Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada

As the shaking of the bronze bell finally ceased, Song Changsheng quietly let out a sigh of relief. With a subtle shift of thought, the Profound Sun Heavenly Firmament Array slowly unfolded.

Song Changsheng had considered seizing this cave dwelling for himself, but he was a man of principles; he would not betray others before they betrayed him.

“It’s open! They did it!” Li Hu was the first to notice the array had been deactivated, and shouted with delight.

Zhu Yiqun and the others broke into smiles as well—they had succeeded!

With the array’s dispersal, Song Changsheng and Xu Yun revealed themselves. Xu Yun’s face was etched with deep shame; she had become lost in the array mere moments after entering. This victory belonged entirely to Song Changsheng.

She had once resented Zhu Yiqun for inviting another along with her, but now she realized that without Song Changsheng, they would have failed yet again.

“Song, your mastery of arrays is truly extraordinary. I humbly concede defeat,” Xu Yun bowed respectfully to Song Changsheng before the others.

“You flatter me, Miss Xu. I was merely fortunate,” Song Changsheng replied, rushing forward to help her up.

Just as he extended his hand, a warning surged in his heart. He glanced up and saw a streak of blackish-red light speeding toward them from afar.

“Watch out—!” Song Changsheng cried out in alarm.

Xu Yun had yet to understand his meaning and turned around in confusion, only to be struck with terror.

The next instant—

A sickening sound rang out as Xu Yun’s head exploded like a watermelon, blood and brain matter spraying in all directions—a scene of ghastly violence.

The others were stunned by the suddenness of it. Swordsman Xu Yunhe was the first to react, drawing his longsword and shouting, “It’s an ambush! Beware of a sneak attack!”

The rest snapped out of their daze and quickly summoned their magical weapons, their eyes fixed warily on the direction from which the attack had come.

More blackish-red beams swept over them like a tide, but now Song Changsheng and his companions were prepared. Most of the attacks were blocked, though two cultivators at the seventh level of Qi Refinement suffered minor wounds.

“This is the Blood Demon Sect’s method of attack—this is a snare laid by the Blood Demons!” Zhuang Yuechan, cradling an ancient zither in her arms, spoke with an ethereal voice.

Song Changsheng gave her a thoughtful glance. To recognize the Blood Demons’ technique at a glance—her background must be anything but simple.

“They’re coming!” Li Hu roared, his muscles bulging and taking on a metallic sheen—a hallmark of body cultivators, whose flesh was as formidable as magic weapons.

With his shout, more than thirty blood demon cultists wielding a variety of demonic weapons surged in from all directions.

At the first clash, a myriad of spells burst forth in dazzling colors, painting the battlefield in riotous hues.

Song Changsheng hovered with his treasured gourd above his head, shielded by a watery barrier. Thick water dragons roared across the field, devouring two mid-stage blood demon cultivators.

At the front, Li Hu had become an iron juggernaut, charging with his Vajra claws at full force, mowing down enemies unopposed.

Zhu Yiqun revealed the full strength of his peak Qi Refinement, wielding a massive black cauldron. Any foe struck by it met with shattered bones and snapped tendons.

The most radiant, however, was Xu Yunhe. Sword in hand, he strode calmly across the battlefield, sharp sword aura swirling around him; none dared draw near within thirty feet.

The most out of place was Zhuang Yuechan, seated elegantly at the edge of the field, her zither laid across her knees. Her slender fingers plucked the strings, and the delicate music rippled outward—at first like crystalline spring water, a soothing, enchanting melody.

But as her playing shifted, the sound morphed into the clangor of war, brimming with heroic resolve, stirring the blood of Song Changsheng and his allies, making their power surge as if intoxicated.

For the blood demon cultists, however, the music became a deadly blade, slashing through their ranks without warning.

For a time, the two sides were evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.

“Pathetic rabble!” came a cold snarl from above.

The Black Steward stood on his sword high in the air, eyes full of disdain at the chaos below.

He swept down, flicking his sleeve; in an instant, two cultivators at the seventh level of Qi Refinement were blasted into clouds of blood.

“A Foundation Establishment demonic cultivator!” Zhu Yiqun cried in horror, cold dread filling his heart.

Li Hu, blood-soaked and charging forward, saw the Black Steward and his pupils contracted; he immediately tried to retreat.

The Black Steward sneered, “Trying to run now? Too late.” With a flick of his finger, a blood beam pierced Li Hu’s prized body.

Li Hu’s face twisted in unwillingness before he exploded, leaving not a trace behind.

“Li!” Xu Yunhe’s eyes filled with rage. He spun his sword and unleashed a brilliant arc of sword light.

“You dare attack me? Courting death,” the Black Steward scoffed, slashing a yard-long blood beam that devoured the sword light and shot toward Xu Yunhe.

Xu Yunhe tried to dodge, but found himself immobilized by an unseen force. As the blood beam arrived, he used all his strength to twist aside slightly.

Blood sprayed as his right arm was severed at the shoulder.

The Black Steward was about to finish him off when a massive black cauldron came crashing down. He frowned and flicked it away; Zhu Yiqun coughed up a mouthful of blood, reeling from the impact.

At that moment, the zither’s music, now transformed wholly into a killing force, swept over the field as well.

“Noisy,” the Black Steward spat, unleashing a crimson beam that shot toward Zhuang Yuechan.

A jade pendant at Zhuang Yuechan’s waist shone brightly, forming a shell-like shield that enveloped her. The blood light was briefly blocked; seizing the moment, Zhuang Yuechan leaped up, tapping the ground with her toes and fluttering backward.

“Think you can escape?” the Black Steward scoffed, raising his right hand as a giant bloody palm materialized, reaching for Zhuang Yuechan.

At the critical moment, a thick water dragon coiled around Zhuang Yuechan and yanked her aside, letting the bloody hand grasp at nothing.

Saved, Zhuang Yuechan looked at the monstrous hand with lingering fear, then turned to Song Changsheng, who had rescued her, her expression growing complicated.

Song Changsheng had no time to notice her gaze. He summoned two magical artifacts to shield himself and shouted, “Everyone, retreat into the ruins! I have a way to hold him off!”

All eyes turned to him in astonishment.

But there was no time to hesitate. Zhu Yiqun made a snap decision: “Do as Changsheng says—I’ll hold the rear!”

With that, Zhu Yiqun pulled out a white jade talisman and crushed it. A brilliant sword light swept toward the Black Steward.

“A Foundation Establishment swordsman’s full-powered strike?” The Black Steward’s pupils narrowed, and for the first time, he grew serious...