Chapter 375: Annihilation, the Might of the Spirit Artifact!

Roar!

After long preparation, having absorbed a vast amount of Qi, the Lihuo Ding surged forward under Lu Qing’s command. With the thunderous cry of a dragon, it descended upon the mountain peak where the Red-Faced Elder and his disciples had taken refuge, radiating an overwhelming, soul-shaking aura.

“Danger!”

Feeling the crushing, mountain-like pressure descending from above, the Red-Faced Elder’s face twisted in alarm. His pupils contracted to pinpricks. But it was too late to warn his disciples. With desperate haste, he poured all his Spirit Soul Power into the array flag in his hand.

As the power surged, the mountain lit up with a dazzling glow. A brilliant Array Light Screen rose into the air, enveloping the entire peak. Yet even after this, the Red-Faced Elder felt no sense of safety.

A golden beam erupted from his body, forming a protective barrier around him.

Though it seemed like a long tale, in truth, everything unfolded in an instant. From Lu Qing’s activation of the Lihuo Ding to the Red-Faced Elder’s desperate defense—mere breaths passed.

Just as the Array Light Screen flared to life, the Lihuo Ding struck it.

The might of a Spirit Artifact was beyond comprehension. Even with Lu Qing’s current cultivation level, he could not unleash even one percent of the Lihuo Ding’s true power. But this long-accumulated, devastating strike was far beyond what Xuan Kong Shan’s hastily erected array could withstand.

The moment the shield flickered into existence, it shattered like an eggshell—crushed instantly by the falling Lihuo Ding.

Then, before the stunned eyes of the Xuan Kong Shan disciples, the massive cauldron slammed into the mountain with a deafening boom.

Crack!

The Lihuo Ding, as large as a small mountain, struck the peak. The earth trembled. The mountain’s solid rock was blasted into a colossal crater. The overwhelming shockwave swept across the area, reducing everything within a hundred zhang—buildings, trees, and stone formations—to flat, smoldering ruins.

Worse still, the spirit flames spewing from the Lihuo Ding spread like wildfire, engulfing the entire mountain in a raging inferno.

“Ah!”

“No! Tai Shang Elder, save me!”

“What kind of fire is this? Why won’t it go out?!”

The disciples’ cries echoed through the burning mountain, filled with terror and despair.

The impact had been too sudden. Most of the disciples had not even managed to flee. Those slower in movement were instantly pulverized by the sheer force of the impact—internal organs crushed, bodies shattered into dust.

Even those who escaped the initial blast didn’t survive. The spirit flames rained down from the sky like a storm of fire.

The flames were no ordinary fire—they burned not only flesh, but spirit and soul. A mere touch was enough to ignite the victim. Without a special combat technique or a protective treasure artifact, the flames could not be extinguished until the target was completely reduced to ash.

The strongest among the disciples were only at the Xian Tian Jing Lian Qi realm. How could they resist the fury of a Spirit Artifact’s fire?

Whether they shielded themselves with Qi, rolled on the ground, or screamed for mercy—nothing worked. The flames clung to them like a curse.

For a moment, the mountain became a hellish battlefield of screaming, writhing figures, consumed by fire.

Above, Lu Qing remained expressionless, watching the scene unfold. From the moment the Xuan Kong Shan monks had tried to forcibly convert his Master at Sheng Shan, to their later attempts to assassinate him through Wu Jian Lou assassins—there could be no truce. Only one of them could survive.

They were enemies. And enemies deserved no mercy.

With cold detachment, he watched the disciples burn. Then, with a flick of his hand, the massive, flaming cauldron buried in the crater slowly rose from the pit. Shrinking as it ascended, it drifted toward him until it was the size of a thumbnail, landing gently in his palm.

“Little Master,” a faint, weary voice echoed in Lu Qing’s mind. “I can no longer assist you. Be careful.”

“Don’t worry, Elder,” Lu Qing replied solemnly, bowing his head slightly as he stowed the Lihuo Ding. “Rest now.”

