Chapter 88: Into Dire Straits

Roar!

The figures locked in mortal combat grew ever more substantial, while from the distant battlefield surged wave upon wave of ferocious demon beasts. Their savage roars shook the very heavens and earth.

A shadow wreathed in black smoke charged toward Lin Cheng, its eyes burning with blood-red light. Just one glance nearly shattered his resolve. Gritting his teeth, he raised the Heavenward Sword and unleashed a slash of sword-light; yet the instant it met the shadow, the form dispersed into mist and vanished into the melee.

Lin Cheng could not say whether it was his strike that destroyed the shadow, or if it had dissolved of its own accord. At that moment, reality and illusion blurred together.

Could it all be a hallucination?

But the blood still dripping from his wounds convinced him otherwise.

Forcing himself to remain clear-headed, he fended off the murderous figures rushing toward him, all while observing carefully.

The battlefield was a tempest of furious shouts and rallying cries, deafening in their intensity. He seemed an outsider, swept up into this war by fate.

There was no right or wrong, no enmity or vengeance—only endless slaughter.

Kill every enemy that stands before you.

On one side, an army of cultivators; on the other, shadowy figures wreathed in black smoke and red-eyed, each accompanied by a bloodthirsty, frenzied demon beast. The ranks of the shadows nearly doubled those of the cultivators, yet the two sides were deadlocked in their struggle.

A figure clad in armor and wielding a long halberd thrust at Lin Cheng with ruthless resolve. Ever vigilant, Lin Cheng dodged the strike and countered with a sweep of his sword, forcing his assailant back.

After a moment's thought, Lin Cheng called out, “We are both human cultivators—I am not your enemy...”

But the other’s eyes remained cold and unfeeling; once more the halberd stabbed toward him.

Damn it!

Lin Cheng cursed inwardly, closing in to meet his foe.

Hell, am I supposed to slaughter everyone on this battlefield?

Just as he was about to unleash his fury, Lin Cheng froze—he saw the figure he had just cleaved in two dissolve into mist, only to coalesce and rise again.

What—!

Before he could react, over a dozen shadows bore down on him from behind. Beset on all sides, Lin Cheng had no choice but to fight his way out.

Blades and swords flashed, spells rained down from the sky, and Lin Cheng’s howls of pain pierced the chaos.

After a desperate struggle, he finally broke free from the encirclement. His robes were in tatters, wounds bleeding freely, and his breathing was ragged.

Realizing he could not truly kill these foes, Lin Cheng began to panic.

This can’t go on! If it does, I’ll be whittled down and die here!

As more shadows surged toward him, Lin Cheng smashed one apart with a punch, then swiftly retreated toward the battlefield’s edge.

Here, the fighting was sparse; neither side paid him any heed.

Where is the formation point of the Four Swords?

He dismissed the idea of searching the heart of the battlefield and began to study the periphery instead.

The edge of the battlefield was shrouded in black mist, like the gaping maw of a great beast poised to devour everything.

Lin Cheng reached into the mist and found no barrier. He was pleased.

Though his hand was chilled to the marrow, he decided to take the risk—better this than certain death in the endless slaughter.

Without further hesitation, he stepped into the black mist.

Darkness swallowed his vision, as if he had plunged into an icy abyss.

Kill!

The demons must fall! Protect the living!

Before Lin Cheng could adjust, war cries and shouts of slaughter assailed his ears.

Light flared, revealing a host of cultivators astride spirit beasts, their life-bonded spiritual weapons floating above their heads, each figure lifelike and solid.

Their foes were, as before, the smoky, demonic souls.

Sensing the oppressive aura of Spirit Realm cultivators on all sides, cold sweat broke out on Lin Cheng’s brow.

Had he escaped the wolf’s den only to leap into the tiger’s jaws?

Tangible murderous intent swirled around him, seeping into his flesh, seeking to corrupt and destroy him.

