321: Chapter 319 The Righteous Path Collapses, Old Friends Become Demons

Yun Ming unleashed his Tahua Zizai Escape Technique with full force, a five-colored stream of light carving a thin line across the night sky, moving so fast that even Divine Sense could not capture it.

He needed to find the Teleportation Array of the Demonic Cultivators as quickly as possible and seize it before the Nine Nether Roc and Daoist Lord Zhenshan could react.

The map of mountains and rivers contained everyone from two Sects of Spirit Severing Cultivators, and the two Sect Masters were also stationed inside, ready to come out and provide support at any time.

But the problem was, he did not know where the Teleportation Array was.

Jiu Jiu and Yun Xi had been captured to build the array back then, but that was years ago.

They only remembered the general direction—deep within the Ximing Continent, a wasteland shrouded in Devilish Qi.

Now, that wasteland had been destroyed by demon Cultivators, the landscape had changed drastically, and the original landmarks were all gone.

Yun Ming could only rely on vague memories, searching back and forth through the ruins.

He had been searching for three days and had found nothing. Along the way, he had encountered quite a few scattered demon Cultivators, all of whom he had killed in passing.

But it was not demon Cultivators he was looking for, but Demonic Cultivators.

He needed a Demonic Cultivator, preferably one who knew the inside story, to perform a soul search on and find the location of the Teleportation Array.

On the evening of the third day, as the sun set, the clouds on the horizon were dyed a dark red.

As Yun Ming flew over a dried-up swamp and was just preparing to slow down to recover his spiritual power, he suddenly sensed an aura rapidly approaching him.

Late Nascent Soul Stage, thick with Devilish Qi, coming on aggressively.

Yun Ming did not dodge; he stopped in mid-air.

That aura did not restrain itself at all, crashing straight toward him like a meteorite.

A few breaths later, a black Escape Light exploded in front of Yun Ming, and a figure stepped out from the light.

The person wore a black Daoist robe, had a resolute face, and carried a sense of baleful qi between his brows. His cultivation was at the Late Nascent Soul Stage, his aura thick and mixed, with a strong scent of blood mingled in his spiritual power.

His gaze fell upon Yun Ming, scanning him up and down, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a cruel smile.

He did not speak, but raised his hand and unleashed a black sword light, aiming straight for Yun Ming's face.

Yun Ming shifted his feet, unleashing the Tahua Zizai Escape Technique, leaving an afterimage where he had stood.

The black sword light passed through the afterimage and slammed into a desolate mountain behind him, causing the peak to explode and rubble to fly everywhere.

Yun Ming appeared ten zhang away, looking at that black-clad Cultivator.

His pupils constricted slightly.

Not because of the man's cultivation, but because of his face.

He recognized that face.

Sunset Glow Sect, Sword Peak Personal Disciple, Lu Ming.

Back then, he was one of the most gifted Sword Cultivators of the Sunset Glow Sect, capable of killing enemies above his rank while in the Golden Core Stage. The Sect had pinned high hopes on him, and everyone believed he would surely break through to the Nascent Soul stage in the future and become another pillar of the Sunset Glow Sect.

Yun Ming did not have a deep impression of him, but he remembered the name.

"Senior Brother Lu Ming." Yun Ming spoke, his voice not loud, but very clear.

Lu Ming's sword stopped in mid-air, and he did not continue to attack. He frowned and scanned Yun Ming again. There was no surprise at recognizing an old acquaintance in his gaze, only vigilance and scrutiny.

"You know me?"

Yun Ming nodded. "I am also a Disciple of the Sunset Glow Sect. From Alchemy Peak; you might not remember me. When I joined the Sect, you were already a Personal Disciple of Sword Peak."

Lu Ming stared at him for a long time, his frown deepening. He did not recognize Yun Ming, but he did not attack again either. After a moment of silence, he suddenly spoke. "Yun Ming?" His tone carried a hint of uncertainty. "That kid from Alchemy Peak... the one who followed Li Ping?"

Yun Ming nodded. "It's me."

Lu Ming's frown relaxed, but it quickly tightened again. "You also broke through to the Nascent Soul stage?" His gaze roamed over Yun Ming, and the corner of his mouth curled into a mocking smile. "A Five Elements Mixed Spiritual Root, yet you managed to Cultivate to the Nascent Soul stage? You certainly have some luck."

Yun Ming did not reply. He looked at Lu Ming, looked at his Daoist robe soaked in Devilish Qi, and looked at that uncontrollable baleful qi between his brows.

"Senior Brother, you were once a Personal Disciple of the Sunset Glow Sect's Sword Peak, with talent that surpassed all your peers. Why... did you Cultivate a Demonic Technique?" Yun Ming's tone was very calm, without questioning or accusation, just pure bewilderment.