He could feel her exhaustion. That was the true value of a Spirit Artifact—the spirit within could act independently, unleashing devastating power even without direct control.

In truth, with Lu Qing’s current cultivation level, it would have been impossible to summon such power without Yan’s presence. The sheer volume of Spirit Force required would have drained him instantly.

But the recent strike had consumed all the stored spiritual resonance within the Lihuo Ding. It would take time—perhaps days or even weeks—for it to recover.

“Hmm?”

Just as he finished storing the artifact, Lu Qing’s expression shifted. His gaze fell downward.

And there, slowly emerging from the crater left by the Lihuo Ding, was a figure—Red-Faced Elder.

But he was no longer the composed, confident monk he had been. His robes were in tatters, half of his body reduced to charred bone, the flesh stripped away. His internal organs pulsed faintly beneath the exposed skeleton—horrible to behold.

Yet, miraculously, a faint golden light still protected his core organs. Without it, he would have been dead.

But the Red-Faced Elder didn’t care about his wounds. He didn’t even notice the fading cries of his disciples. His entire being was consumed by terror, locked onto Lu Qing above.

That attack—unimaginable in power—had nearly killed him. Only by using the brief moment the Array Light Screen blocked the strike, and by instantly shifting his position, had he avoided being crushed beneath the Lihuo Ding.

Had he stayed in place, he would have been pulverized—no trace left.

“Lihuo Ding… The Spirit Artifact of the ancient Lihuo Sect? It’s in your hands… Are you a descendant of the Lihuo Sect?”

The Red-Faced Elder’s voice was hoarse, trembling with disbelief.

Seeing the form and power of the giant cauldron, he finally recalled fragments from the temple’s ancient texts.

“Old monk,” Lu Qing sneered, observing the golden light shielding the Red-Faced Elder’s vitals. “I didn’t expect you to survive my strike. Impressive.”

He realized the man must possess a priceless treasure. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have endured the shockwave of the Lihuo Ding’s impact.

Lu Qing inwardly marveled. No wonder he was a fully realized Zhu Ji Qi cultivator. His survival techniques were truly formidable.

“Lihuo Ding… It really is Lihuo Ding!”

The Red-Faced Elder’s voice cracked with shock. According to the temple’s ancient records, the Lihuo Sect had been wiped out before the last cultivation era even ended. Their Spirit Artifact—Lihuo Ding—had vanished without a trace.

Now, after tens of thousands of years, the artifact had reappeared. And in the hands of a mysterious, powerful cultivator.

Could it be… that the Lihuo Sect’s destruction was a lie? That like the Four Secret Places, they had hidden in a secret realm all this time, surviving the long era of Qi depletion… and now, they were rising again?

But why would they target Xuan Kong Shan? In the Ancient Cultivation Era, the two sects had no great enmity.

Confusion and dread swirled in his mind.

Then—instinct screamed danger.

Without hesitation, the Red-Faced Elder lunged sideways, barely escaping.

Just as he moved, a razor-sharp sword Qi sliced past his body, cleaving the ground where he had stood, carving a deep gash.

Before he could recover, a storm of sword Qi descended from above—crisscrossing, descending like a deadly rain.

“How… How can he still have such abundant Spirit Force?!”

The Red-Faced Elder’s face drained of color. He had already exhausted himself defending against the Lihuo Ding’s impact. Now, wounded, his protective treasure damaged, and his Spirit Force nearly gone, he had no strength left to resist Lu Qing’s relentless assault.

And worse—how could Lu Qing, after using such a Spirit Artifact, still possess the strength to unleash this attack? It defied all logic.

Just as Lu Qing’s sword Qi was about to tear the Red-Faced Elder apart—

A glowing light shot from the distance, moving faster than thought. It arrived before Lu Qing’s attack could land, forming a translucent golden bell that enveloped the Red-Faced Elder.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Lu Qing’s sword Qi struck the bell, shaking it violently—but it did not break. The golden barrier held firm, repelling every strike.

