143: Chapter 142 Temporarily Retreat the Enemy

The map of mountains and rivers hung in mid-air, a cyan beam of light connecting to the stars in the sky, continuously drawing starlight into the Formation.

Those array patterns slowly flowed in the night sky like golden rivers, looking unimaginably beautiful under the illumination of the starlight.

His spiritual energy was completely exhausted, his Divine Sense was nearly dried up, and he didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.

But he smiled.

The Devil Cultivators had retreated.

The Qingxuan Sect still stood.

He was still alive.

In the distance, the last batch of Devil Cultivators disappeared into the night.

The battlefield quieted down, leaving only the sound of wind and occasional groans.

Those injured Devil Cultivators lay on the ground; some were screaming, some were begging for mercy, and some had already ceased to breathe.

The Disciples of the Qingxuan Sect began to clean up the battlefield, collecting the remains of their companions, treating the wounded, and counting the spoils of war.

Fu Qingyun jumped down from the ruins and walked over to Yun Ming.

He looked down at the young man, who was slumped on the ground with a face as pale as paper, and remained silent for a long time.

"How long can the Formation hold?" he asked.

Yun Ming thought for a moment, his voice weak: "As long as the map of mountains and rivers is still there, and as long as the stars in the sky are still there, it can hold on indefinitely. But my spiritual energy... cannot support it for too long."

Fu Qingyun nodded: "That is enough."

He turned and looked towards the distance at the Mountain Guardian Array that was lighting up again.

Several rays of light rose from the array base, interweaving and converging in the night sky, gradually outlining a huge light shield.

The light shield was still thin and fragile, but it was taking shape bit by bit.

The Qingxuan Sect's Mountain Guardian Array was running again.

Fu Qingyun looked at the light and suddenly spoke: "Many people died today."

Yun Ming did not speak.

Fu Qingyun continued: "But more people survived. Because of you."

Yun Ming was silent for a moment and said in a low voice: "It was everyone holding on together. I alone could do nothing."

Fu Qingyun did not refute him.

He just stood there, looking into the distance.

The night wind blew from the mountains, carrying the scent of blood and burnt smoke, as well as a hint of earth and the fragrance of grass and trees.

The stars in the sky were still shining, the starlight falling down to shroud the entire Qingxuan Sect in a silvery glow.

In the distance, the Mountain Guardian Array was already running again, the light shield rising slowly to protect this scarred Sect within it.

The injured Disciples were carried into the Alchemy Hall, the fallen companions were placed in one spot, and those who were still alive sat together in groups of two or three; some were bandaging wounds, some were whispering, and some were just sitting quietly, watching the starlight.

Yun Ming looked up at the high sky.

It had already quieted down there.

The battle between the Old Ancestor and the two Late Nascent Soul Stage Devil Cultivators had stopped at some unknown time.

The three auras had all disappeared; whether they had retreated or moved elsewhere, he did not know.

He could not see the battle situation above and could only pray that the Old Ancestor was still alive.

Fu Qingyun walked over and sat down beside Yun Ming.

He was covered in blood, yet there was a smile on his face; he took out a jug of wine from his bosom, took a gulp, and handed it to Yun Ming.

Yun Ming shook his head: "I can't drink anymore."

Fu Qingyun did not force him, took another gulp himself, and looked up at the stars in the sky: "This Formation, it's damn beautiful."

Yun Ming smiled: "Beautiful, right?"

"Beautiful," Fu Qingyun nodded, "In all the years I've lived, this is the first time I've seen such beautiful stars."

Liu Ruyan walked over and snuggled up to Fu Qingyun's side.

Han Song still stood not far away, gripping that iron rod, his gaze vigilantly watching the distance.

Others gathered in twos and threes; some were laughing, some were crying, and some were just sitting quietly.

The starlight fell, illuminating this scarred Sect, illuminating those exhausted but still living people.

The Formation was complete.

The Qingxuan Sect still stood.

And high above the sky, the clouds had long been shattered.

The sky for a hundred miles was clean, without a trace of clouds, only boundless darkness.

Three figures hung at a great height; every collision exploded with a visible shockwave, tearing the surrounding air to shreds and emitting a dull roar.

