https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-116-The-Terror-of-the-Ten-Thousand-Spirit-Banner/13505089/
Chapter 115: Still Daring to Strike Back
Chapter 115: Still Daring to Strike Back
After sending his innate talent and hard-earned insights off to research upgrading the Yanmo Hall, Lv Yang cast one last lingering glance at the battlefield.
“What a shame—I won’t get another chance at a victory like this anytime soon.”
After all, one enemy had escaped. Once that person reported back, the Buddhist cultivators would likely stop recklessly gathering forces to confront him.
“Greetings, Senior Brother Tianhe!”
Just as Lv Yang retracted the Ten-Thousand Spirit Banner, Qin Tianhe hurried over, his usual obsequious self as he kowtowed respectfully without hesitation.
Lv Yang could only sigh and smile wryly.
Unlike their encounter at the Equilibrium Sea, he wasn’t truly a Foundation Building Realm practitioner this time. Accepting such reverence now would only cause trouble if his identity was exposed later.
He quickly clarified, “You’re mistaken, Senior Brother.”
“I am Lv Yang, a newly appointed True Transmission Disciple—not a Foundation Building Realm practitioner.”
“Lv Yang?”
Qin Tianhe froze, startled. He’d discussed this name with his friend Xu Xin before. Wasn’t this the rookie who’d just become a True Transmission Disciple?
The gears in his Holy Sect disciple’s mind began spinning furiously.
First, he dismissed the possibility that Lv Yang wasn’t a Foundation Building Realm practitioner. After all, with strength like this—slaughtering Refining Qi cultivators like weeds—who would believe such a claim?
I get it now!
This “new True Transmission Disciple” must be a Foundation Building Realm practitioner secretly hiding their identity for the Dao Contention War! This must be one of our Holy Sect’s True Men reincarnated, wearing a false face to dominate the competition and ensure our sect’s victory. How cunning! Truly devious—worthy of our Holy Sect indeed!
Watching Qin Tianhe’s shifting expressions, Lv Yang frowned. “What are you thinking about?”
Snapping back to reality, Qin Tianhe shook his head vehemently. “Nothing! Nothing at all! Your brilliance humbles me, Senior Brother!”
Lv Yang waved him off again. “I told you—I’m not a True Man.”
Qin Tianhe nodded eagerly. “Right, right! Not a True Man! Our Holy Sect wouldn’t send a True Man here anyway. I understand completely!”
You idiot—what exactly did you understand?
Shaking his head, Lv Yang opened his mouth to speak again but suddenly furrowed his brows. His Divine Consciousness tingled—a distant rumble echoed through the heavens, like thunder rolling across a battlefield of ten thousand drums. Something had crossed a threshold and was rapidly approaching.
At the horizon’s edge, golden light surged into the sky.
In a single bound, that light traversed a thousand miles, illuminating Lv Yang’s face before splitting apart to reveal multiple Chongguang figures.
From the radiance emerged a procession of solemn Buddhist cultivators—some wielding meditation staffs, others draped in saffron robes, their necks adorned with prayer beads, or holding golden alms bowls. Their forms shifted—some with three heads and six arms, others with third eyes blazing on their foreheads—as they arrayed themselves in the air.
Then, in unison, over a hundred Buddhist cultivators chanted:
“Amitabha!”
Each word thundered like a celestial explosion, rolling waves of sonic force crashing toward the two men.
“Hmph!”
Qin Tianhe paled. The Buddhist sect’s Thunderous Chant grew stronger with numbers—the combined force of so many cultivators was seriously affecting him.
But in the next instant, Lv Yang stepped forward. His Divine Consciousness, refined through the Heavenly Silkworm Secret, remained utterly unshaken by the roaring chant. With a single stride, his consciousness swept outward, nullifying the sonic waves within three feet of his body as though they’d never existed.
In an instant, he stood alone against a hundred, utterly composed.
Seeing this, Guanghui—the leader of the Buddhist group—felt unease stirring.
Weren’t we told there were dozens of them?
“Guangming?”
Guanghui turned to see Guangming sheepishly retreating instead of advancing. The truth dawned on him instantly.
Another false report?
“Worthless!” Guanghui hissed under his breath. Yet despite Guangming’s blunder, fortune had favored them.
If this opponent truly defeated Guangming and his dozen followers alone, then bringing the full Dragon Assembly of 108 cultivators had been wise. Now, victory was assured.
Smiling coldly, Guanghui called out: “Esteemed Sir, shall we strike a bargain?”
“A bargain?”
“Indeed.” Guanghui pointed at Qin Tianhe. “Surrender the devil behind you, and you may leave freely.”
Nonsense, of course.
But Guanghui reasoned that while Qin Tianhe paled in comparison to Lv Yang, his Status Rank still made him a threat. Together, they might have a sliver of hope. Yet devils rarely stood united—facing pressure, they’d likely betray each other. This was a calculated gamble.
Lv Yang chuckled.
Frankly, if cornered, he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice an ally—survival first, after all. But this wasn’t desperation yet.
“You’re still far from enough,” he said, flicking his sleeve. “Since you’ve come all this way, why not stay? I could use someone like you.”
Guanghui’s brow furrowed. “You alone would dare fight us all?”
“Who’s the trapped beast here? That remains to be seen.”
As his words faded, Guanghui’s pupils constricted. He instinctively glanced around—when had the clear sky turned to swirling black mist?
Clang! Clang!
Armor clattered as countless spectral warriors emerged from the fog, their hollow gazes fixed on the Buddhist cultivators. Some even recognized fallen comrades among the dead.
“Brother Yuanjue?”
“Yuanhao is here too!”
“What is this!?”
The earth trembled as thousands of Soulbound Wraiths marched in unison, their footsteps shaking heaven and earth.
Though Guanghui’s Dragon Assembly was elite—108 cultivators, all Mid-Rank Refining Qi or above—they now faced over ten thousand Soulbound Wraiths! From early-stage to perfection-stage Refining Qi, they formed a miniature sect of death itself.
What the hell is this!?!
“W-wait, Esteemed Sir—”
Guanghui’s plea drowned in the deafening war cries. The wraiths’ malevolent aura swallowed the Buddhist light whole.
Beside Lv Yang, Yanluo Patriarch’s shadow materialized once more, his tone exasperated.
“Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me?”
“Apologies, Patriarch.” Lv Yang shook his head. “But even I didn’t expect… these bald bastards to not only survive my slaughter but dare strike back at me.”
(End of Chapter)
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