Chapter 114: The Eight-Directional Pulse-Severing Array

Night had fallen once again. The stars shone brilliantly, and a crescent moon hung in the western sky like a silver hook.

Although the sky was crowded with stars, the earth below was plunged into darkness. The incessant chirping of insects and the roars of beasts were swallowed by the gloom. Across the dark landscape, flashes of radiance flickered intermittently, appearing and disappearing like phantoms.

Only from high above could one witness this truth: beneath the starlit sky, conflict was erupting in countless places. It was far from the quiet, peaceful scene one perceived when gazing up from the ground. The Luoling Mountain Range was but a tiny speck in this vast expanse, no more significant than a single grain of sand among the stars.

The light emitted by the Demon Moon Mirror had grown increasingly soft, to the point where it was difficult to distinguish the five colors originally interwoven within it. The mirror lived up to its name; it hung in the sky like an eerie, demonic moon, casting its light precisely over the irregular shape of Luoling Mountain, not a single ray spilling beyond its borders.

In the void beneath the mirror, a long sword with a green scabbard was thrust diagonally into a mound of yellow earth that looked like a lonely grave. Faint, blood-stained patches marred the soil, and the sword itself radiated a murderous intent that pierced the heavens.

The "Eight Directions Vein-Severing" formation had been completed. It consisted of eight altars, distributed around the perimeter of the Luoling Mountain Range according to the terrain and the alignment of the stars. They appeared chaotic and irregular; the nearest was right beside Luoling Mountain, while the furthest lay several peaks away. The distances between the altars were inconsistent—some were dozens of miles apart, while others were separated by only a mile.

Constructing these altars had taken only three days. No special materials were required; they were built using the rocks found on-site. The crucial factor was the precision of their placement and orientation, a task the Eagle King had personally overseen, directing the various mountain demon kings to execute the construction.

To sever the Taiyin spirit vein of Luoling Mountain, the alignment with the terrain was paramount. Yet, another key element remained: a set of runes capable of resonating with the celestial stars and connecting to the subterranean spirit veins.

The Eagle King had personally inscribed these runes with his vast magical power. As he worked, the clouds churned, and the stars in the sky seemed to burn with an unusual intensity. He chanted a long string of profound, primordial incantations that shook the void, causing the elemental energy of heaven and earth to converge around him.

Pointing his fingers like a sword, he traced rapidly across the center of the earthen altar. A mysterious, arcane character suddenly manifested. The moment the character took shape, a beam of light shot down from the sky, vanishing into the altar in a flash.

The altar, which had seemed utterly ordinary moments before, was instantly veiled in a faint, white glow. One by one, different runes were inscribed upon the remaining seven altars.

Nan Luo heard the Eagle King’s profound, world-connecting incantations with perfect clarity. He recognized the syllables—they were passages from the "Yellow Courtyard" scripture. Yet, rearranged, they served a vastly different purpose.

Nan Luo had always treated the "Yellow Courtyard" scripture as a means to align himself with the Great Dao, never attempting to derive specific spells from it. It was not that he lacked the desire, but he felt that using the scripture’s profound texts to craft sorcery was a case of putting the cart before the horse. Once his cultivation reached the necessary realm and he fully comprehended every word of the scripture, divine abilities and spells would come to him naturally. A mere gesture or a single spoken word would possess the power to shatter mountains and split the earth.

However, having witnessed this specific arrangement of the Great Dao’s profound characters, Nan Luo committed it to memory, just as he had once watched the Taoist Yuanji perform the "calling of wind and rain" among the Yangping clan. Though he now knew that display was merely a spell rather than true mastery over the elements, he still remembered those long, mystical incantations.

All spirit veins in the world are connected, though their characteristics vary based on geography and terrain. Had Nan Luo not been fused with this very vein, he would never have known this.

The Taiyin spirit vein was purely Yin, corresponding to the Taiyin Star in the sky. Since merging with the Taiyin Stele, Nan Luo had sensed a scorching spirit vein thousands of miles away, quite unlike the temperate, nurturing nature of the Taiyin vein.

When the Eagle King’s incantations sounded and the runes ignited on the altars, Nan Luo felt his connection to the northeast grow dim. He fell into deep contemplation, wondering, "Di Jun would never allow this Taiyin Stele to be destroyed. How will he intervene?"

Having been confined and fused with the Stele, Nan Luo finally understood its miraculous nature. Being able to tap into the power of the Taiyin vein was merely a basic function. The boundless, inexhaustible power of the lunar radiance was, quite literally, infinite.

These were the conclusions Nan Luo had drawn; what other specific uses the Stele held for Di Jun remained a mystery to him.

Suddenly, the Eagle King’s chanting echoed again, and the sensation of being severed from the outside world returned.