The Old Ancestor's black Daoist robe was mostly shattered, revealing the charred skin underneath and several wounds deep enough to see the bone.

His hair was disheveled, blown into a mess by the wind, dried blood hung from the corner of his mouth, and his aura was much more withered than at the beginning.

But his waist remained straight, his gaze remained as steady as ever, as if those wounds were not on him, as if the constantly flowing spiritual energy had nothing to do with him.

His opponents were two at the Late Nascent Soul Stage.

One was Tu Gang, with a physique as sturdy as an iron tower, bald, with a face full of flesh, and his bare upper body covered in black Devilish Qi patterns.

He wielded a pitch-black heavy hammer, the hammerhead the size of a millstone, covered all over with hideous barbs, exuding a strong scent of blood.

Every hammer strike carried the power to destroy the heavens and earth, causing even space to tremble.

The other was Granny Bone, withered and thin as firewood, stooped, wrapped in a black robe that covered her body which seemed ready to fall apart at any moment.

She leaned on a bone staff, the head of which was a skull the size of a fist, with ghostly blue flames flickering in its eye sockets.

Her attacks were strange and unpredictable; with a wave of the bone staff, countless bone spikes appeared out of thin air, stabbing at the Old Ancestor from all directions, silent and impossible to defend against.

The Old Ancestor, fighting one against two, had already held on for nearly four hours.

Tu Gang smashed down with his hammer, the black hammer like a mountain, carrying the whistling wind.

The Old Ancestor raised his hand, a streak of spiritual light turning into a ribbon to meet it.

The spiritual light collided with the black hammer, exploding a shockwave, and both retreated.

The Old Ancestor retreated ten zhang, and Tu Gang retreated five zhang.

Granny Bone appeared silently behind him.

The bone staff pointed out, and dozens of bone spikes stabbed from behind.

The Old Ancestor's figure flashed, avoiding most of them, but three bone spikes still pierced into his back.

He let out a muffled groan and struck back with a palm, the palm wind like a mountain, forcing Granny Bone to retreat.

Those three bone spikes were still stuck in his back, vibrating slightly with his movements, blood seeping from the wounds and soaking the shattered Daoist robe.

Granny Bone floated back, a trace of admiration flashing in her turbid old eyes: "Eight hundred years of cultivation, truly not bad. Pity, you are going to die here today."

The Old Ancestor did not respond.

He raised his hand to force the bone spikes out of his body; the three bone spikes flew out with flesh and blood, falling into the darkness below.

The wounds were still bleeding, but he could not bother to deal with them.

Tu Gang rushed up again, the black hammer held high, and smashed down.

The Old Ancestor dodged to the side and struck the hammerhead with a backhand palm.

The palm force collided with the hammerhead, emitting a dull, loud noise; Tu Gang was shaken back half a step, but the Old Ancestor retreated a full zhang.

His spiritual energy was consuming rapidly.

Every strike had to be calculated carefully, and every bit of spiritual energy had to be used on the cutting edge.

Fighting one against two, he was already at a disadvantage, and being able to hold on until now was already the limit.

Tu Gang shook his hand, which had been shaken numb, and grinned: "Old thing, your bones are quite hard. I want to see how much longer you can hold on!"

He rushed up again.

This time he did not use the hammer but struck with both fists, the Devilish Qi patterns on his fists lighting up, black Devilish Qi wrapping around his fists like two black meteors.

The Old Ancestor held up a light shield, the fists smashed onto the light shield, the light shield vibrated violently, and cracks spread like spiderwebs.

The Old Ancestor gritted his teeth, injecting the remaining spiritual energy into the light shield, barely maintaining it so it wouldn't shatter.

Granny Bone's attack arrived again.

With a wave of the bone staff, countless bone spikes poured down like a rainstorm, each carrying fierce killing intent.

The Old Ancestor held the light shield with his left hand to block Tu Gang's fists, and raised his right hand, a streak of spiritual light turning into a barrier above his head.

The bone spikes stabbed into the barrier, making dense "thud-thud" sounds, and the barrier was soon covered with cracks.