Chapter 427 - The Blitz (2/2)
It was the primary concern of the leaders, the single most influential element in the entire crusade to defeat Red Sleeve and destroy the Corpse Refinery Sect. Zi Mo nodded and asked, “What about the others?” Perfected Immortal Feng Lan revealed a hard and grim look and merely uttered, “You’d best come with me.”
The group of the other senior leaders parted and the Perfected Immortal led Xiao Chen and his companions through them, walking to the far side of the cliff. They were halfway there when twelve figures ran towards them and one of them screamed, “My Lord!”
It was Qingluan and the sight of his trusted subordinate filled Xiao Chen with comfort. He nodded approvingly, “You’ve come. Good.”
“Koo-chee Koo-chee!” Out of nowhere something small and tiny leaped on to him, squirreling up his shoulders and licked affectionately at his face while squawking gently. Xiao Chen giggled, “It’s been a long time, Brother Koo-chee.”
“Wuu… Koo-chee!”
Xiao Chen was pleased to have been reunited with his friends and the people he trusted the most, feeling touched by them waiting here to meet him. He carried Koo-chee off his shoulders and placed him in Ziyun’er’s arms. “I still have business to discuss with the seniors,” he said to them, “Please leave us.”
“Understood, My Lord!”
By now, the girls of the Hidden Fragrance Wafting Under the Moon were all as powerful as any mage of the Nascent Soul Realm. Xiao Chen strolled off then he stopped. Turning back, he asked, “Yes, I’d almost forgotten. What about the Heartless Palace? Any word?”
“Rest assured, all is fine and well with the Heartless Palace, My Lord.”
“Right.” Xiao Chen followed after Zi Mo and the other through the mouth of a cave yawning at the bottom of the cliff. Watching him leave, Koo-chee blinked his eyes wide, staring at his friend who had seemed for a brief moment like a stranger. He moaned with a tinge of sorrow and Ziyun’er caressed him gently, “It’s fine. My Lord is busy now…”
“Wuu! Koo-chee…”
Xiao Chen stepped into the firelight blazing inside the cave and saw more than a dozen men inside. The men stirred and got up at once when they see Zi Mo and the newcomers coming and Xiao Chen could see the grim and stony looks of the men through the pale light. These were all highly-respected leaders of mage schools and sects and among them included Perfected Immortal Qing Chen who had come at once when was bade to, leaving his affairs to Yuheng Zi.
With a wave of his hand, Perfected Immortal Feng Lan cast a barrier at the entrance of the cave to prevent any prying ears. Xiao Chen remained inside, the youngest among everyone inside and all eyes were trained upon him.
Perfected Immortal Qing Chen walked up to him and said gravely, “Xiao Chen, the war council has convened. The offensive on the Corpse Refinery Sect begins tonight. We have also decided to channel a portion of our Mystic Powers into you, just like before. This should help you to control the Flames of the Southern Vermillion Bird. What do you think of this?”
Xiao Chen could feel every pair of eyes burrowing into him. It was a dangerous gambit. More so, when not everyone here trusted him.
“I’ll do it!” Xiao Chen pronounced at once, breathing hard. There was no need for any more doubts or thoughts. Saving Muxue mattered most.
The early hours of dawn came two hours later and the moon was waning in the distant night sky. Xiao Chen, with the Mystic powers fused into him by the dozens of senior leaders of the Orthodox Path, could feel the power of the Apotheosis Realm coursing through his veins. Outside the cave, the army of mages was readying themselves for the attack. It would be as ugly as the invasion before, with many wondering if this would be the final morning for them.
They crept up the cliffs with the cold mountainous breeze howling dangerously by their ears. Qingluan and her girls kept a close distance around Xiao Chen to keep him safe as they moved with the invaders who were following the lead of their elders and senior leaders, moving stealthily under the cloak of the night towards the Summit of Mystics…
Up upon the Summit, the Corpse Refinery Sect was also busy in preparations for battle. The Sect spared no expense, fielding every Corpse Puppet and every acolyte and disciple they have. Every entrance and every gate was under close watch and no leaf of grass moved without being noticed.
Inside the citadel of the Ridge of the Fallen Drake, Elders Wu Fa and Wu Tian were cantering hurriedly in circles, looking positively in distress. The Great Immortal from Hell was also present, looking similarly glum and taciturn. This would be a gritting battle, they knew. The one that would decide the very existence of the Corpse Refinery Sect.
“What of the Rock? How are the defenses there?” Wu Tian spoke.
“I have left the defenses there to Elder Long,” the Great Immortal replied with a worried and uncertain frown on his face, “We must hold on. At least until noon tomorrow. When the shifts of Yin and Yang begin, the Divine Corpse would have finished consuming the Mystic Yin Body by then.”
“Ahhh…” Wu Fa breathed long and deep, “And we’d finally be free of our bondage to that accursed place. What happens next to the Corpse Refinery Sect shall be of no longer concern to us.”
The three men sighed and none said a word. Then footsteps echoed off the walls of the citadel and an acolyte came rushing in, with his voice screaming and trailing in a very long “Report!” He stopped before the Elders and yelped, “We are under attack! It’s a two-pronged attack on the South-west!”
“Calm down!” the Great Immortal thrust an arm and placed a hand on the shoulder of the young man, holding him still, “We must hold the fort!” He had barely finished, when another acolyte rushed in with another report, “The Ridge of Dire Winds has fallen!”
“REPORT! The Cliffs of the Weeping Ghost is under attack!”
In just minutes, seven to eight battle reports came scurrying in, one after another with each grimmer than the rest. Beads of sweat drenched the backs of the three elders. The blitz carried out by the invaders were so quick and decisive; the mages of the Orthodox Path have come prepared. “Hold this place,” the Great Immortal spoke to his two colleagues, “Let me face them in battle!” He vanished, turning into a bolt of light that sped out through the doors like a comet.
Fire and blood were all that could be seen from the top when the Great Immortal finally arrived as the battle waged below where he stood with both sides incurring losses of their own. He dove into the fray, hoping to help drive back the invaders then something caught his eyes. Due South, a huge flash of flames illuminated the blue-black morning sky. A wave of orange and red screamed into the sky like dragons in a dance. From the sky, bursts of magical flames gushed forth and canopied around any Corpse Puppets in the vicinity, leaving only charred flesh and blackened soot when the fires settled.
A man was hovering in mid-air, wielding a sword blazing with three-colored flames. Wherever he pointed his weapon, an inferno would erupt to destroy and incinerate everything in its range. The Great Immortal’s eyes widened with shock and disbelief as if the Apocalypse was upon him as he uttered, “T-the… the Flames of the Southern Vermilion Bird!”