Chapter Fifty-Two: In the Midst of the Killing Karma

With a commanding shout from the Daoist of Ming and Qing, disciples from the nine sects began to file into the teleportation gates. Zhang Xiao naturally blended into the crowd, approaching the portal with them. Yet, just as he was about to step through, he suddenly paused, his expression shifting. After carefully surveying his surroundings, he strode boldly into the gate. A faint dizziness followed, and when Zhang Xiao opened his eyes, he scrutinized the new environment: the scenery resembled a primordial jungle, with towering trees and thick grass stretching as far as the eye could see, filled with plants he had never encountered before.

Zhang Xiao frowned, recalling the secret voice transmission he had received moments before entering the gate: “Hide yourself, do not draw attention, or certain death awaits.” Such covert transmissions could only be performed by cultivators at the Nascent Soul stage, executed without anyone noticing. But who had sent him this warning, and what did it truly mean? One thing Zhang Xiao was certain of: the sender was not Chief Kong Xuan. By Kong Xuan’s decree, aside from a handful of elite disciples from the Ten Thousand Demons Sect, all others were to be slain on sight, never allowed to conceal themselves. Moreover, stealing the Five-Colored Cloud Banner would inevitably attract attention. Was this warning kindly meant or merely a ploy?

A thunderous explosion erupted nearby, breaking Zhang Xiao’s train of thought. After entering Feixia Mountain, all sect disciples had fallen into a chaotic battle. Zhang Xiao blurred into motion, using his Divine Foot Technique to dash toward the central Feixia Golden Tower. The tower soared from the heart of the mountain, immense and piercing the clouds, visible from anywhere on Feixia Mountain.

Zhang Xiao had no wish to meddle; he sped toward the tower. Unfortunately, he underestimated the cunning of the other disciples and soon found himself trapped in a formation. Several disciples from Dragon Tiger Mountain emerged, manipulating the array to attack him. Zhang Xiao’s expression darkened; such a formation could not restrain him, let alone kill him. With a single punch, he sent a disciple flying, shattering the magical treasure in his hand. “He’s a Golden Core stage master! Run!” One disciple, recognizing Zhang Xiao’s prowess, realized their formation was useless and hastily dismantled it, fleeing at top speed.

A cold gleam flashed in Zhang Xiao’s eyes. “You think you can just run after attacking me?” He conjured the Seven Techniques of Maoshan in rapid succession, merging the seven spells into a black mist that enveloped the Dragon Tiger Mountain disciples. Piercing screams rang out from the mist; these disciples, only at the Foundation Establishment stage, had no chance against Zhang Xiao’s methods, and in moments were dissolved into piles of rotten flesh.

Zhang Xiao stepped forward, collecting the magical treasures left behind—four in all, the rest mere spiritual tools. He smiled; this place was indeed a gold mine. Though most of the treasures were low-grade, he could always gift them to others. After eliminating these disciples, Zhang Xiao pushed onward toward Feixia Golden Tower, but this time did not use his Divine Foot Technique. Instead, he moved swiftly and cautiously through the forest. The closer he drew to the tower, the more experts he would encounter. The Divine Foot Technique, though fast, generated strong fluctuations of spiritual energy—he had no wish to reveal himself prematurely. Everywhere he passed, battles raged, the carnage so fierce it sent chills down his spine. Most memorable was the group of disciples from the Heavenly Demon Pavilion who self-destructed, taking a Golden Core master from the Five Venoms Sect with them.

Such ruthless tactics reminded him that, no matter how powerful he was, facing dozens of Golden Core disciples would make victory uncertain. Thus, Zhang Xiao grew ever more cautious. Suddenly, his expression changed; without hesitation, he invoked the Divine Foot Technique, dodging at lightning speed. A massive fireball crashed down from the sky, incinerating the woods where he had been hiding.

“Hahaha, Golden Core stage experts are indeed impressive!” A middle-aged man emerged silently from nearby; even Zhang Xiao hadn’t noticed him standing there. Zhang Xiao, wasting no words, unleashed the Seven Techniques of Maoshan, forming a black mist that surged at the man. The man merely smiled, unconcerned, and as the mist approached, a blue radiance surrounded him, blocking Zhang Xiao’s attack. Zhang Xiao expected as much and summoned the White Bone Fan—its full name, the White Bone Black Wind Fan. Instilling spiritual energy, he waved it, sending out several blasts of black wind that shredded everything in their path. Yet, no matter how fierce the winds, they were stopped by the opponent’s blue radiance.