A sense of foreboding washed over Nan Luo. Everything was not as he had imagined. Since being trapped within the Stele, Di Jun had never appeared. Nan Luo had gained control over the Stele, using it to accomplish many things, but his one frustration remained: he could not leave; he was inextricably bound to the Taiyin vein.

Suddenly, a muffled sound erupted in the void, as if space itself were being torn asunder. Nan Luo recognized this as a syllable of the Great Dao, chanted with immense power, divine ability, and the fusion of heart-blood and soul.

In an instant, Nan Luo felt his connection to the entire world snap. He felt as though he were cast into a pitch-black night, suspended in a void, with only the power of this single mountain vein remaining.

Spirit veins were not immune to depletion; the world was a cycle. If the energy in one vein were drained, it would naturally be replenished by the flow of energy from elsewhere, much like water in the ocean. But now, the Taiyin vein of Luoling Mountain had been truly and utterly severed from the earth.

Nan Luo’s heart trembled. He muttered to himself, "How is this possible? It has actually been severed. Di Jun cannot be unaware of what is happening here. Is he indifferent, or has something occurred that prevents him from intervening? With the current might of the Heavenly Court, what could possibly be beyond their reach?"

Vaguely, Nan Luo sensed a great upheaval occurring in the world, and perhaps he himself was the spark.

A hundred miles east of Luoling Mountain, upon a peak, Hou Yi—white-clad, handsome, and incomparably cold—spoke softly: "The spirit vein is severed."

Three others stood to his left and right. One was naturally Xing Tian, carrying a pair of massive battle-axes; another was Feng Meng, draped in a cloak of red and black.

The third, standing at the edge, was a short man holding a towering black banner. The banner was exceptionally tall and wide, covered in tadpole-like runes. He was short even by human standards, and among the Wu clan, he appeared as a mere child. Yet, he was one of the most famous Great Shamans, surpassed only by Kuafu, Xing Tian, and Hou Yi. His name, Da Feng, stood in stark contrast to his stature.

Though Feng Meng was also a Great Shaman, he was a junior compared to the others, who had ascended to that rank and appeared in the world many years before him.

Before Feng Meng became a Great Shaman, he had studied under Hou Yi for a long time, receiving much guidance. It was only after his ascension that he left to wander the world. He knew the gap between himself and Hou Yi, which was why he had been intimidated by Nan Luo’s reputation. Upon returning, he had immediately sought out Hou Yi to recount how he had been thwarted by the hidden Nan Luo while trying to bring a woman he favored back to his tribe.

At the time, Hou Yi and the others were at the Houtu tribe. Kuafu was there too, but he had not joined them. When the others arrived, they seemed to avoid him intentionally. It was not out of malice; everyone knew that when Nan Luo had led three thousand heavenly soldiers to attack the Houtu tribe, he had watched the slaughter without intervening. Though they felt his intervention would have changed little, they knew it was impossible to expect Kuafu to turn against Nan Luo. They avoided discussing how to deal with him in Kuafu’s presence to spare him, and Kuafu acted as if he heard nothing, quietly stepping away.

Da Feng planted his massive black banner in the ground and grinned, his voice raspy. "I have a brilliant plan, hehe... This plan will distract Nan Luo at the critical moment. We might even be able to slay him without the slightest effort."

Xing Tian shouted from the side, "Da Feng, with so many of us here, why do we need your schemes? Even waiting for those demons to strike first feels beneath us."

"Hehe, why expend extra effort when you can save it? Haha... Feng Meng, let’s go and see what this lady you fancy looks like. Haha..." Da Feng’s raspy laughter drifted through the air, but he had already vanished. Feng Meng glanced at Hou Yi and Xing Tian, whipped his cloak, and soared away like a great bird toward the Fog Tribe.

After speaking that one sentence when the vein was severed, Hou Yi remained silent, his expression unchanging. Xing Tian, however, grumbled a few words at the direction in which Da Feng had vanished.

In another direction, also about a hundred miles from Luoling Mountain, two men stood upon a peak.

One was the dashing young man who had manifested the green-black giant claw that night. The other was his equal in appearance, though he possessed a more flamboyant, roguish charm.

If Bei Ling had seen him, he would have recognized the handsome man in flowing white robes as Niu Lianhua. He had left suddenly that day, only to arrive here. He was seen speaking animatedly to the dashing man who had wielded the giant claw.

Nan Luo felt as if he had been suddenly plunged into darkness, severed from all connection to the earth. His heart was filled with astonishment, but the demon kings who had been waiting for this moment were in a frenzy. In their eyes, the Qingyan Sword and the Demon Moon Mirror had transformed into fragile beauties, waiting only for them to reach out and claim them.