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墨書 Inktalez
The power of Meng Hao's Qilin Arm erupted with unprecedented strength, forming an indestructible barrier of golden light around him, tearing apart the Ghostly Murder Formation.
"Boom!"
With a deafening roar, the formation collapsed instantly, and the black runes surrounding everyone shattered like broken glass, dissipating into the air along with the chilling atmosphere.
The assassins from the Ghostly Manor retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind a field strewn with corpses and severely injured companions.
The Poison Matriarch let out a reluctant howl, her emaciated figure gradually fading into the black mist.
"Damn it... Meng Hao, I will remember you!" Her voice was filled with endless resentment, echoing through the secret realm.
Meng Hao gasped for breath as the radiance of his Qilin Arm slowly dimmed. He felt that more than half of his internal power had been drained, a wave of weakness washing over him, yet his gaze remained sharp as he fixed it on the direction where the Poison Matriarch had vanished.
The meeting place was now in disarray, a mixture of the stench of blood and earth that was nauseating.
Countless bodies lay scattered around—some were assassins from the Ghostly Manor, while others were masters from various sects who had come to the meeting.
Those who survived bore wounds of varying severity, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair.
"Did we... did we win?" a disciple from Kongtong Sect asked tremulously, his voice tinged with disbelief and a sense of relief at having survived.
"We won... but it’s a pyrrhic victory," Bai Yunzi said, leaning heavily on his Seven Injuries Fist stance. His face was pale as paper, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He surveyed the surroundings with eyes full of sorrow.
Once a gathering place for heroes in the martial world, it was now reduced to ruins and strewn with corpses. Many old friends he had known for years now lay cold and lifeless.
"Ghostly Manor, I swear that I will not rest until I avenge this grudge!" he shouted in anguish, his voice trembling yet filled with unyielding fury.
Steel King struggled to sit up; his robust body was covered in numerous wounds, some deep enough to expose bone, blood staining his iron armor.
He thrust his giant hammer into the ground with a dull thud.
"Damn Ghostly Manor! I will flatten your lair one day!" he roared, his voice hoarse yet powerful, eyes bloodshot with rage.
However, after the anger came the weighty reality. The death toll had set a grim record in the martial world for nearly a century.
Survivors helped each other up; some could not hold back their tears while others silently tended to their fallen comrades' bodies.
A heavy and oppressive atmosphere hung in the air as if a storm was about to break.
"Whose responsibility is this?!" a middle-aged man in luxurious clothing suddenly jumped up, pointing at Bai Yunzi and Steel King as he shouted angrily, "If it weren't for your insistence on holding this meeting, how could we have drawn the ambush from Ghostly Manor?! We have suffered heavy losses; how do you plan to account for this?!"
His words acted like a spark that ignited everyone's fury instantly.
"Yeah! Where is the leader of the martial alliance?! Hiding like a turtle at a critical moment! We’ve suffered so much; who will take responsibility?!"
"I think you just want to use this opportunity to eliminate your rivals!"
The rising tide of accusations made an already chaotic scene even more tumultuous.
Meng Hao furrowed his brow; he knew this was not the time for infighting.
He walked over to Bai Yunzi and supported the elderly man who was on the verge of collapsing. "Master Bai, you're injured; please rest."
Bai Yunzi looked gratefully at Meng Hao. He patted Meng Hao's arm, his voice weak yet resolute: "Young Hero Meng, thank you. If it weren't for your efforts today, we would likely have perished here."
Meng Hao shook his head, his gaze sweeping over those disciples who were blaming each other, feeling an inexplicable sorrow rise within him.
"Is the martial world really going to fall apart?" he murmured to himself.
He looked at Bai Yunzi with determination shining in his eyes: "Master Bai, I will avenge you against Ghostly Manor!"
"Is that so?" Lu Jue Ling's lips curled into a faint smile. "Then we shall see. I hope that when we meet again, you will still be this confident."
With that, he vanished into the air like a ghost, leaving behind a chilling black mist.
As Lu Jue Ling appeared, the already tense atmosphere grew even heavier. Meng Hao understood that although the Underworld had temporarily retreated, the real danger was just beginning. It felt as if countless eyes were watching them from the shadows. The enemy's encirclement was tightening inch by inch.
"Meng Hao, what should we do?" Sun Ruoshui rushed over, a hint of urgency on her face. "The assassins from the Underworld seem to still be nearby; we can't stay here for long!"
Hu Meng nodded in agreement, pointing into the distance. "I sense a cold aura approaching; it must be reinforcements from the Underworld."
Meng Hao took a deep breath, knowing time was running out. He scanned each person around him—Bai Yunzi, Steel King, Sun Ruoshui, Hu Meng, and the injured disciples from various sects. They all placed their hopes in him.
"Let's go!" Meng Hao clenched the Heavenly Axe tightly, determination shining in his eyes. "We need to leave this place!"
He understood that staying here would only lead to death. He had to lead them through the encirclement and find a glimmer of hope.
Meng Hao charged forward first, the light of his Qilin Arm shining brightly as he swung his axe to clear the thorns blocking their path, paving the way for everyone.
Bai Yunzi and Steel King followed closely behind, struggling with their injuries while protecting the disciples behind them. Sun Ruoshui and Hu Meng moved through the ranks, tending to the wounded and ensuring they could keep up with the group's pace.
However, just as they were about to break free from the secret realm, shadows surged in from all directions once more. These shadows were stronger than the previous assassins from the Underworld; their presence was cold and sinister, clearly elite forces from the Underworld.
They followed Meng Hao's group like ghosts, relentless and terrifying.
Meng Hao felt an intense sense of crisis from behind; he knew that the assassins from the Underworld had not given up. Their target was not just divine weapons but also to eliminate all survivors completely.
"Damn it!" Meng Hao growled lowly, realizing that a new fierce battle was about to begin!
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