“Hahaha, is that all you’ve got? Let me show you mine!” the man boasted, producing a long ruler and striking at Zhang Xiao. Zhang Xiao blocked with the White Bone Fan, but with a loud crack, the fan was pierced. “Let’s see you handle this!” The middle-aged man advanced, swinging his ruler at Zhang Xiao’s head. At that moment, he noticed the contempt and mockery in Zhang Xiao’s eyes. His heart chilled—he realized he’d fallen for a trap. He turned to flee, but Zhang Xiao would not let him escape. “You destroyed one of my treasures; you won’t leave without a word!” Golden light erupted from Zhang Xiao as he struck with his palm.

The man saw Zhang Xiao coming at him bare-handed and sneered. His armor was a fifth-grade defensive treasure; even a full-powered strike with a magical artifact might not break it, let alone bare hands. His confidence reignited, and he attacked with his ruler, his smile broadening, as if Zhang Xiao would soon be beaten bloody. But before he could finish his grin, the blue shield shattered like glass. With a dull thud, Zhang Xiao’s palm slammed into his chest.

The middle-aged man stared in shock at his caved-in chest, blood mixed with fragments of flesh spewing from his mouth. “How is this possible…” he gasped. Zhang Xiao punched him again in the head, smashing it to pulp. “Hmph,” Zhang Xiao muttered, gazing down at the corpse. He gathered up the fallen magical treasures and quickly left using the Divine Foot Technique; the commotion would surely attract attention.

“Kill!” Suddenly, hundreds of disciples from the Ten Thousand Demons Sect gathered, launching a massacre against the five righteous sects, while joining with other demon sects. The righteous disciples, seeing this, responded to their chief disciples’ commands, quickly regrouping. Zhang Xiao watched the gathering signals flicker across the sky, his brow furrowed; events were spiraling beyond expectation. But since they were slaughtering each other, Zhang Xiao could not be bothered, carefully advancing toward the Feixia Golden Tower.

“Senior brother, I finally found you!” As Zhang Xiao neared the tower, a figure appeared before him. He was surprised—it was none other than Zhou Yuan, the chief disciple of their sect. Yet Zhang Xiao remained vigilant, growing even more wary.

“Junior brother, how did you end up here? It seems you were specifically looking for me?” Zhou Yuan nodded with a smile, producing a jade talisman. “Master asked me to give this to you.” He tossed the talisman to Zhang Xiao, who examined it—it was a voice transmission talisman. Zhang Xiao’s heart sank with a sense of foreboding. Injecting a trace of spiritual energy, a message emerged:

“Zhou Yuan will seize the flag at Feixia Golden Tower. The disciples of the nine sects will converge for a great battle. At the crucial moment, Ten Thousand Demons Sect will turn against their allies, disrupting the demon sects. You must hold off the remaining experts’ counterattack. Also, Wang Yanbo has betrayed his comrades and deserves death. Kill him.”

Zhang Xiao’s face changed. The task was not difficult, but what did it have to do with Wang Yanbo? Betrayal? Was this some hidden move by the chief? If there was no deeper intrigue, he would never believe it. Yet he could not ignore the chief’s words. As Zhang Xiao hesitated, the voice talisman in his hand suddenly shattered. Zhou Yuan smiled: “Senior brother, you’ve heard master’s instructions. Feixia Golden Tower is reserved for battles among chief disciples, so please oversee the outer sects. I wish you great success and unparalleled merit.”

With that, Zhou Yuan transformed into blue light and flew toward the tower. Watching Zhou Yuan depart, Zhang Xiao smiled quietly. A golden light shot from his forehead, heading toward the tower. He had no issue overseeing the sects, yet he coveted that supreme treasure as well. Others might be unable to split themselves, but Zhang Xiao had a clone. Releasing his avatar, Zhang Xiao used the Divine Foot Technique, speeding toward the battlefield where the nine sects clashed.

When he arrived, the battle was already raging; the sky was filled with streaks of magical treasures. Zhang Xiao’s eyes flashed coldly as he hid nearby, watching and waiting. Though the demon sects numbered only four, their arts were as strange and formidable as those of Maoshan. Hundreds of Five Venoms Sect disciples spat poisonous gases, while the Heavenly Demon Pavilion summoned demonic entities. Most astonishing was the Nine Fiends Palace; every disciple exuded murderous energy, wielding ferocious treasures. Many righteous disciples had fallen to their hands, especially the leading disciple, whose sword unleashed endless malevolent energy, forcing even the famous sword sect of Shushan to retreat in defeat.

As for the Ten Thousand Demons Sect, all its disciples hid in the rear, forming a strange array, its purpose unknown. “Boom!” Ghostly wails echoed from the sky; Zhang Xiao looked up to see black clouds swirling, spectral figures rolling within. The chief disciple of Shaolin Buddhist Sect stepped forth and shouted, “Quick, that’s the Gate of Ten Thousand Demons—stop them!”

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