My Xianxia Harem Life

The Obsidian Sky Lock Formation was a formidable binding array, a towering, ethereal cage that seemed to trap even the heavens themselves.

Their flying boat, while sturdy, was not equipped to breach such a powerful barrier.

To press forward would mean certain death.

"We have no choice but to retreat! Brace yourselves—I’m landing this thing!" Elder Michael shouted, his voice laced with urgency.

He immediately took action, guiding the vessel downward with all the skill he could muster.

The descent was as rough and jarring as the earlier attack, the boat groaning under the strain.

Despite the danger, Elder Michael’s sharp mind quickly pieced together one crucial fact: their attackers had not destroyed the boat outright, though they clearly could have.

"They want us alive," he muttered to himself, his brows furrowed deeply.

"Whether that’s a blessing or a curse, I don’t know yet."

Thud!

With a final lurch, the flying boat landed. It wasn’t graceful, but it was intact—a small miracle under the circumstances.

The doors creaked open, and Elder Michael and Elder Riley were the first to step outside.

Their gazes were immediately drawn upward, locking onto a massive creature circling above.

Its wings crackled with arcs of lightning, its scales shimmering with a silver metallic sheen that reflected the dull light.

"The Thunder Wing Wyvern," Riley murmured, his expression grim.

Gasps erupted from the disciples behind them.

"That’s the Phantom Abyss Sect’s signature spirit beast!" one of them exclaimed, panic creeping into their voice.

"They breed them in vast numbers. Why would they come after us?"

Elder Michael’s jaw tightened, his face dark with fury.

"Why does evil ever need a reason? They act simply because they can."

His voice carried the weight of years of hatred, fueled by the atrocities committed by the Phantom Abyss Sect.

This sect was infamous, a name whispered in fear and loathing across the xianxia world.

They thrived on chaos, destruction, and bloodshed, their power eclipsing that of the Stone Mountain Sect by a significant margin.

"Show yourselves!" Elder Michael bellowed, his voice ringing through the dense atmosphere.

"What do you want, vile demons in human flesh?"

He unsheathed his sword, its gleaming edge shimmering faintly with spiritual energy.

His stance was resolute, though his heart raced with the knowledge that they were vastly outmatched.

The disciples clustered behind him, fear etched into their faces as they clung to their weapons.

Above them, the Thunder Wing Wyvern let out a thunderous roar, its sound splitting the air like a crack of lightning.

The tension was palpable, the sense of doom hanging over them like a storm cloud about to break.

"An ant does not speak against a god," a clear, resounding voice echoed from above.

In the next instant, a blinding sword strike descended, aimed directly at Elder Michael.

"Move away!" Elder Michael shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

In a flash, he darted away from the Stone Mountain Sect disciples, fearful that any of them might be caught in the path of the devastating attack.

With a swift motion, Elder Michael summoned his power, raising his sword high as he launched a counterattack.

"Stone Heart Sword Technique!" His blade came to life, crackling with intense energy as it collided with the sword light from above.

Bang!

The two forces collided in a deafening explosion, and it was immediately clear which side had the upper hand.

Hak!

Hak!

Hak!

Elder Michael was knocked backward, each impact forcing him further away.

When he finally came to a stop, his body was drenched in blood, and his once-pristine sect uniform was torn and ragged.

Blood dripped from his mouth as he struggled to stand, the severity of the attack evident in the battered state he was left in.

"Elder Michael!" the disciples of Stone Mountain Sect cried out in terror.

Seeing their strongest elder so gravely wounded sent a ripple of panic through them.

If Elder Michael, the pillar of their sect, could be reduced to this state, how could they possibly hope to survive the storm that had now descended upon them?

Bang!

The Thunder Wing Wyvern landed with a thunderous crash near the flying boat, shaking the ground beneath them.

Its massive form loomed over the vessel, nearly matching its size, its sleek silver wings unfurled in all their eerie, magnificent glory.

The wings shimmered with an otherworldly gleam, casting an unsettling glow that made the air itself feel heavy.

A cold wind whipped through the air, the Wyvern’s presence alone enough to silence the disciples, their hearts racing in fear.

From its back, a tall, dark figure descended with an almost supreme grace.

His movements were smooth and calculated, as if every step was measured and deliberate.

His eyes, dark as night, scanned the surroundings with cruel indifference.

He walked slowly towards the group of disciples, his presence alone casting a shadow over them.

"That’s Lucas Prince!" one of the disciples exclaimed, his voice filled with both fear and loathing.

"He’s an elder of the Phantom Abyss Sect, notorious for abducting women—taking them like cattle. Rumors say he has a dungeon hidden somewhere on the continent, a place where he keeps his... ’captives’ to amuse himself. No one’s ever escaped from his grasp."

A wave of realization washed over the disciples, the air thick with the sudden understanding of their situation.

They weren’t just being attacked—they were being hunted for Leia.

Her beauty had drawn the attention of one of the most notorious figures in the cultivation world.

Leia stood frozen, her eyes hardening, though a trace of fear flickered within them.

She knew the reputation of the Phantom Abyss Sect, but hearing it so openly, in such a personal way, made the reality all too clear.

This was no longer just a threat—it was a direct assault on her.

The disciples around her shrank back, instinctively forming a protective circle, though they all knew the hopelessness of their position.

Even Elder Michael, who had always been their pillar of strength, was wounded and barely standing.

Lucas Prince, standing before them now, gave an almost cruel smile.

His lips curled lewdly as his gaze fell on Leia, and the air seemed to grow colder with his words.

"Leave. I have no need for the ugly ones. All I want is you," Lucas purred, his voice dripping with malice.

His eyes traveled over Leia, drinking in her beauty with obvious hunger and lust.

While the rest of the disciples were immobilized by fear, Riley, standing to the side, couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips.

His eyes sparkled with a dark gleam, and his heart raced not from fear, but from excitement.

Finally, my chance has arrived! Riley screamed silently in his mind, his pulse quickening.