteor tearing across the sky.
Li Qingqiu moved at the same instant. His figure split into afterimages as he leapt from Xiao Ba's back, meeting the Demon Emperor's charge head-on.
Boom!
Two forces collided midair with earth-shattering power. The impact unleashed a shockwave that rippled across the entire street. Roof tiles exploded from buildings. Dust and debris swirled through the air. The trees along the roadside trembled violently, nearly uprooted.
Behind his mask, the Demon Emperor's eyes widened in shock. Li Qingqiu's expression didn't change. His right arm trembled slightly, then unleashed a surge of vast, unstoppable vital energy.
The blast sent the Demon Emperor flying like a broken doll. Blood spurted from his mouth as his hat and mask were flung in opposite directions. He smashed into the street below, cracking the ground open and leaving a crater in his wake.
The impact made even the Demonic Sect warriors on rooftops and walls feel the tremor beneath their feet.
Silence fell.
Everyone was frozen. The Demon Emperor—so revered among his followers, so feared by the martial world—had been defeated in a single exchange. Even Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning felt their hearts quake.
One palm. Just one palm.
Li Qingqiu landed lightly back on Xiao Ba's back, his robes billowing in the wind.
"The Great Sun Pure Yang Art truly deserves its name," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. "But in your hands, it's nothing but a disgrace."
A hulking Demonic Sect warrior suddenly raised his halberd high and roared, "Kill! Kill them all!"
The shout ignited chaos. Over two thousand Demonic Sect warriors charged like a flood of blades, converging on the street in a murderous tide.
Li Qingqiu crouched slightly and patted Xiao Ba's head. Then he leapt down, landing lightly on the cracked stone road, and began walking toward the fallen Demon Emperor.
Xiao Ba turned with a shriek and launched into battle, its massive wings beating gales that sent Demonic Sect warriors flying like leaves.
And with that, the great battle erupted in full.
Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning charged in opposite directions, their movements faster than any of the others. Before most disciples could even draw their blades, they were already cutting through the enemy ranks.
Li Yang, who had been straining to contain his fury, finally exploded into motion. In one step, he was at the courtyard wall. He pushed off with his right foot, vaulted onto the roof, and lunged forward with his spear.
The spear shot out like lightning. It pierced through a Demonic Sect warrior's throat and burst from the back of his neck. Blood poured down the gleaming shaft as the man collapsed lifelessly.
Zhao Linglong saw the merciless precision of his strike and finally felt relieved. Li Yang had cast aside his restraint—he was now a true warrior, ready to kill without hesitation.
She didn't stand still either. With her whip in hand, she moved among the Qingxiao disciples, cutting down any enemy that dared approach.
Meanwhile, Li Qingqiu reached the edge of the crater where the Demon Emperor had fallen. The man now lay in a pool of his own blood, barely clinging to life.
His mask was gone, revealing a pale, strikingly handsome face. Even with his hair turned white, he didn't look old—only drained and hollow.
He looked up at Li Qingqiu, his eyes trembling with fear.
"Who… what are you…?" he rasped. Blood bubbled at his lips. His organs were shattered, his breath fading fast.
Li Qingqiu looked down at him expressionlessly. "Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect—Li Qingqiu."
The Demon Emperor's face twisted with rage, as though the name itself was an insult. But then, his anger gave way to weary resignation.
"So be it… I knew there would be retribution…" he murmured weakly. "You people of the martial world… You know the fight is hopeless, and yet you come anyway…"
"Heavenly Saber Sect, Xuan Dang Sect, Chanding Temple… all the same…"
"Li Qingqiu, you don't understand who your enemy truly is. You and your Qingxiao Sect can't change this world. Before the dynasty, the martial world is nothing but dust…"
His words broke off. His head fell to the side. He was dead.
Behind Li Qingqiu, the battle still raged. Yet none of the Demonic Sect dared rush toward him.
He reached back and touched Lin Chuan, who immediately understood. The ghostly spirit leapt from his shoulder and pounced onto the Demon Emperor's corpse.
A black shadow burst from within the body—a spectral fox spirit, screeching as it tried to escape. But Lin Chuan's claws clamped down, pinning it in place.
That was the true reason Li Qingqiu had taken action himself. In pure martial strength, the Demon Emperor was no match for Jiang Zhaoxia—but the creature within him was something else entirely. Jiang had not yet learned any art capable of revealing or subduing spirits.
As Li Qingqiu watched the struggling black fox, his expression remained calm, though his eyes gleamed with intrigue.
This confirmed his suspicion—Daoist Wei, the so-called "immortal" of the Demonic Sect, was far from ordinary.
The Demon Emperor had merely been his puppet. The real root of this chaos in Guzhou was still hidden in the shadows.