With a savage yank, Rodney pulled the bone chain, its links tightening around Lordi’s wrist with a bone-crunching grip, dragging the intruder’s body uncontrollably toward him through the debris-strewn air.
The ghostly white flames raced along the chain, their searing heat licking at Lordi’s flesh, threatening to consume his bound wrist in a blaze of necrotic agony. Simultaneously, Rodney gestured with his left hand, his fingers curling into a claw-like stance that summoned a surge of spiritual energy. His twelve vengeful ghosts morphed into jet-black ghost spears, their forms as dark as the abyss, hovering in the air with a menacing hum. As Rodney clenched his claw into a fist, the spears spun violently and pierced toward Lordi from all angles, each one aimed to impale the young man in a relentless barrage!
Death loomed—and with it, a clarity sharper than any blade. Agony burned through Lordi’s bound wrist, his bones still screaming from Rodney’s Void Shatter Palm Art, yet an unnatural calm gripped him.
Was it the remnant of Yunny Hanzwart’s ghost being restoration, the little girl’s final sacrifice when regaining humanity before her soul dissolved into the void? Her ghostly aura still pulsed through his meridians, purging the poison and entwining with the incoming Rodney’s vengeful energy—cooling Lordi’s mind to glacial focus.
Escape was impossible.
If the Ninth Layer cultivator sought his end, Lordi would meet him claw to claw, fang to fang, tearing at fate itself until nothing remained.
In a sudden eruption of power, an overwhelming chilling aura surged from Lordi, his eyes igniting with azure blue flames that burned with an otherworldly intensity, coating his entire body. The azure flames roared to life, warding off the searing ghostly white fire racing along Rodney’s chain, their clashing energies sending sparks cascading like a forge’s fury. Lordi’s body blurred into a blood-red shadow, his speed so extreme that the black bone chain stretched taut, its links groaning under the strain as the white flames flickered and dimmed, unable to withstand the sudden pull. With a dancer’s grace, he threaded through the narrow gaps among the twelve jet-black ghost spears, their tips grazing his torn robes as he narrowly escaped their lethal convergence.
Lordi’s figure re-materialized before Rodney Luther in a heartbeat, leaving a long trail of crimson blur. With a mute ferocious snarl, he slashed the Blade of Life Hater toward Rodney’s skull, the bone blade’s killing intent so palpable it seemed to warp the air, its crimson mist coiling with an overwhelming resentment that made the Ninth Layer cultivator’s skin crawl.
The blade’s approach was heralded by ear-piercing fiend cries, sending Rodney’s hair standing on end as his survival instincts screamed in alarm. The metallic taste of blood, carried by the mist swirling around the blade, flooded his senses.
"FUCK??!! I can’t take this slash head-on!" Rodney’s mind roared, his body reacting with the reflexes of a peak Ninth Layer Qi Refiner as he dodged to the side, the blade grazing past his hair like a thunderbolt, its force sending a wave of blood-tinged wind slamming into his face, stinging his skin with its raw potency.
Just as he prepared to counter, Rodney’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief as Lordi’s calm visage surged with ferocity, the intruder shifting his stance mid-air with a venomous grace, his blade arcing toward Rodney’s waist in a second, unrelenting slash.
Rodney, his heart pounding with a mix of rage and incredulity, had no choice but to retreat again, his bone chain still tethered to Lordi’s wrist, its ghostly flames struggling to regain their intensity. But shock gripped him as he realized more slashes were already piercing toward him, each one faster than the last. The blade wove a net of crimson light, its arcs shimmering with a demonic brilliance that seemed to boil with malice red mist, each strike laced with an unforgiving killing intent that pressed Rodney into a corner. Lordi’s battle aura soared, his Seventh Layer cultivation defying logic as it forced a peak Ninth Layer cultivator into a defensive scramble, the bone blade dancing faster and faster, its crimson mist almost liquid in its ferocity.
SLASH!!! SLASH!!! SLASH!!!
Slash after slash—five, six, seven—the relentless CLANG echoed through the chamber with a rhythmic fury.
Rodney’s face twisted with frustration, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he parried with his bone chain and black ghost spear, the chain links and ghostspears clashing against the bone blade in ear deafing sounds, the impact sending a shockwave of crimson and silver sparks scattering like shattered glass.
Each clash was deafening—metal screeches, the force of their blows carving cracks into the battlefield.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANNGGGG!!!
Scattering blade auras sliced deep into the earth. Every swing left a jagged trench in the ground, upturning stone and dirt as if the earth itself recoils from their battle. The shockwaves from their attack impacts shattered the underground chamber, walls crumbling under the pressure. The sheer speed and malice of Lordi’s attacks sent Rodney reeling, his peak Ninth Layer aura strained under the pressure of a technique that seemed to transcend cultivation realm boundaries.
The Thirst Bull squad stood frozen, their faces taut with awe and anxiety, their eyes darting to Jorge Blue, their captain, seeking guidance amidst the chaos. Jorge’s expression was a storm of gloom, his Ninth Layer aura simmering with restrained power as he gripped his folding fan.
After a long, heavy moment, the captain shook his head slowly, a silent command that no one should interfere, his decision rooted in a deep understanding of Rodney’s pride.