Shocked, Lin Cheng frantically activated his Five Elements Sword Body to resist, but still some of the slaughter energy invaded his mind. A crimson gleam flickered behind his eyes, his breath grew heavy, and a savage bloodlust welled within him.

Just as he was about to lose himself and charge madly into the fray, a cold snort from the white-robed sword cultivator snapped him back to awareness.

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, still shaken. “Uncle, thank heavens for you—otherwise I’d have lost control again…”

“Uncle, do you know where the formation point of the Four Swords lies? I’ve searched everywhere and nearly lost myself again…”

Seeing the white-robed sword cultivator remain silent, Lin Cheng continued, “Should I go back to the previous battlefield and search there? It was a bit easier to handle…”

A cultivator lunged at him with a sword. Lin Cheng did not dodge, letting the blade pierce him.

His assailant moved on without pause, launching into battle with the next enemy.

Noting that even the weakest figures here were at the Minor Spirit Realm, with many radiating the pressure of Spirit Kings, Lin Cheng’s courage faltered.

“This sword formation—each blade governs a different aspect. You are now caught within the ‘Immortal-Slaughtering Sword’s’ domain of attack… Though of course, this is not the true ‘Immortal-Slaughtering Sword’…” The white-robed sword cultivator’s voice echoed in Lin Cheng’s mind as he struggled.

“The formation shifts constantly. Even if you wished to return to the former battlefield, you likely couldn’t. You might even fall into greater peril…”

“If the formation’s locus is not on the ground, try looking above…” With that, the sword cultivator closed his eyes.

Slashing apart two Spirit Realm figures, Lin Cheng quickly looked skyward.

Above, yellow clouds churned, occasionally lit by flashes of lightning.

His eyes gleamed. He leapt onto the Breeze Sword and soared into the clouds.

No sooner had he entered than he spied a blood-red sword of slaughter suspended midair, lightning dancing around its blade, waves of killing intent radiating out, enveloping the battlefield below.

So it’s you!

Without hesitation, Lin Cheng sped toward the blade.

As he drew near, the overwhelming slaughter energy nearly unraveled his mind again.

Uncle!

With a desperate cry, his spirit steadied once more under the white-robed sword cultivator’s aid.

But this won’t work… The closer he came to the sword, the less his Five Elements Sword Body could withstand; already, signs of decay appeared.

He watched in horror as the arm he reached out began to melt away, flesh dissolving to reveal bone in mere moments.

Shocked, he withdrew his hand, hastily circulating his cultivation to heal the ruined flesh.

“Uncle, what do I do? At this rate, I’ll be reduced to nothing before I can even draw the sword…”

Seeing Lin Cheng shrink back after a single attempt, the white-robed sword cultivator spoke with rare irritation. “This is only the pressure released for your Spirit Realm cultivation, yet you cannot endure it. How do you expect to face the true Immortal-Execution Sword Formation one day?”

“If your body is destroyed, you still have your soul. If your soul is destroyed, you still have your will. As long as your will remains, nothing can stand in your way. We cultivators, what have we to fear?”

Hearing such a rebuke for the first time, Lin Cheng was ashamed. He knew he had disappointed his guide.

He gritted his teeth.

All or nothing!

He thrust his hand once more into the lightning, seizing the sword.

Boom!

The flesh of his arm was instantly reduced to dust, leaving only bare white bone.

Trembling, Lin Cheng’s face was deathly pale, yet he did not let go.

If you’re going to kill me, do it now!

With a howl of defiance, he pulled with all his strength.

The sword, blazing with blood-red light, came free from the lightning.

By then, half his body had dissolved into blood, leaving only half a skeleton.

The white-robed sword cultivator watched this grisly scene, Lin Cheng’s iron resolve and ferocity evoking the memory of another familiar figure. A trace of sorrow flickered in his eyes.

Sighing softly, the sword cultivator formed a seal and sent a mysterious power through Lin Cheng’s skeletal arm into the sword.

At once, the slaughter energy flooding from the blade reversed, surging back into the sword.

Lin Cheng’s body then collapsed heavily downward…