“Jin Zhong Elder!”

The Red-Faced Elder’s face lit up with desperate relief.

“Hmph?”

Lu Qing sensed the incoming presence. He turned his gaze toward the distant sky.

He felt it—several powerful auras racing toward them from deep within the mountain range.

He knew. Xuan Kong Shan reinforcements had arrived.

Without hesitation, the golden small boat beneath his feet flared with light. Lu Qing transformed into a streak of radiant energy, fleeing the battlefield.

Less than ten breaths later, several figures appeared in the sky—elderly monks in gray robes, identical to the Red-Faced Elder.

“Think you can escape?!”

The monks stared in fury at the wreckage below, then at Lu Qing’s retreating form, preparing to give chase.

“Jin Zhong Elder, wait! Don’t pursue him!”

The Red-Faced Elder, ignoring his own agony, roared with urgency, his voice cracking. The effort was so great that his treasure-protected core ruptured—blood sprayed from his mouth.

Seeing his distress, the monks hesitated, then stopped and landed beside him.

“Chi Xin Elder, what’s wrong? Why stop us from hunting this demon?”

“This demon is no ordinary foe. He wields a Spirit Artifact. If we chase him blindly, we risk disaster!” the Red-Faced Elder insisted.

“A Spirit Artifact?! Impossible!”

The monks gasped in shock.

“Truth! Look at the flames around us—those are the fire of a Spirit Artifact. They burn everything. No living being below Zhu Ji level can resist. They’re consumed alive!”

The monks looked at the raging fire, their expressions darkening. They knew the truth—the fire was unlike anything they’d seen.

One elder grimaced. “These flames… What happened to the disciples?”

In their spiritual senses, only the Red-Faced Elder remained. The others—gone. All dead.

The Red-Faced Elder sighed. “They’re all dead. The fire consumed them. He attacked too suddenly. The disciples didn’t even have time to scatter.”

In mere moments, those who had touched the spirit fire had burned to death.

“…All of them?”

The monks’ eyes widened in horror. Their entire elite force—nearly half the temple’s disciples—gone in an instant?

“This is unforgivable!”

One elder gritted his teeth, swearing an oath. “We will not live if we don’t avenge them!”

“Chi Xin Elder,” another asked, “did you fight him? Do you know who he is? Why would he slaughter our disciples so brutally?”

“I don’t know his identity,” the Red-Faced Elder said, “but I know his weapon. It is the Lihuo Ding—the long-lost Spirit Artifact of the ancient Lihuo Sect.”

As the Red-Faced Elder spoke, the truth unfolded in the air.

Meanwhile, high above the Lingshan Mountains, hidden within a drifting cloud, a faint presence lingered.

“That mysterious masked figure… Who is he? How could he command a Spirit Artifact?”

Yang Ming Dao Ren stared at the burning ruins below, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Earlier, following the trail of golden light, he had arrived at the edge of the Lingshan Mountains.

What he saw left him stunned.

There, hovering above the sky, a mysterious masked figure—riding a giant cauldron—had descended with overwhelming might, smashing into the tallest peak. The disciples of Xuan Kong Shan, like insects before a storm, were obliterated without resistance. Even the sacred mountain itself—once a symbol of the sect—was shattered and burning.

The power radiating from the cauldron was undeniable. As a cultivator from a Secret Place, Yang Ming Dao Ren knew immediately: it was a true Spirit Artifact.

Xuan Kong Shan had drawn the wrath of a terrifying master of a Spirit Artifact!

The realization sent shockwaves through him—fear, yes, but also a strange thrill.

Fear, because a Spirit Artifact had reappeared.

Thrill, because his greatest rival now faced a force far more dangerous than any he’d imagined.

And above all—curiosity.

A Spirit Artifact… even Qing Yang Guan had only one, sealed away to contain the Secret Realm. It could not be brought out.

Who was this masked figure? What lineage could possibly command such a power?

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end