Chapter 679: Who Will Die First?

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“It’s over… We’re done for.” Despair settled among the people, many of whom sank to the ground, gripped by an engulfing fear.

The border guards from the three sects were engulfed in the same hopelessness, murmuring, “The masters of the three sects must be dead by now…”

“With the masters gone, we will die too…”

A pervasive sense of dread hung heavy in every heart, a collective resignation to the fate they saw materializing before them in the form of the imposing figure in the sky.

Suddenly, a stern voice cut through the doom, “What are you panicking for?!” An elderly figure appeared amidst them, stepping on a massive symbol that read ‘Yu’.

“We aren’t defeated until the moment we die,” the voice rang out firmly, only to soften towards the end, “…at least this buys time for the civilians to evacuate.”

A figure adorned in a purple and gold Daoist robe moved against the tide of fleeing people, advancing toward the border. “Disciples of the True Path Sect, lead the civilians to Qingzhou. Survival is still possible there… Others, if you wish to flee, I won’t hold you back.” Confidence radiated from the old man.

“Heavenly Master!” Many in the crowd, particularly the True Path Sect disciples, bowed in reverence. Even amidst the chaos, the disciples at the forefront remained rooted, their resolve unshaken.

Witnessing this, some from other sects who had intended to flee felt a surge of embarrassment. A handful continued to flee, heads bowed, while others, galvanized by the display of courage, halted firmly in their tracks.

“We’ve been trained in the True Path Sect’s formation techniques over the years, Heavenly Master,” a few of the sect leaders chimed in, with a hint of humor amidst the grim situation.

With a gracious nod and a gesture of thanks, the Daoist Master replied, “Thank you.”

At the border, three figures communicated in hushed tones before commanding in unison, “Activate the formation!”

Boom!

The sky above erupted with the sound of tens of thousands of thunderclaps resonating in harmony. Thunder reverberated in the heavens as a spectacular display of seven hues cascaded downwards.

From the earth surged a spiritual light, pooling together in the sky, morphing into an image of a golden Buddha, a white lotus, and a gentle breeze that altered the very essence of the surroundings.

At the helm were the True Path Sect’s master, Bodhi from the Buddhist Sect, and the principals of the Confucian Sect’s four courtyards. These notable figures, second in command in their respective sects, took up the mantle of leadership, ready to fight tooth and nail to secure a sliver of hope for the common people.

Boom!

Without warning, the sky bore witness to a horrifying sight: a gigantic blood-red tiger descending fiercely upon them. Its monstrous form, akin to a mountain, spanned dozens of miles, blanketing the area in an ominous shadow that seemed to consume the sun itself. It felt as if the world was on the brink of a cataclysmic end.

The Golden Buddha swung his arm upward, orchestrating a dramatic shift in the surroundings. With the assistance of the gentle breeze, the Buddhist seal transformed, altering its hue and spreading out like a blossoming lotus, dispersing into thousands of fragments in the air.

Yet, this transformation seemed meager, almost insignificant compared to the overpowering force of the blood tiger.

The earth trembled, giving the impression of an enormous dragon stirring beneath its surface. Blood began to billow out, forming a sinister red mist that enveloped the onlookers.

A horrific transformation took place, as their eyes turned a blood-red hue and madness took over. Chaos ensued, with some people spontaneously bursting into gruesome pieces, while others, having lost all sanity, turned violently against those nearby.

The scene on the ground mirrored an apocalyptic event, the catastrophic aftermath of a singular, yet devastating attack. Hundreds among the sect disciples holding the array perished instantly.

Despite the losses, fresh recruits promptly took the places of the fallen, steadfastly maintaining the defense line, allowing no breach.

Bai Wuya observed the scene, his face betraying no emotion but cold indifference. “Impressive. If this step wasn’t taken, the three regions could indeed pose a threat to our six royal clans. But times have changed.”

Despite being only halfway to his intended position, he could perceive vistas he had never encountered before. He recognized that the fortune of the three states was interconnected, propelled by an unseen force that showered blessings upon the warriors of the three sects like snowflakes.

He contemplated, “This explains the many defeats we faced while attempting to invade the three realms. However, today marks the end of it all.”

But in a fleeting moment, his demeanor changed dramatically. Raising his head, he noticed a sudden shift in the fortune emanating from the three regions. A turbulent wind emerged from the center, charging fiercely towards him.

Defiant and determined, the old Confucian scholar emerged, propelled by the furious wind, dispersing the oppressive blood mist surrounding him. The violent frenzy that had gripped the populace abated, returning a semblance of normality to the scene.

Before the imminent confrontation could escalate, the scholar cast his gaze towards the West Cauldron State, now engulfed in a blood-red sea. Bizarre occurrences were unfolding there, signaling the approach of a formidable force moving at an alarming pace.

Facing the impending peril, the old scholar braced himself, declaring, “Looks like I have to risk my life.”

The situation grew increasingly tense, with the three kings gearing up for a fierce confrontation, leaving everyone in suspense about the allegiance of the Sacred Heart Sect Master.

The pressing question remained: Who would die first in this high-stakes battle?

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