155: Chapter 155 This is the Right Path

This is the Righteous Path?

For the sake of a single Storage Pouch, they abandoned their allies.

For the sake of a single Storage Pouch, they nearly drew swords against each other.

Were the lives of those fallen Jinyang Sect Disciples worth less than a Storage Pouch?

He suddenly recalled that day outside the hall when the winds and clouds shifted, and the Elderly Sect Master of Jinyang Sect said, "To serve as cannon fodder for your Qinglan Sword Sect."

At the time, he felt those words were far too extreme.

Thinking back now, perhaps that old Sect Master had seen through it all long ago.

Just then, an angry shout echoed from the sky.

"Everyone, stop!"

A figure descended from the heavens, landing between the two of them.

True Lord Three Swords.

He was covered in blood, and his aura was somewhat erratic, clearly having just endured a fierce battle.

But his gaze remained as sharp as a sword as it swept over the two men, forcing the confronting Elder Gao and the Jinyang Sect Elder to lower their heads involuntarily.

"The Great War has not ended, yet internal strife breaks out first?"

True Lord Three Swords said coldly.

"Do you want the Demonic Cult to laugh at us?"

Elder Gao's lips moved, wanting to defend himself, but he was silenced by a single look from True Lord Three Swords.

"Get back and guard your positions."

True Lord Three Swords commanded.

"If there is a next time, do not blame me for showing no mercy."

Elder Gao lowered his head and turned to leave.

The Jinyang Sect Elder also gritted his teeth, leading the remaining Disciples to retreat to the side.

The internal strife was temporarily quelled.

True Lord Three Swords rejoined the battle once more.

But Li Changsheng knew that a rift had already formed.

He looked up toward the sky.

Among the clouds, several Nascent Soul figures were still locked in combat.

Ancestor Xue Ming was bathed in blood yet remained ferocious; True Lord Three Swords' sword techniques were divine, every strike carrying a sense of awe-inspiring righteousness.

But those things were too far away from him.

He was merely a Foundation Establishment Initial Stage Disciple who had just survived the battlefield.

He lowered his head, preparing to find a place to rest, when his peripheral vision suddenly caught a strange figure.

It was a Golden Core Elder of the Jinyang Sect, currently standing in the shadows of some ruins with his back to the crowd, seemingly doing something.

Li Changsheng's heart tightened; he quietly shifted his steps, changing his angle to get a better look.

He saw the Elder holding a blood-red jade talisman in his hand.

His lips moved slightly as if chanting something. A moment later, the jade talisman flashed faintly and transformed into an extremely weak streak of bloody light, flying off into the distance.

That was... a Message Talisman.

And it was a Message Talisman of the Demonic Cult.

Li Changsheng's pupils suddenly constricted.

He recognized those runes; he had seen them on the altars at Luanshi Ridge and Qinghe Town, and on the bodies of the Blood Fiend Sect Cultivators.

That kind of blood-red glow and that eerie aura—there was no mistaking it.

That Jinyang Sect Elder was sending a message to the Blood Fiend Sect and the Demonic Cult!

Li Changsheng's heart beat like thunder, and cold sweat seeped from his palms.

What should he do?

Rush forward and expose him?

He was only at the Foundation Establishment Initial Stage, while the other party was at the Golden Core Stage; the man could crush him with a single finger.

Pretend he didn't see anything?

But if that Elder really was a traitor, who knew how many more Disciples would die at his hands?

He hesitated.

Just as he was wavering, the Elder seemed to sense something and suddenly turned his head.

Li Changsheng's heart seized; he quickly lowered his head, pretending to wipe the blood from his sword.

The Elder's gaze lingered on him for an instant before moving away.

A moment later, he turned and left, disappearing into the ruins.

Li Changsheng looked up toward that direction, his palms drenched in sweat.

He did not move.

He was just a Foundation Establishment Initial Stage Disciple; he had neither the status nor the ability to expose a Golden Core Stage traitor.

He could only keep this matter in his heart and then... survive.

Behind him, Zhao Qian walked over and asked in a low voice.

"Senior Brother, what's wrong? Your face looks terrible."

Li Changsheng shook his head and did not speak.

