Aspiring to the Immortal Path

"Xi Canhen!" Wei Tianchong shouted.

As the sword light faded, the thin and weak figure of Xi Canhen appeared.

There was a smile on his face as he said, "Canhen pays respects to his three Martial Uncles."

"There's no need to be polite," Wei Tianchong said, hastily flying over. "You could have just stopped him. Nobody told you to kill him! Sheesh, now those two have each killed one while I got nothing after fighting all day. You managed to get the credit instead."

Xi Canhen chuckled. "It's because your martial nephew is too incompetent. As Martial Uncle knows, your martial nephew is only good at assassination, not delaying people, so please forgive me for the offense."

Wei Tianchong tersely said, "Don't try that on me! How long have you been hiding there, waiting for the chance?"

Although Xi Canhen had reached Violet Palace, he had always walked the path of assassination and possessed an unparalleled ability to conceal himself. If he wanted to hide, nobody in the Basking Moon Sect except Yun Tianlan and Tang Jie would be able to find him, not even Ling Xiao and Xiao Biehan.

But for this same reason, he wasn't good in direct confrontations, and he would only ever strike from the shadows.

Such methods were not proper in normal circumstances, and Xi Canhen had little opportunity to show his ability, but in a cultivator war, his assassination prowess became very useful.

Nether Emissary Xi Canhen perfectly conveyed just how dangerous he was.

Cai Junyang and the others had been fighting for some days now, but it was only today that they had kills to their names. As for Xi Canhen, if the one Wei Tianchong had been fighting was counted, he had already taken the lives of four Violet Palace True Lords, so it was no wonder Wei Tianchong was unhappy.

In the face of Wei Tianchong's questioning, Xi Canhen could only say, "The situation on West Wind Ridge is perilous, and Second Junior Brother has already gone to its aid. He dispatched me to urge Martial Uncles to hurry over."

The mention of this second junior brother made everyone fall silent.

Xi Canhen's junior brother was naturally the disciple Tang Jie had brought back from Verdant Cloud, Er Hu.

But Er Hu now bore a different moniker, the illustrious Blood Blade Wang Posha (Demon Slayer).

The name "Demon Slayer" embodied his life, personality, conduct, and also his Fate and path.

Tang Jie had not blessed Wang Posha in the Violet Palace Sublimation Ceremony, letting him go his own way.

But as the Child of Fate, he would inevitably reach Violet Palace.@@novelbin@@

In truth, it happened faster than anyone expected. Not long after Wei Tianchong and the others had succeeded, Wang Posha broke through while in seclusion and successfully attained Violet Palace.

Wang Posha, who had reached Violet Palace on his own, was stronger than his peers from the start, and even Cai Junyang, who was known as the strongest among Tang Jie's classmates, was inferior to him.

His persevering and tenacious personality earned him many admirers, and the upper echelons of the Basking Moon Sect showed him great favor. He quickly came under consideration as the next master of the sect, following Mystic Moon, since Tang Jie had no desire to be the sect master.

Even the likes of Cai Junyang and Qi Shaoming felt considerable admiration for this heir apparent.

After hearing this news, they immediately flew off for the West Wind Ridge battleground.

West Wind Ridge hosted one of the primary nodes of the domain-merging formation, with the area being home to 36 formation eyes in total. Its fall would have immense ramifications on the entirety of the formation, so to ensure its safety, the Basking Moon Sect had laid down a Golden Sand Formation and tasked the experts of the Thousand Passions Sect with guarding it.

Even so, West Wind Ridge had come under an unprecedented attack from the fiends and demons. Leading the assault were the Verdant Trio and the Demon Gate's Twin Devils, the ones who had intervened in the incident at Cloud Dream, and there were a total of twelve Violet Palace True Lords in their group. Ꞧ𝔞ΝՕ𝔟Ёꞩ

The Thousand Passions Sect was helpless against such an ensemble and could only call for help. When Wang Posha heard the news, he personally led the reinforcements, but he alone was not enough, so he had Xi Canhen go and gather more reinforcements.

After hearing all this, Cai Junyang said, "Then what are we waiting for? We need to get there as soon as we can!"

The four flew over to West Wind Ridge even faster.

At this moment, West Wind Ridge was engulfed by a howling golden wind, and the din of fighting filled the air as fiends and demons battled.

On the southern side of the Golden Sand Formation in a clearing, a large man, his upper half naked, was battling three other cultivators with a rusted blade. This was the one formerly known as Er Hu, the heir apparent of the Basking Moon Sect, Blood Blade Wang Posha.

He was battling three formidable Violet Palace True Lords, their Divine Connections and spell arts stirring up a terrifying storm. But Wang Posha was fearless, barging here and there through the storm as if it wasn't there.

His fighting style was extremely simple, without any magnificent Divine Connections or profound and abstruse spell arts, nor were there any powerful divine treasures. He was just swinging his rusted blade here and there, yet those three True Lords avoided it like it was the plague, not daring to get close.

Their spell arts and Divine Connections left trails of blood across Wang Posha's body, but he continued to swing his blade. But if one looked closely, one would find that those spell arts and Divine Connections would come apart under his blade, transforming back into spiritual energy and fading away.

Even so, under the combined attack of the trio, Wang Posha's rusted blade was swinging more and more slowly, and as he slowed down, his opponents' attacks became much fiercer. The number of wounds on his body grew and grew, but still, Wang Posha swung around his blade as if they didn't exist.

