77: Chapter 77 The Mad Cthulhu Scholar Has Arrived

The anomalies surged from all directions like a tide. They no longer attacked the camp, nor did they pay any attention to the Cultivators who were shrinking their defensive shields. All of their focus was concentrated on the dark-green figure hovering above the ruins.

The atmosphere in the camp suddenly grew tense at this moment. Elder Han of the Tianque Sect was the last to fly up from the fissure in the ground, his face pale and grim, his spiritual energy fluctuations appearing chaotic and exhausted after the fierce battle. The remnants of the Magic Treasures offered by the Imperial Family were still emitting black smoke, the shield of the Commander of the Imperial Guards had been pushed to its limit, and the Centurion was directing the last group of Imperial Guards who could still stand to carry the wounded upwind.

The Third Princess stood right in the center of the camp, the Phoenix Jade Token in her palm burning hot, its emblem's light already weakened by more than half compared to before the battle began. Everyone was looking in the same direction.

'We must retreat,' Elder Han's voice was resolute, breaking the camp's brief silence. 'All personnel, evacuate the territory of Ranhuo City immediately. The underground Seal has been destroyed, and the anomalies outside the city are converging here at a speed far exceeding our estimates. Ranhuo City is completely out of control. If we stay, there is only one outcome: death!'

Tu Ziguan was squatting on the ground changing the maxim's ammunition belt. Hearing this, he slammed the bolt forward and stood up.

'Retreat? You want me to retreat?' His voice was extremely low and hoarse, the brass-cased ammunition belt creaking as he gripped it tightly. 'Look around you! Are the anomalies attacking you now? Huh? They are all moving in one direction! They are all gathering toward him! Even if you pull the defensive line back five hundred yards, they won't even spare you a glance. You want to retreat? Retreat to sit on a flying vessel, drinking hot tea, and then have someone collect his corpse?'

Elder Han did not argue with him, but simply turned his gaze toward Qin Tianzong.

Qin Tianzong stood on a rock at the edge of the camp, looking at the figure in mid-air. The three-petaled flame in Xie Feng's left eye flickered in the darkness.

Qin Tianzong fell silent. He knew that every word Tu Ziguan said was the truth. The surrounding anomalies had indeed stopped attacking the camp; they were all being drawn toward Xie Feng by his aura, like moths rushing toward a campfire burning lonely in the deep night wilderness.

But the campfire that attracts the moths will eventually be extinguished by them.

Qiao Song leaned out from behind, his face smudged with several streaks of blackish-gray charcoal ash. 'Tu Wu, Elder Han's words aren't without reason. The number of anomalies is still doubling. If we don't leave now, we won't be able to leave even if we want to later. Besides, Xie Feng right now...'

Before he could finish, Tu Ziguan had already turned to face him, his lips trembling, filled with an uncontrollable emotion welling up from his stomach.

Gu Jian took a step forward and stood by Tu Ziguan's side. He didn't say a word, only drawing his new sword half an inch from its scabbard. Embedded in the handguard was the Cold Crystal given to him by Master Huo, casting a grayish-blue cold light onto his face. The last time, during the Mirror Tomb mission, he hadn't accompanied Xie Feng, and Xie Feng had gouged out his own eyes. This time, he didn't want a repeat of that.

The Third Princess turned from the center of the camp and walked up to Tu Ziguan.

'Tu Ziguan, this Palace asks you,' she looked up at him, 'how certain are you that you can bring Xie Feng back alive?'

Tu Ziguan bit his lip until it bled, a trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth.

The Third Princess continued, 'This Palace knows a thing or two about the things on him, and you probably do too. On a battlefield where he carries such things, how much can you, a mere Third-Realm Cultivator, possibly help him?'

For the Third Princess, this was already a condescension. She had no need to explain all this to a low-level Sect Cultivator, but in the end, she was the one who had nodded and allowed Xie Feng to take the risk. The Imperial Family would not shirk its responsibility, which was why she spoke to comfort and persuade him.