He stood up, gripped his sword tightly, and walked toward the defensive line.

Regardless, the battle continued.

He had to survive.

Survive until the day he could expose that traitor.

The battle at the Jinyang Sect's mountain gate reached a brief period of calm on the afternoon of the third day.

The Demonic Cult Alliance temporarily retreated, leaving behind a ground covered in corpses and broken ruins.

The survivors seized this rare chance to breathe, beginning to treat the wounded, count losses, and reinforce the defenses.

Li Changsheng was temporarily assigned to the medical team.

It wasn't because he knew medicine, but because they were simply too short-handed.

Those Disciples with lighter injuries were all assigned to help carry stretchers, deliver water, and bandage wounds. He was no exception.

"Senior Brother Li, over here!"

Zhao Qian's voice came from not far away. Ever since being saved by Li Changsheng, this kid had stuck by his side, impossible to drive away.

He was currently standing by a pile of ruins, waving at Li Changsheng.

Li Changsheng walked over and saw three wounded men lying at his feet.

Two wore the attire of the Jinyang Sect, and one wore the attire of the Qinglan Sword Sect; all were at the Foundation Establishment Initial Stage, with shocking wounds on their bodies.

"Help me hold him down,"

Zhao Qian pointed at the wounded Qinglan Sword Sect Disciple.

"I need to apply the medicine."

Li Changsheng crouched down and pressed on the wounded man's shoulders.

The Disciple was pale with pain and trembling all over, but he gritted his teeth and didn't make a sound.

Zhao Qian clumsily sprinkled medicinal powder onto the wound, getting it all over his hands.

Seeing his clumsy manner, Li Changsheng couldn't help but say,

"Be gentler."

Zhao Qian sheepishly lightened his movements, muttering under his breath.

"I... this is my first time applying medicine to someone..."

The wounded man forced a smile and said haltingly,

"Ma... many thanks, Junior Brothers..."

Li Changsheng shook his head and didn't speak.

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out in the crowd.

"The people from Medicine King Valley are here!"

"Medicinal Pills! They have Medicinal Pills!"

"Quick, make way!"

Li Changsheng looked up and saw a cyan Flying Boat slowly landing on the empty ground beside the ruins.

The hatch opened, and a group of Disciples dressed in green robes filed out. Leading them was an old man with white hair and beard, his aura profound—he was clearly at the Golden Core Late Stage.

The reinforcements from Medicine King Valley had finally arrived.

The old man stepped off the Flying Boat, his brow furrowed as his gaze swept over the devastated battlefield.

Behind him followed over a dozen Disciples, each carrying a large medicine chest on their back, filled with various healing pills.

"Elder Wu of Medicine King Valley has arrived."

A Medicine King Valley Disciple shouted loudly.

"Where are the wounded? Lead us to them!"

The Jinyang Sect Disciples' spirits were instantly lifted, and they surged forward, leading the Medicine King Valley people toward the area where the wounded were gathered.

Li Changsheng also breathed a sigh of relief.

With the people from Medicine King Valley here, these wounded would be saved.

He was about to continue his work when he suddenly heard an argument behind him.

"...On what basis are they given priority? Our Qinglan Sword Sect people are also seriously injured!"

Looking back, he saw several Qinglan Sword Sect Disciples surrounding a young Disciple from Medicine King Valley, their faces full of anger.

The Medicine King Valley Disciple was surrounded, his face somewhat pale, but his attitude was firm.

"Elder Wu has ordered that the wounded from Jinyang Sect and Qingxin Pavilion be treated first."

"Those from the Qinglan Sword Sect will have to wait."

"Wait? Wait for how long? Our people can barely hold on!"

"That is your business."

The Medicine King Valley Disciple said coldly.

"Medicinal Pills are limited; they must be allocated according to the severity and urgency of the situation."

"The Jinyang Sect has the heaviest casualties, followed by Qingxin Pavilion. As for your Qinglan Sword Sect..."

"Hmph, do you not have any sense of the situation yourselves?"

"You—!"

Those Qinglan Sword Sect Disciples were trembling with rage, their hands on their sword hilts, looking as if they were about to strike.

Just then, a figure descended from the sky, landing in their midst.