Chapter 719: The Upheaval of the Spirit Tribe

Obviously, she did.

With her own cultivation at the third layer of the Profound Mysteries, her abilities worthy of being on the Ranking of Heaven, she was among the apex of martial artists, being among the most powerful and legendary figures. Her power was incomprehensible to ordinary martial artists.

A single one of her strikes from beneath the ground could shatter the heavens above. No mountain, no stone could stand against the power of her sword.

The sword light cleaved through giant stones, and Yue Hongling emerged above the burial ground. Suspended in midair, she looked down at the scene of upheaval below. Her eyes were icy, her grip on her sword tightening.

The tremors below were not caused by the collapse of the tomb but by the Black Hmong King himself. Step by step, he ascended, and each of his steps sent tremors through the earth. Massive boulders fell upon him, only to disintegrate into dust upon impact, unable to leave even the slightest mark.

While Yue Hongling relied on her sword, the Black Hmong King needed only his monstrous body. The half-cleaved head he bore from his past death now only added to his horrific presence, sending chills down the spine of anyone who looked upon him.

Based on her experience with Maitreya and his warrior monks turned corpse demons, Yue Hongling knew what she was dealing with. The corpse’s steel skin was impervious to blades or arrows, and its immense strength made it nearly unstoppable. Even when Tang Wanzhuang and Vermillion Bird had joined forces, they could defeat but not contain Maitreya’s undead form, a form far stronger than he was when he was alive.

Back then, Xue Wu had only dabbled in corpse puppet techniques. His expertise was over beast spirits, and whatever knowledge of corpse puppets he had acquired had been improvised, cobbled together with Buddhist techniques. Even so, Maitreya’s power had been terrifyingly enhanced. What kind of result could be expected when a true master of corpse puppetry was behind the scenes?

Crack!

A boulder pushed aside, and the Black Hmong King emerged, half his body now visible above ground.

Without hesitation, a beam of sword light shot into his remaining eye socket, piercing through his skull and exiting the back of his head. A metallic clang rang out, but the strike did no damage. It did not even slow him down.

Moments later, the Black Hmong King had fully emerged, his massive frame towering above the ground.

The single hollow eye socket fixed its gaze on Yue Hongling. Though empty, it emanated a palpable aura of viciousness and bloodthirst. The corpse’s yin qi and death qi surged outward, snuffing out life as it spread. Birds passing overhead fell silent and lifeless, their bodies rotting even before they hit the ground.

Fortunately, the burial ground was on the outskirts of the city, and the tremors had already frightened away anyone nearby. The surrounding area was deserted for several li.

The only living presence left was Yue Hongling herself, whose vibrant life force seemed to agitate the Black Hmong King further. He let out a guttural, grating roar and lunged at her with terrifying speed.

Yue Hongling’s expression remained calm as she deliberately withdrew her energy and retreated, studying the Black Hmong King’s movements.

But then, he paused briefly, as if in thought, before abruptly turning and charging toward Taoyuan Town instead.

Yue Hongling immediately unleashed her full aura and struck again, driving her sword into the back of his skull.

“...” The Black Hmong King hesitated for a moment before erupting in a frenzy of rage. With a maddened roar, he whirled around, sweeping his massive arm in a wild, destructive arc.

Yue Hongling swiftly dodged, the terrifying wave of energy brushing past her. The force was so immense it smeared away the disguise on her face, leaving her face patchy and uneven.

She retreated several steps, pressing one hand to the ground for balance while wiping her face with the other. Deciding there was no point in maintaining the disguise, she removed it entirely, her features now clear.

The sheer power of the Black Hmong King was undeniably terrifying, capable of splitting mountains. It was not something she could confront head-on. However, she noted that his speed was average, and his awareness muddled, indicating he was not invincible.

Clearly, someone was controlling him. Their target was undoubtedly Taoyuan Town. If this destructive war machine reached the town, even an army of a hundred thousand would be reduced to dust. The Spirit Tribe’s defenses would collapse in an instant, leaving them vulnerable to an internal and external assault—a calculated plan to crush the Spirit Tribe entirely.

Yet it seemed the controller was incapable of exerting full control over the Black Hmong King; they were merely capable of issuing basic commands. These commands were insufficient to override the innate nature of a freshly awakened Ranking of Heaven corpse demon: a hatred for life and an insatiable thirst for bloodshed. Without full attention from the controller, the Black Hmong King could not be made to act entirely as commanded.

This gave Yue Hongling an opening. As long as she could keep the Black Hmong King distracted, his aggression would remain focused on her, preventing him from reaching Taoyuan Town. She had to buy time and keep him engaged at all costs to avert a catastrophe.

That said, this lack of full control raised another question:what was it that left the controller unable to focus fully on the Black Hmong King? Were they occupied with something even more critical? And if even controlling a monster of this caliber was not their priority, what kind of danger was Zhao Changhe facing right now?

Yue Hongling’s sharp eyes flashed with resolve. She could not afford to delay. She needed to end this quickly and rush to Zhao Changhe’s aid. She stopped retreating; her sword and body became one, streaking back toward the Black Hmong King like a bolt of lightning, her sword aiming straight for his forehead.

Against an opponent immune to conventional damage, whose awareness was clouded yet whose body was impenetrable, she needed to find his “soul fire” and extinguish it to end this battle. Opting for a swift resolution came with enormous risks, but Yue Hongling did not hesitate.

Big sister will help you!

* * *

Back when Yue Hongling was following Dao Qingfeng into the burial ground, events were also unfolding on Sisi’s side.

After each tribal chief paid their respects, most unrelated people had left. The only ones remaining were elders of the sacred mountain and a few schemers pretending to leave but actually continued lingering around.

Even the guards on the sacred mountain had quietly been replaced under the influence of those harboring ulterior motives.

