https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-118-The-Holy-Sect-Truly-Produces-Talent/13505979/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-120-The-Fierce-True-Transmissions/13505981/
Chapter 119: Follow Me, Strike Back
Chapter 119: Follow Me, Strike Back
Inside the Holy Sect disciples’ gathering grounds.
After exchanging greetings with the gathered True Transmission disciples, Lv Yang wasted no time sharing the intelligence he’d obtained from Guangming.
Zhong Ming’s expression darkened. “They’ve surrounded us already?”
Xu Xin, however, looked unsurprised, his face twisting into a grim smirk. “I knew the Pure Land swine and Dao Court curs would conspire again.”
Zhong Ming frowned. “But how could Father not foresee this?”
“Perhaps even the elders overlooked something so obvious. After all, if a mere junior like you could see it coming, maybe it wasn’t so hidden after all.”
“You—!”
Xu Xin and Zhong Ming glared at each other, their feud embodying the Holy Sect’s two rival factions—neither willing to acknowledge the other’s worth.
“The truth is simple,” Lv Yang interjected. “Chongguang Zhenren simply doesn’t care. From the start, this Dao Contention War was never about our survival.” He turned to Xu Xin. “The True Monarch’s Fruit-Rank Treasure—is it still in the elder’s possession?”
“It is.”
Lv Yang nodded, then added gravely, “But let me clarify—one thing many assume is incorrect. I haven’t reached Foundation Building Realm. Close, but not quite.”
Even with Su Nu’s aid, he still fell short of a true Foundation Builder’s might. This land lacked Skull Mountain’s geomantic blessings, leaving Su Nu weakened without the terrain’s power. Such subtle gaps often meant catastrophic differences.
A true Foundation Builder wouldn’t waste words—they’d simply locate the enemy, charge forward, and crush any formation or numbers arrayed against them. But Lv Yang wasn’t that unstoppable.
If the Dao Court and Pure Land threw their full weight into a counterattack—if a thousand Refining Qi cultivators trapped him in a formation—the battle’s odds would plummet.
From ten to nine and a half, to be precise.
Enough risk that Lv Yang wouldn’t gamble. Which meant he needed the Holy Sect disciples to act.
“I need you to break their lines,” he declared bluntly. “Draw their attention while I strike from the shadows.”
The Dao Contention War had two victory conditions: destroy the enemy’s Fruit-Rank Treasure, typically held by their strongest warrior, or kill the Chosen One among Jie Tian’s natives and merge their heavenly mandate into one’s own Fruit-Rank Treasure—achieving victory without battle.
Lv Yang’s plan was simple. The Holy Sect disciples would serve as decoys while he hunted the enemy’s leader, destroying their treasure and breaking through. After regrouping, he’d repeat the process against the remaining foe.
He expected resistance convincing them to act as bait. Instead, the True Transmission disciples nodded in unison.
“Brilliant strategy,” one remarked. “This maximizes our chances.”
“Far better than charging in blindly ourselves.”
“Agreed—let’s proceed.”
Lv Yang realized then the Holy Sect’s grim reality. They’d long accepted their role as pawns. As long as the endgame favored them, they’d play their part without complaint. It was their survival doctrine—from Refining Qi disciples to elite talents, they climbed by serving as tools, until one day becoming masters themselves.
They quickly decided their target: Pure Land. The Eightfold Bodhisattva Disciples’ Dragon Assembly had already been annihilated by Lv Yang, making them the weaker prey.
Meanwhile, in Pure Land’s encampment…
“You dare say Guanghui is dead?!” Guanghai’s voice thundered, his prayer beads creaking from the pressure of his grip. “My dearest friend! My most trusted junior brother!”
He glared at Guangming. “I handpicked each Dragon Assembly member—each a prodigy of Subduing Dragon Temple. How did they all fall, yet you survive?”
Guangming stood tall, unflinching. “I fled.”
Silence fell. Even Guanghai, known for his iron temper, stared in shock. Such brazen cowardice would earn instant execution in any sect.
“You abandoned your brethren?” Guanghai asked coldly.
Guangming stepped forward. “I didn’t run for myself—for us.”
“For… us?”
“Precisely. The one who killed Guanghui and the Dragon Assembly wields the Nine Metamorphosis Dragon Art—our Master’s final legacy!”
“.What?!” Guanghai shot to his feet, shock giving way to fiery exhilaration. As Subduing Dragon Arhat’s favored disciple, he knew the Nine Metamorphosis Dragon Art well—a cultivation technique from the Arhat’s past life as a Coiling Dragon Cultivator, destined to attract a Dharma Guardian Vajra to Subduing Dragon Temple.
“If I capture this cultivator…” Guanghai’s eyes blazed. Securing a Vajra would cement his status as the temple’s second-in-command. And if the Arhat ever… departed? The path to becoming a Holy Monk himself would open.
“Clever boy,” he finally praised Guangming. “You’ve done well.”
Guangming exhaled in relief, wiping sweat from his brow.
Lv Yang, meanwhile, studied the barrier he’d placed over the Spirit Sea, calculating timelines.
“He’s told his brother by now,” he mused. “Time to strike—this time, they’ll fight to the death.”
He turned to his battered forces—five surviving True Transmission disciples, seven Refining Qi Perfection experts, and barely eighty wounded cultivators.
“Remember how it felt being hunted?” he asked.
No grand speeches, no false heroics. They knew their role.
“Follow me, strike back.”
(End of Chapter)
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