Jorge Blue knew Rodney Luther better than most, having witnessed his junior brother’s unyielding resolve and steady temperament through countless trials in the Abyss Pit Sect’s ruthless hierarchy. Rodney’s devotion to the Great Dao was unshakable, a singular focus that had kept him unmoved even by the ardent pursuit of Emma Dawson, a stunningly beautiful Eighth Layer cultivator whose kind heart and high aptitude made her a perfect match for any cultivator seeking a Dao Spouse.
Yet, Rodney had remained resolute, his heart tethered to his oath to ascend alone, a choice that pained him as much as it did Emma, whose unrequited love had burned brightly for years.
Jorge understood that Rodney’s participation in this perilous Outer Sect task to the Hanz Clan Estate, despite already securing a Foundation Establishment Pill, was a selfless act to repay Emma’s kindness by securing another pill for her, a final gesture to sever their romantic fate and free his Dao Heart from guilt.
But no one could have foreseen the audacity, an unknown Seventh Layer cultivator from Garrick Blackthorn’s Thorn Squad, who had dared to yank Emma from Rodney’s protection, tear her clothes to tatters, and molest her in public—a humiliation that would sear even the face of a mortal man, let alone a peak Ninth Layer elite like Rodney Luther.
In the Abyss Pit Sect, where power and prestige were paramount, Rodney’s reputation as an outstanding Outer Sect disciple among millions demanded that he personally exact vengeance, lest his Dao Heart fracture under the weight of shame, jeoparding an Inner Demon that could halt his ascension to the Foundation Stage.
To intervene, Jorge knew, would be to brand Rodney a failure, a stain on his honor worse than death in the eyes of the Abyss Pit Sect’s unforgiving culture. Allowing others to aid him would be tantamount to declaring that Rodney Luther, a peak Ninth Layer Qi Refinement cultivator, was incapable of protecting his beloved junior sister or avenging her violation against a mere Seventh Layer nobody.
It would be as if the squad had pointed at Rodney’s face and scorned him as a good-for-nothing, a humiliation that could shatter his Dao Heart and doom his cultivation path.
Rodney’s need to personally shred the intruder into minced meat, extract his soul with bare hands, and torment it with the Soul Torture Artifact Forging Skill was not mere vengeance—it was a necessity to restore his inner balance and prove his worth in the sect’s merciless hierarchy.
Jorge’s gaze hardened, his folding fan snapping open with a sharp crack as he hurled it through the air, its runes igniting in a blazing arc that beheaded a dozen incoming Dao puppets and training dummies, their wooden limbs and iron frames splintering under the Crimson Tide Inferno Art’s wrath.
"Attention Thirst Bull!" Jorge ordered, his voice a deep, grim command that brooked no dissent. "Leave that piece of filthy brat to Rodney, we handle these Dao Puppets!" The fan returned to his hand with a flourish.
Ann Marlph and the other Thirst Bull Squad members hesitated for a second, yet, at Jorge’s command, they nodded swiftly, their voices rising in a unified "Aye, Captain!"
At this critical moment, Rodney’s spiritual energy surged frenziedly, a torrent of power that seemed to warp the air around him, his breath summoning rune characters of varying sizes that glowed eerily green across his neck and face. His eyes churned with inky darkness, twin voids of unrelenting fury, as he thrust a single finger forward.
A black spark, sharp and sinister, pierced through the overwhelming aura of Lordi’s blade and the thick, blood-glowing mist, striking directly into Lordi’s chest with a precision that defied the chaos, its impact resounding with a bone-rattling THUD!
The force of the black spark was cataclysmic, hurling Lordi backward through the air like a ragdoll, his body arcing in a helpless spiral as he spat a mouthful of blood, the crimson spray glistening under the torchlight. He crashed heavily into a swarm of Dao puppets and training dummies, the impact shattering countless constructs into splinters of wood and twisted iron.
Yet, against all odds, Lordi lived, his chest heaving as he rose from the wreckage, his Blade of Life Hater still clutched in his trembling hand, its crimson mist flaring defiantly.
The Thirst Bull Squad gasped in unison, their voices erupting in disbelief—"What the heck?! How is he still alive?!"
Rodney himself stood stunned, his bloodshot eyes widening as he grappled with the impossibility of Lordi’s survival, his Ninth Layer aura pulsing with a mix of incredulity and rising fury. The sight of Emma’s near-naked form, sprawled helplessly on the stone floor, reignited his rage, transforming his shock into another blazing inferno.
With a fierce tug, the ninth layer qi refiner yanked the bone chain, its links groaning under the strain as the ghostly white flames surged anew, their heat searing the air. His twelve vengeful ghosts, fused into a colossal Underworld Battering Ram, a monstrous construct thick as an oak barrel, its side tapering into a razor-sharp cone. A writhing Snake Wyrm, its scales black as the abyss, coiled around the ram’s body, its maw gaping to spit the cone’s lethal tip, its eyes glowing with a malevolent intelligence that promised obliteration.
"F-U-C-K-I-N-G! DIIIEEE!!!"
Rodney roared, his voice a thunderous bellow that shook the chamber, hurling the ram toward Lordi with earth-shattering force, its momentum tearing through the debris-strewn air like a comet of death.