The atmosphere grew subtly tense, though Sisi, sitting inside the sacred temple, seemingly lost in grief and dazed, appeared oblivious to it all.

Inside the temple, one of the elders finally spoke, his tone cautious and deliberate, “Saintess, now that Mister Ye has passed, should we consider taking control of the divine axe?”

Sisi glanced at him. She and her master had orchestrated this entire drama to expose intruders targeting the Divine Axe. With Ye Wuzong dead and the divine axe without a master, the unsecured sacred temple would be an irresistible target for external enemies. The trap had been set to lure them out. And if it also revealed any traitors among the Spirit Tribe, all the better.

It was no surprise that her own tribe members desired the divine axe, so it was hard to determine whether this elder was truly a traitor. Sisi responded nonchalantly, “My master’s body is still warm, and you’re already talking about this. Is that not disrespectful? If you want the divine axe, should we not at least wait until after the mourning period? What is making you so anxious, Great Elder?”

The great elder replied, “Taking control of the divine axe is not something that can be achieved overnight. Even if we all work together to suppress its spirit, it will take a long time to fully subdue it. If we wait until after the mourning period to begin preparations, there could be more than half a month during which the axe remains outside our control. In that time, the divine axe may recover its spirit and escape... At that point, it would be too late for regret.”

It was a reasonable concern, but Sisi could not allow anyone to attempt to take control of the axe right now. Letting anyone do so would immediately reveal that its master was still alive, blowing their cover. She could only reply, “If that’s the case, then let me attempt to control the axe first. Surely, no one can object to that?”

The great elder bowed. “We would never dare object if you wish to take control of the axe yourself.”

Sisi nodded and slowly approached the divine axe, gently placing her hand on it.

Whether the axe had a master or not, its spirit would react violently to anyone attempting to meddle with it. Suppressing its resistance would require enormous effort, leaving anyone who tried utterly consumed by the task.

To the onlookers, it appeared as if electricity coursed through Sisi’s entire body, her expression stern and tinged with pain. It was clear she was expending tremendous energy to contend with the axe spirit.

A few people exchanged glances, silently marveling at their apparent good fortune.

It was well known that even the Thief Saint, who was on the Ranking of Heaven, had been grievously injured when suppressing the axe spirit’s rebellion. For Sisi, with her comparatively limited power, even testing the axe would cost her dearly.

Under normal circumstances, the Spirit Tribe would employ a coordinated effort to tame the divine axe, with the saintess and a group of elders working together. This would ensure ample strength for everyone involved, minimizing risk. However, out of respect for her master’s recent death, Sisi refused to allow anyone else to touch the axe at this time. She chose to face it alone, which left her at her most vulnerable—utterly exposed to an ambush.

The great elder, who had suggested Sisi attempt controlling the axe, gave a subtle signal to those nearby.

Suddenly, the sound of blades being drawn filled the sacred temple. Several elders, protectors, and tribal chiefs struck without warning, swiftly subduing the other elders. At the same time, the great elder himself attacked, pointing a finger at Sisi’s back in a calculated strike.

At the same time, the clash of weapons and the shouts of battle resounded outside the temple. The loyal guards of the sacred mountain, caught off guard, were attacked by traitors who had intentionally lingered or been strategically positioned as part of the coup.

The sacred temple descended into chaos. Many elders and guards, caught completely off guard, were subdued. Those with stronger combat abilities managed to draw their blades and engage the traitors, but they were steadily pushed back. One of them shouted in disbelief, “Have you all gone mad?!”

Before the words were fully out, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the air, silencing the room. Everyone turned their heads in shock to see the great elder, who had attempted to strike Sisi, writhing in agony. His hand had come into contact with some kind of venomous gu, which was now furiously devouring him. In moments, his hand was reduced to bare white bone.

As if that was not enough, the electric currents that had been coursing through Sisi transferred fully to him, forming a cage of lightning that paralyzed him where he stood. He could neither move nor resist as the gu continued its relentless feast, leaving him in a state too horrific to describe.

Sisi turned her head slowly, her usually charming eyes now as cold and merciless. “Kill.”

At her command, the ground began to tremble violently. A young Blood Ao emerged, climbing onto the sacred mountain.

Above, the cry of a goshawk pierced the air. A massive goshawk swooped down from the sky, its talons scooping up dozens of the rebels at once. Moments later, it released them, and they plummeted to the ground with a symphony of terrified screams, reduced to mangled corpses upon impact.

Countless beasts appeared, blanketing the sacred mountain.

Sisi’s gaze swept across the stunned occupants of the sacred temple. Her voice was cold and unyielding. “The wars in the Central Plains have already proven it—sheer numbers are meaningless. Those who wield the power of gods and demons are the true masters of this world. Yet, you still fail to understand.”

“Is that so?” A sudden voice cut through the air, followed by a shadow darting swiftly toward Sisi. In a flash, the figure grabbed hold of the divine axe. “Since the saintess has no need for the axe, we’ll be taking—Ah!!!”

Another bone-chilling scream echoed as the figure convulsed violently, his body engulfed in a storm of electricity. He was reduced to a charred husk before he could even finish his sentence.

The man died without ever understanding why. He had the knowledge to control the axe and avoid its backlash—so why had the divine axe’s wrath annihilated him while Sisi remained unscathed?

The only explanation was that the axe still had a master. But he would never have the chance to voice this realization.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

A new wave of assassins emerged, one after another, from the shadows surrounding the sacred temple. These individuals were elites of the Snow-Listening Pavilion, trained for precision and stealth rather than open combat. While they refrained from engaging in the chaotic melee around them, they recognized an opportunity: Sisi’s relative lack of strength made her a viable target, and their chances of eliminating her remained favorable.