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墨書 Inktalez
Sun Baiyuan glared at Zuo Ci, his teeth clenched in frustration. This kid had shattered his Dao heart in an instant.
The essence of the Dao was tranquility and non-action, devoid of desires and demands. Just a single thread of lustful thought could expose a flaw in his path.
With a wave of his large sleeves, the old man summoned a row of willow wood plaques that floated before him, each inscribed with names etched in fresh blood. These were the soul plaques of three hundred seventy-two cultivators from the Fu Long Lineage. If he crushed these wooden tablets, those cultivators would perish—many noble families employed similar tactics.
Crack! Crack!
Under the oppressive force of the Black Hand, the wooden plaques shattered one by one. In the sky, on the ground, and in the outside world, all the cultivators of the Fu Long Vein clutched their chests before bursting into clouds of blood.
Escape!
With another wave of his hand, the old man gathered the blood of his deceased kin to form a body that bore an eight-part resemblance to himself.
What a spectacular technique for substituting death! Zuo Ci mocked. This old guy was truly desperate. To save his own life, he had sacrificed all the lives of the Fu Long Lineage's cultivators as substitutes!
Buzz!
The Black Hand seemed unable to select a target and crushed the newly formed body. Countless souls from the Fu Long Lineage emerged with twisted expressions from that recently formed shell, only to be drawn into the Wan Hun Fan by the Black Hand.
The Fu Long Lineage was utterly annihilated.
Yet this old guy managed to escape from the Hun Fan. There were indeed some tricks at play.
Cut!
Zuo Ci flicked his fingers.
Countless sharp sword energies erupted instantly, slicing the entire Fu Long Pavilion into pieces. The Old Guy, while maneuvering the formation to fend off the piercing edge of Zhan Xian Fei Dao, was frantically trying to escape. He was the head of the Fu Long Lineage; as long as he was alive, there would always be a day for the Fu Long Lineage to rise again.
How could this be? How could it be that the centuries-old foundation of the Fu Long Lineage was outmatched by a mere rookie?
"Sun Baiyuan!" Zuo Ci suddenly shouted.
Behind him, a massive Evil God Head emerged, dragging its intestines and organs below. The sinister face of the Evil God quivered as it uttered those three words. The call resonated like a thunderous bell, echoing through the heavens.
Buzz!
The old man's eyes suddenly glazed over, his soul uncontrollably yearning to escape his body. This was the Soul Calling Technique. Without any hesitation, Zuo Ci continued to write "Sun Baiyuan" on the third white strip of cloth.
The Black Hand surged with immense force, pressing down on the old man's head. With a gentle grip, Sun Baiyuan's soul was effortlessly extracted from his body and drawn into the Wan Hun Fan. After all, it was not yet true unity with the Dao.
Zuo Ci revealed a faint smile. Through the Wan Hun Fan, he controlled Sun Baiyuan's shadowy soul, forcing him to divulge the secrets of the Fu Long Lineage's formations.
Release!
Zuo Ci formed a hand seal. He directed his fingertip towards the ruins of Fu Long Pavilion, summoning a piece of formation plate from beneath the debris, then dismantled the grand array of the Fu Long Lineage. The Dragon Knights that served as focal points for the formation were all taken away by Zuo Ci. Now, the Wan Hun Formation could finally be supercharged!
All the Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures of the Fu Long Lineage were hidden within the formation, a dazzling array of materials that left Zuo Ci astonished.
"Mine, all mine," he thought to himself.
The Yin Tome had been fully assembled, and as a bonus, he received an additional Lao Deng for free.
After completing these tasks, Zuo Ci turned his attention to the towering Serpent God Temple. He began to cast spells and incantations.
Within the Serpent God Temple lay the remnants of Gui Yan She Shen's soul, drawing upon the Earth Vein Dragon Qi day and night to restore itself. Now that Zuo Ci had dismantled the grand formation, the remnants of the Snake God within the Serpent God Temple began to stir restlessly.
A black-red mist surged forth from the temple, coalescing in the void into an illusory form of a Black-Red Python. Its three crimson eyes fixed intently on Zuo Ci.
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