429: Chapter 429 Situ E? Zhao Qian? They've entered the tiger's den again!

The twilight was like ink, and the mountain wind was biting.

That harsh applause still echoed in the darkness, one beat, then another, then another—unhurried and steady, as if toying with prey.

The fighting spirit that had just ignited within the Hehuan Sect was doused by this applause as if by a bucket of cold water; the expressions on many faces shifted from determination to vigilance, and then from vigilance to fear.

Xu Ruyu's pupils constricted slightly, his hand already pressed against his storage ring.

His Divine Sense quietly spread outward, like mercury spilling onto the ground, probing forward without a sound.

The Divine Sense of an Early Saint Realm cultivator revealed its value at this moment—those few blurry figures gradually became clear within his perception.

Then, his heart sank abruptly.

Situ E. The Jile Sect Master, a titan of the Demonic Path at the Half-step Saint Realm.

He wore an ornate robe, half-open at the chest, revealing bronze-colored skin and several hideous scars.

His face was handsome, yet it exuded an indescribable evil aura; his lips curled into an ambiguous smile, and his eyes flickered with the playful glint of a cat toying with a mouse.

Behind him followed dozens of Jile Sect experts, the lowest of whom were at the Golden Core Peak, with at least a dozen at the Nascent Soul Stage. There were also two old men with unfathomable auras standing to his left and right, exuding a suffocating pressure—they were two Grand Elders at the Early Saint Realm!

Xu Ruyu calculated rapidly in his mind: on his side, besides himself, the strongest were Leng Ningshuang, Zhao Yan, and Ning Caihe, all at the Soul Transformation Stage.

The opposition had two at the Saint Realm alone, one at the Half-step Saint Realm, over a dozen at the Nascent Soul Stage, and dozens at the Golden Core Stage. This battle could not be won.

What was worse— "Sect Master, there are people behind us too!" Zhou Daniu exclaimed, his voice trembling.

Xu Ruyu did not turn back; his Divine Sense had already sensed it. Behind him, another crowd of people was swarming up, pitch-black and dense.

At the lead was a cold-faced middle-aged man wearing a cyan sword robe, surrounded by Sword Qi and exuding a sharp, murderous intent.

His face was gaunt with high cheekbones, his triangular eyes full of sinister and ruthless intent, and his mouth turned downward, giving him a naturally mean appearance. It was Zhao Qian. An Elder of the Tianshu Sword Sect, a Sword Cultivator at the Saint Realm Peak.

Behind him followed dozens of Tianshu Sword Sect Disciples, each holding a long sword, their Sword Intent awe-inspiring.

Although their cultivation was not as terrifying as the Jile Sect's, they were superior in their strict discipline and orderly formation; one could tell at a glance that they were well-trained elites.

They silently blocked the Hehuan Sect's retreat, not a single person speaking; only the occasional metallic sound of sword sheaths colliding was exceptionally harsh in the twilight.

Xu Ruyu's heart sank completely to the bottom. Ahead lay the Jile Sect, and behind stood the Tianshu Sword Sect.

To the left was a steep cliff, craggy and barren, with not a blade of grass growing, making climbing almost impossible; to the right was a bottomless canyon, pitch black and invisible, where only the sound of wind whistling through the valley could be heard, like ghosts wailing and wolves howling.

The three hundred or so members of the Hehuan Sect were tightly sandwiched in the middle, with no path forward or back.

The Demonic Path and the Righteous Path had actually joined forces. No, not joined forces. They were each harboring their own ulterior motives, yet their goal was the same—both were coming for the Hehuan Sect.

Situ E wanted Xiao Nianyin, he wanted to humiliate Xu Ruyu, and he wanted revenge for being toyed with last time.

Zhao Qian also wanted Xiao Nianyin, but what he wanted was not the person, but her life. It was the life of the woman who had made him love without hope, turning that love into hate, and finally twisting it into a bone-deep grudge.

The group behind the Hehuan Sect instantly fell into extreme panic.

Zhou Daniu's face was deathly pale, cold sweat streaming down his forehead, and he subconsciously clenched his fists, but his palms were soaked with sweat.

He was not afraid of death, but this sense of hopelessness from being besieged made him feel cold to the bone.

He remembered how, just moments ago at the mountain gate, he had been clamoring to fight the Taihu Clan to the death; now he realized what a true desperate situation looked like.

Li Ergou's legs were shaking, his teeth chattering, but he gritted his teeth and refused to take a single step back.

His mind was a blank slate, with only one thought—the Sect Master must have a way, the Sect Master must have a way.

Zhao Tiezhu was bare-chested, his chest heaving violently like a trapped wild beast, his eyes filled with despair and unwillingness.

He looked around, searching for a possible way out, but to the left was a cliff, to the right was an abyss, in front was the Demonic Path, and behind was the Righteous Path—dead ends, dead ends, everything was a dead end.

Sun Xiaohua, Zhou Xiaolian, and a few other female Disciples huddled together, their faces as pale as paper and their lips purple. They had just escaped the humiliation of the Taihu Clan and hadn't even had a chance to catch their breath before falling into an even greater trap.

A Junior Sister sobbed softly: "Are we... are we going to die here?" The voice was very soft, yet it felt like a knife cutting into everyone's heart.

"We won't!" Sun Xiaohua gritted her teeth, her voice trembling, "The Sect Master is here; we won't die!"

But her eyes were also filled with fear. She didn't know what other methods Xu Ruyu could have; in such a desperate situation, what else could be done?

A few young Disciples had already started to cry, only to have their mouths covered by the Senior Brothers and Senior Sisters nearby, fearing that the crying would attract more enemies.

Some squatted on the ground, holding their heads, trembling all over. Others pressed their hands together, their lips moving, not knowing which god they were praying to.

The Grand Elder's face was livid; he had lived for most of his life and had never seen such a desperate situation. With wolves in front and tigers behind, the lives of over three hundred people all hung on Xu Ruyu alone.

His hands were trembling, but he forced himself to hold on, not wanting the Disciples to see his fear.