Tu Ziguan remained silent, standing rooted to the spot.

He knew the Third Princess was right, but he simply didn't want to leave.

'This Palace does not wish to retreat either.' The Third Princess turned around, facing all the Cultivators in the center of the camp who were still waiting for orders. Elder Han's brow, which had only half-unfurled, froze instantly.

'But before setting off, this Palace promised him that we would evacuate the commoners first, then the Cultivators, leaving behind enough repair personnel. Now, repair is no longer possible. Ranhuo City is destroyed, and this Palace must prioritize preserving the lives of everyone present. Abandoning him is something this Palace is even more unwilling to do than any of you, but he is no longer an ordinary Cultivator. Every mark on him is drawing the anomalies of the entire Qingzhou toward this place. That he can stand here today is due to the balance between the gods. Once that balance is broken, everyone will die with him.'

She turned to Mo Tang and Gu Jian. 'If you stay here, you will only distract him during the struggle among the gods. Everyone, we must retreat.'

Mo Tang remained silent for a long time, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the hemp rope of the wooden box. Then, biting her lip, she slung the wooden box onto her back. 'The Puppets can still hold out for the time it takes an incense stick to burn,' she said. 'I will cover the rear with you until then.'

Gu Jian glanced at her, pushed his new sword back into its scabbard, and uttered two words: 'Half that.'

Tu Ziguan looked at them, then turned his head to look at Xie Feng's figure in mid-air.

'I'm not leaving,' Tu Ziguan said. 'The last time we left him behind in the Mirror Tomb, he lost a pair of eyes! I've regretted it to this day. This time, I would rather...!'

Without anyone noticing when, Elder Qin stood behind him. He raised his right hand and struck the back of Tu Ziguan's neck extremely lightly and swiftly. The strike from a Seventh-Realm Cultivator was controlled with absolute precision, just enough to cut off consciousness without causing the slightest harm.

Tu Ziguan's body went limp, the maxim's bolt slipping from his hand, and the ammunition belt clattered sharply against the ground.

Qin Tianzong caught his body and carefully laid it on the ground, the maxim's bolt still glowing with the residual light of its runic circuits. Then he stood up and shouted to everyone in the camp, 'Disciples of the Qingyun Sect, retreat!'

The flying vessel of the Qingyun Sect was the first to ascend into the air. The flying vessels of the Imperial Family and the Tianque Sect followed closely behind. The runic barrier shrank to form the final line of defense around the perimeter of the camp. The Centurion led the Imperial Guards to cover the rear, their blade formations continuously cleaving through the remaining anomalies that attempted to approach the flying vessels in the darkness.

Mo Tang squatted by the ship's bulwark, pouring her spiritual energy into the Puppet's core. The Puppet inside the wooden box spread its arms one last time, blocking a dark-type anomaly that lunged toward the rear of the flying vessel. Gu Jian stood at the stern, his new sword unsheathed, staring at the dark-green figure growing more and more distant above the ruins, until the flying vessel accelerated and plunged into the morning light at the edge of the dark canopy.

Meanwhile, in the sky, Xie Feng had already realized he could not completely wipe out the anomalies, and his mouth began to chant incessantly.

With every brief sound that fell, a massive figure would manifest on the ground.

It was an extremely bloated, obese, giant humanoid body, its skin gleaming with a pale luster like that of a drowned corpse. The most terrifying part was that it had no head; its neck was merely a wet, soft, blurry cross-section, as if the head had been cleanly sliced off from the root. Its actual facial features grew in the palms of its hands: each palm split open into a swollen, everted mouth, with a thick, wriggling tongue protruding from between the lips.

An aura of corruption and inversion constantly emanated from this ugly, exposed corpse. The God of Vice and Depravity, the Defiler, the God of Corruption, had sent His projection here.

Yet Xie Feng's mouth did not stop just because a projection had appeared; instead, he continued to speak:

'Ygolonac!'