Plush!

A dark blast of energy struck Wang Posha, and he staggered as frost covered his body, the rusted blade freezing for a moment. A thin Violet Palace True Lord immediately attacked in delight, but as he did, a short and chubby cultivator next to him shouted, "Junior Brother, watch out!"

Wang Posha's rusted blade suddenly exploded with light and sliced into the thin man, who let out a strangled scream as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. Blood rushed out of the wound in a ceaseless flood.

The thin cultivator hastily retreated and jabbed his finger at his injured arm. When this failed to stop the wound from growing, he took a bottle of medicine from his Mustard Seed Bag and drank it down, and only then did his condition start to improve.

He couldn't help but be stunned, and realized that the title of Blood Blade was not undeserved. Anyone wounded by him could very easily lose the ability to fight, not because his blade was poisoned, but because he cultivated some kind of secret art.

Meanwhile, after unleashing that attack, Wang Posha finally retreated, hiding himself within that golden sandstorm. Every grain of sand within this storm was like a sharp needle, capable of penetrating through the body and punching into one's bones.

Having already experienced the power of these golden sands, the three cultivators didn't dare to give chase. When they saw that Wang Posha was using this chance to rest, they turned around and shouted, "Hurry up and break the formation!"

A group of cultivators charged out from the rear, raising up the clamshells in their hands. The clams slightly opened their mouths, and winds blew out of their shells. The gale they created somehow caused the Golden Sand Formation to totter on the verge of collapse.

In the depths of the formation, several hundred cultivators of the Thousand Passions Sect gazed at the surrounding sandstorm in shock.

Suddenly, there was a boom, and the entire formation shuddered. Someone said, "The upper gate has fallen."

Everyone despaired. The Golden Sand Formation had seven gates, and if the seven gates fell, the formation would soon follow. And since they couldn't see any cultivators coming from the other locations, they had probably all been slain.

A female cultivator asked, "Who will join me in charging out of the formation to delay them breaking the formation?"

Nobody responded.

It wasn't because they were unwilling, but because they were all exhausted and injured, and a force several times their size was waiting outside.

"It seems we're just going to wait until we die here, then," another female cultivator sorrowfully said.

But then the resting Wang Posha suddenly stood up again and once more walked out of the formation. But his body was slightly swaying, and he was still exuding a chilling energy from the blast he had taken, the ground freezing wherever he walked. This was the power of the Dark Yin Finger, even its lingering energy enough to freeze a Celestial Heart cultivator to death.

Yet Wang Posha seemed to feel nothing as he once more emerged from the formation, much to the alarm of the enemy, who immediately stopped what they were doing.

The three cultivators from before once more went to battle, but what greeted them was a resplendent wave of saber energy. In another terrifying clash of power, the three Violet Palace experts were pushed back, all of them bearing wounds. Wang Posha didn't take a single step back, but he now bore savage wounds on both his belly and his face. A bizarre energy tainted these wounds and constantly attempted to encroach upon Wang Posha's body.

Wang Posha stood tall, glaring straight ahead.

The three Violet Palace True Lords had sustained heavy injuries and were unwilling to come forward for a moment. They simply gestured forward and shouted, "We've severely wounded him, so what are you still hesitating for? Kill him! The one who takes his head will be rewarded a divine treasure!"

These words invigorated their forces, and a Demon Gate cultivator with a golden bell over his head and a scimitar in his hand charged at Wang Posha, the golden bell draping him in a protective barrier. Wang Posha simply swung his blade, and this Soul Transformation cultivator was slain, his protective barrier nonexistent.

This immediately poured cold water on the other cultivators, and the three True Lords once more yelled, "What are you afraid of? Charge! He doesn't have much strength left! I'll add on one million coins and an upper-grade Immortal estate to the reward!"

The raised reward once more raised their morale, and another group of cultivators entered the fray, attacking Wang Posha from a distance. Blood began to burst out from this group as Wang Posha swung his blade, each swing striking down a cultivator, regardless of what sort of barrier and treasure they had.

But as group after group was slain, Wang Posha faltered for a moment.

The enemy was instantly filled with confidence, someone shouting, "He's at his limit!"

The offensive intensified.

Wang Posha clenched his teeth and stubbornly stood before the barrier. Swinging his saber, he cut off the head of a cultivator, but that dying cultivator managed to get a finger blow onto his chest. Without even grunting, Wang Posha swung his blade around and killed a cultivator coming at him from the side, but in exchange, he took three blows from the art relics of others. Although each attack had little effect on him, the accumulated damage was wearing away at him.

He had already been struck by at least twenty art relics, and his body was sporting wounds in no less than seventy spots. But even though he was on his last legs and his vision was blurring, he fought on.

Blood drenched his body red, yet his blade swung with the same force as ever. He had singlehandedly pushed back all these cultivators, as if he alone was an impervious fortress.

But while all this was going on, those three Violet Palace experts had finally recovered. They shared a look and laughed. "I guess it's still up to us to end him."

They could even save themselves the trouble of paying out the reward.

Wang Posha sighed, knowing that he could no longer hold back the enemy.

But at this moment, someone shouted, "Anyone who dares to hurt my martial nephew dies!"

A giant hand descended from the heavens. Wei Tianchong and company had finally arrived.