Chapter Twenty-Nine: Han Qiaoman in Peril

This disciple was somewhat tempted; if things were truly as Long Feiyu said, wouldn't he be seizing the advantage? Yet, if the array were to drain his spiritual power, he would die a miserable death. He hesitated.

Long Feiyu noticed his hesitation and said, "If you don't want to, that's fine. I'll do it myself."

"No, I'll do it." The disciple no longer hesitated—how could one expect to gain without risking? Every step of cultivation is a dance on the blade's edge; if one fears death, it's better to abandon the pursuit of fortune and return home to farm. With these words, he activated his spiritual power and attacked the teleportation array.

He felt his spiritual energy being swallowed voraciously, and barely had time to let out a scream before he was sucked dry, reduced to a shriveled corpse.

The crowd was terrified.

Seeing the array's glow brighten, Long Feiyu was overjoyed—there was a reaction. Yet, judging by the light, the spiritual power was still insufficient. He glanced around, and the disciples all stepped back.

Han Qiaoman was alarmed and, with the disciples of the Gate of Life and Death, attempted to slip away; their numbers were half that of the opposing side, and if a conflict broke out, there was no chance of victory.

As expected, Long Feiyu, seeing there were no more disciples from his own sect to sacrifice, turned his gaze to the Gate of Life and Death. "If we are to enter the Immortal's estate, we must activate the teleportation array. People die for wealth, birds for food—my apologies." With that, he signaled his sect's disciples to surround the others.

Better to kill the enemy than sacrifice his own.

Han Qiaoman's face changed. "Brother Feiyu, isn't it a bit early to tear off the mask? If there's nothing on the other side of the teleportation array, we'll have gained nothing. This will only provoke war between our sects."

"It's not too early. As long as none of you leave, how will Han Yuan Zheng know you died by our hands? You merely fell into a deadly array—it has nothing to do with us. Brothers, am I not right?" Long Feiyu smiled.

"The young master speaks true," the disciples of the Immortal Companion Sect replied with sinister grins.

Seeing their resolve, Han Qiaoman said no more. She shouted, "Break through!" and charged outward.

"Don't let any escape! Destroy their core and release their spiritual power!" Long Feiyu commanded.

"Kill!" Both sides clashed in a fierce melee.

None dared use spells—for that would mean quicker death. Even those at the peak of Foundation Establishment had no advantage; everyone fought with brute strength alone.

Now, the advantage of numbers became clear—two against one, the Gate of Life and Death disciples retreated step by step, and soon several were slain, their cores destroyed. The teleportation array blazed with light—obviously ready for another transfer.

"Run!" Han Qiaoman was beside herself with rage. The Immortal estate was nowhere in sight, and to perish here would be a wasted death.

Unfortunately, the Immortal Companion Sect disciples gave them no such chance, intent on exterminating them and keeping the secret.

This expedition included many at the peak of Foundation Establishment, just a step from the Golden Core, yet none had expected to fall into such a rabble-like brawl.

Soon, more disciples were killed. The Gate of Life and Death had entered with fifteen; excluding Zhou Qi, Han Qiaoman now had only three companions left, all wounded, unable to break through as the enemy clung tightly. The Immortal Companion Sect had eighteen disciples remaining, aside from those sacrificed, the rest forced to fight desperately against the Gate of Life and Death.

Eighteen against four—the outcome was clear. Long Feiyu pointed at Han Qiaoman and said to his disciples, "Leave Han Qiaoman alive. Kill the others."

He wanted Han Qiaoman alive to see if she could be useful in the hunt for Zhou Qi. Though Zhou Qi's cultivation was low, he was slippery, always sensing danger early. It was said Zhou Qi was loyal to his sect; with Han Qiaoman captured, would he keep running or try to save her?

The disciples rushed forward, hacking the remaining Gate of Life and Death members into pulp, and Han Qiaoman was captured. Long Feiyu smiled at her. "Sorry, senior sister."

"If you have the guts, kill me now. My father will avenge me," Han Qiaoman said, pale but unyielding.

"Don't worry, you'll join them soon. Truly, you don't know how to cherish beauty—how can you press a sword to your senior sister's neck?" Long Feiyu stepped forward and, with several swift strikes, crippled Han Qiaoman's hands and feet. She screamed in agony—her limbs had been destroyed.

Ten minutes earlier, outside the estate, Han Yuan Zheng and Long Cheng Ye were watching as the soul lamps of their disciples extinguished one by one, their faces darkening. Such a high mortality rate?

Soon, the Gate of Life and Death saw only Zhou Qi's and Han Qiaoman's soul lamps remaining, with Han Qiaoman's lamp dim and flickering—clearly gravely injured. "Master Long, my sect has lost thirteen disciples. I suspect your Immortal Companion Sect is to blame," Han Yuan Zheng said, his tone cold as he glared at Long Cheng Ye.

"Please remain calm, Master Han. The situation is unclear. My sect has lost twelve disciples as well. Perhaps they stumbled into a deadly array," Long Cheng Ye replied. The loss of twelve disciples had shocked him, but seeing the Gate of Life and Death fare even worse, he was elated. Eighteen to two—how can you compete with us?

Han Yuan Zheng couldn't be certain; it was too soon to act. Best to wait and see.

Suddenly, a shadow flashed past the gathering and vanished into the estate.

Who was it? Even the assembled Nascent Soul cultivators hadn't caught a glimpse.

After crippling Han Qiaoman, Long Feiyu was finally at ease, planning to throw her into the teleportation array. The group was about to move toward it.

"So many grown men bullying a weak woman—are you even human?" A voice rang out suddenly.

"Who?" Long Feiyu was startled, looking toward the source.

A young man in a black robe strode over, tall and slender, his long black hair draped carelessly over his shoulders. His handsome face bore a mocking smile, ignoring the Immortal Companion Sect disciples as if they were nothing.

"Fellow cultivator, who are you? Where have you come from?" Long Feiyu asked, uncertain of the stranger's identity.

"You petty scoundrels aren't worthy to know my name," the man replied with disdain.

Even a clay figure has a temper—let alone so many on his side. Long Feiyu decided to act without hesitation. "Capture him," he ordered.

Several disciples rushed forward, wielding their magic tools. The man stood unmoving; blades and swords struck him as if hitting steel, not even tearing his robe. With a slight shake of his body, the disciples were sent flying like cannonballs.

Such formidable physical strength! Long Feiyu felt a chill, but the man didn't bother killing them, simply shaking them off and continuing toward the teleportation array.

"Fellow cultivator, save me," Han Qiaoman called out weakly, seeing his strength and hoping for rescue.

The man paused, turned to look at Han Qiaoman—her limbs crippled, lying on her side, face bloodless, eyes filled with hope.

He thought for a moment. "Very well." With that, he picked up the collapsed Han Qiaoman and stepped onto the teleportation array.

Long Feiyu and his disciples watched in stupefied silence as he rescued Han Qiaoman, not daring to make a move.

Only when the pair had vanished from the array did Long Feiyu snap out of it and rush forward.