Chapter 701

“It’s you three fiends again.”

Xiao Yan looked up at the three demonically handsome men hovering above the sky, her expression calm and steady.

Over the years, as her cultivation of the Ice-element Technique deepened, her temperament had grown increasingly cold and aloof. Very few things could now stir her emotions.

So even though the Sacred Mountain’s formation was being corroded and weakened by the demonic trio’s sinister sorcery, Xiao Yan only showed a flicker of surprise before regaining her composure.

“Fairy Lu, this won’t do! Those eighteen blood-colored banners are extremely vile—we can’t destroy them!”

The moment those blood-red banners pierced into the Sacred Mountain, the three Holy Lords had immediately drawn upon the mountain’s formation to destroy them. Yet to their shock, they found each banner infused with a malicious power that not only resisted but restrained their formation’s energy.

Instead of shattering the banners, the mountain’s protective formation was steadily eroded.

“Don’t waste your efforts,” one of the demonic shadows sneered. “These Blood Fiend Soul Banners were forged specifically to break your mountain’s barrier. Once your formation falls, I’ll see what else you can do to stop us from taking the Mountain Spirit!”

“That’s right,” another jeered. “Refined through the blood sacrifice of hundreds of thousands, this demonic artifact will not yield to you. If you’re wise, kneel and surrender. Become our demonic servants, and perhaps we’ll spare your lives.”

“Fairy Lu,” the alluring demon leader said softly, “why struggle further? We must take the Mountain Spirit. Resist, and we’ll show no mercy.”

“You demons talk too much,” Xiao Yan said coolly. “If it’s a fight you want, then fight. Let’s see if you can even take half a step onto this mountain.”

The three Holy Lords exchanged looks of grim resolve. Their fates were bound to the Sacred Mountain’s soul—if it was destroyed, their own ends would be worse than death. Retreat was impossible.

“So, there’s nothing to discuss,” the charming demon said coldly. “I had thought to take you as a concubine, Fairy Lu. But since you’re so stubborn, I’ll make you a puppet instead.”

His eyes turned icy as he raised a hand, pressing down a massive black palm that blotted out the sky, dimming the mountaintop in shadow.

“Holy Lord, it seems we’ll have to risk everything,” Xiao Yan said, her tone still calm, but the First Holy Lord heard the determination behind it.

“Fairy Lu, perhaps you should retreat first,” he urged. “With your strength, they might not stop you. Their target is the Mountain Spirit, not—”

He never finished. A wave of chilling, deathly intent erupted from Xiao Yan’s body. Her aura surged, breaking past a threshold into a higher level of power.

“How can we retreat now?” she said. “If these fiends go to such lengths to seize the Mountain Spirit, they must be plotting something disastrous. If we don’t stop them, greater calamity will follow. To risk our lives—what’s there to fear?”

The First Holy Lord was stunned. Her eyes had turned as cold as glacial ice—she had clearly used a secret technique that burned her vitality to temporarily increase her strength.

Before he could speak, Xiao Yan shot into the sky. “I’ll stop them. Holy Lords, support me!”

“Big Brother, what do we do?” the Second and Third Holy Lords asked.

“What else?” the First Holy Lord smiled bitterly. “Fairy Lu is right—what’s one more fight to the death? Without the Mountain Spirit, we would’ve died long ago. Let’s use that move.”

“Understood!”

The three joined hands, forming a Three Talents Formation. A strange power began to surge between them.

“Hmph! Fools.”

The demon’s black palm had been descending slowly to crush their will, but now his patience snapped. With a cold snort, he struck in full force, and the colossal hand fell like a thunderbolt.

Xiao Yan’s sword flashed. A brilliant arc of icy sword qi slashed upward, halting the black palm mid-descent. Frost rapidly spread across the demonic energy, slowing its flow.

The demon’s expression shifted. Even without formation support, Xiao Yan could still withstand his Black Sky Demon Palm. Interesting.

Channeling more demonic energy, he shattered the frost and forced the palm down again—only for another figure to soar up beside Xiao Yan.

“Fairy Lu, allow me to assist!”

It was the First Holy Lord. His aura now nearly matched hers. He struck with a massive Glazed Law Palm that collided with the demonic palm.

The clash thundered across the heavens. Though his technique wasn’t the perfected Five-Colored Glazed Law Palm Lu Qing had once recreated, it still carried extraordinary might. Together, their combined strike shattered the demonic palm into dissipating black mist.

“My Black Sky Demon Palm—broken?!” the demonic leader exclaimed. The other two demons were equally shocked. That was a Nascent Soul–level demonic art!

Even Xiao Yan glanced at the First Holy Lord, surprised. “Your cultivation…”

“Just a merging of strength between us three. Don’t mind it. Let’s drive these fiends off first.”

He smiled faintly, though his aura wavered. Xiao Yan sensed the instability—and the weakness of the two Holy Lords below—understanding the cost of their technique. She nodded. “Then let’s kill the demons first.”

“So, you’ve mastered some unknown secret technique,” the demon sneered. “Excellent. All of it will belong to us!”

He suddenly pointed, firing a streak of black light. It was so fast that even Xiao Yan barely reacted—her sword only managed to deflect it slightly. The light pierced straight through the First Holy Lord’s chest, leaving a gaping wound.

“Holy Lord!”

Xiao Yan tried to save him, but the black light returned to strike again, forcing her to defend. At that moment, a figure flew up from below and caught the falling Holy Lord—it was Han Lingshuang.

She quickly descended with him, but her face paled. The Holy Lord’s chest was corroded by demonic qi; his organs had turned black, and his life force was fading rapidly. No talisman or pill could save him.

As despair took hold, Han Lingshuang looked up—only to see Xiao Yan struggling desperately against the black light, already on the verge of defeat. And the other two demons had yet to act.

“Is Heaven truly abandoning the righteous path?” she whispered, trembling.

Then—light split the sky.

A sword light flew from beyond the mountain—so pure it left no trace, like the path of the Dao itself. No demonic aura could detect it until it was too late.

The three demons froze as cold dread gripped their hearts. Before they could move, the sword light split into three streaks, each cutting through their bodies. Their protective demonic qi shattered like paper.

“Argh!”

Blood sprayed across the heavens.

“Who?!”

All eyes turned toward the horizon.

There, a white-haired old man in plain robes walked slowly through the air, sword in hand. Each step stirred faint ripples of sword qi that hummed through the void.

“That’s… Doctor Chen?!”

On the Sacred Mountain, Lin Zhirui gaped. “Senior Brother Zhirui, you know that elder?” a disciple asked. But Lin Zhirui couldn’t answer—he was too shocked to speak.

“Grandpa Chen…” Xiao Yan whispered, her icy mask cracking with surprise and warmth. She hadn’t expected him to come all this way.

“Good child,” Doctor Chen said gently, walking forward, “you’ve suffered enough.”

The three demons felt an overwhelming chill emanating from him and dared not move. When he reached Xiao Yan, his eyes softened at the sight of her cold, battle-worn aura. He sighed inwardly—she had endured much since the demonic calamity began.

“Grandpa Chen, why are you here? What about the village—”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Your brother is holding the formation. The village is safe.”

Her eyes lit up. “Brother!” She realized he meant the puppet body her brother cultivated within the Jade Transformation Chamber.

Doctor Chen patted her head gently. “You’ve done enough. Leave the rest to me.”

Then he turned to the three demons. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by boundless killing intent.

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