Lu Ming's smile faded, and his eyes turned cold. "Surpassed all my peers? So what?" His voice was very low, as if suppressing something. "When I reached Golden Core Perfection, I knew I had reached my limit. The threshold of the Nascent Soul stage—I couldn't touch it, couldn't reach it. I cultivated for decades without making a single step of progress. Those in the Sect whose Aptitude was inferior to mine, relying on Medicinal Pills, relying on Opportunities, relying on connections, one by one broke through to the Nascent Soul stage. I didn't expect that even a piece of trash like you could break through to the Nascent Soul stage! And me? I have nothing."

His voice grew colder and colder. "What is wrong with a Demonic Technique? There is no Bottleneck to Breakthrough; one only needs to kill some unimportant people. Those people, if they die, they die. Their blood essence, their Golden Core, their Nascent Soul—they are all nutrients for my cultivation. This path is much easier to walk than the Righteous Path."

Yun Ming was silent for a moment. "Senior Brother, back then it was you who personally led the team to execute Demonic Cultivators, and it was you who publicly announced the Demon Suppression Order. Now that you have become a Demonic Cultivator yourself, do you not feel..."

"Not feel what?" Lu Ming interrupted him, his tone full of impatience. "Don't mention the past to me. Back then, I was a Personal Disciple of Sword Peak, a Genius of the Sunset Glow Sect, a pillar of the Righteous Path in everyone's eyes. But what did the Righteous Path give me? It gave me a threshold I could never cross, gave me decades of torment, gave me a set of skills I couldn't use. The Demonic Path gave me power, gave me hope, gave me the possibility of a Breakthrough. Do you think I want to kill those people? Every person I kill reminds me that I can never go back."

Yun Ming looked at him and said nothing.

Lu Ming took a deep breath, suppressing the emotions in his heart, and looked at Yun Ming again. His gaze returned to that scrutinizing, greedy light. "Enough talk. You have quite a few treasures on you, right? Yun Ming, for the sake of us being fellow Disciples, if you hand over all your storage Magic Treasures, I can let your Nascent Soul escape and only refine your Physical Body. This is the last bit of mercy I can give."

Yun Ming looked at him and shook his head. "Senior Brother, I'm afraid I cannot grant your wish."

Lu Ming sneered. "You, an Early Nascent Soul Stage, what do you have to fight me with? I am at the Late Nascent Soul Stage; I don't need ten rounds to kill you. Since you are determined to die, I will grant your wish. Don't worry, it will be quick; it won't hurt too much."

He raised the black longsword in his hand, Devilish Qi surging on the blade, black light flowing. Just as he was about to strike, two figures appeared silently behind Yun Ming.

The one on the left had tiger-like eyes and thick eyebrows, wearing a black Daoist robe, his figure as towering as a mountain. The one on the right had a gaunt face, white hair and white beard, wearing a green Daoist robe, his aura restrained yet making people afraid to look directly at him.

The pressure of two Soul Transformation Stage Cultivators was released simultaneously, like two great mountains descending from the sky, pressing down on Lu Ming's shoulders.

Lu Ming's face turned deathly pale in an instant. His sword froze in mid-air, his fingers trembling—not because of fear, but as an instinctive reaction of his body.

His body was telling him that the two people in front of him could crush him into powder with a casual wave of their hands.

His throat moved as he swallowed with difficulty.

Lu Ming's hand dropped, and the light on the black longsword extinguished. He stood in the air, motionless, like a statue. His mind was blank, with only one thought echoing repeatedly: It's over.

Neither of them spoke, nor did they even make a move. They just stood there, using their pressure to tell Lu Ming: You are not our match. If you want to die, we can grant your wish.

Fine beads of sweat seeped from Lu Ming's forehead, sliding down the bridge of his nose and dripping onto his lapels. His lips moved, wanting to say something, but he could not make a sound. He knew that every word he said now could determine his life or death. He did not want to die; he had finally broken through to the Nascent Soul stage with such difficulty, finally possessing the cultivation and power he had today. He did not want to die here, in front of this Junior Brother he had once looked down upon, dying like a dog.

Yun Ming looked at him, looked at his pale face, looked at his trembling fingers, and looked at the unwillingness in his eyes—the reluctance to admit defeat, yet the necessity of submission. He did not speak, just watched quietly.

Yun Ming turned around and looked at the two Sect Masters. "Could you let me have a few words with him alone?"

The Sect Master of the Divine Forging Sect glanced at him, said nothing, and stepped back a few paces with the Master of Xuanhuang Alchemy Mansion, leaving the space for Yun Ming and Lu Ming. Their pressure was not withdrawn, but it was slightly restrained so that Lu Ming would not be unable to even stand.

Yun Ming looked at Lu Ming. "Senior Brother, you asked me earlier what I had to fight you with. Now, do you still want to fight?"

Lu Ming's lips moved, but he made no sound. His gaze passed over Yun Ming and landed on the two mountain-like figures behind him. He saw their slightly furrowed brows, saw the indifference in their eyes, and saw their posture, ready to strike at any moment. He knew that if he nodded, if he said the word "fight," he would die immediately. Not killed by Yun Ming, but killed by those two Spirit Severing Cultivators. There would be no suspense, no surprises.

Lu Ming closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. His voice was hoarse, as if squeezed from deep within his throat. "What do you want?"