Winds Stir Beyond the Seas; The Scheming Web

Chapter 410: Winds Stir Beyond the Seas; The Scheming Web

The night passed without incident.

Just before dawn the next morning, the gathered cultivators silently appeared in the air above the so-called “heretic sect’s lair.”

“This is the place?” Zi Ling the Immortalette asked, her delicate brow furrowed as she examined the small, dark island below several times.

It was truly too small—only a few li in circumference from front to back. Calling it an island was generous; it was more like a massive reef.

“That’s correct. The Golden Cicada Bees tracked them here, and both elders also came to confirm it. The people entering and exiting are indeed those heretics,” Madam Fan said softly from the side.

Hearing this, the purple-robed woman gave a silent nod, her remaining doubts dispelled.

Still, this place was clearly just a temporary foothold for their targets.

Not only was the island pitifully small, but the only defensive measure above it was a crude, minor illusion array—utterly incapable of stopping anyone.

“Spare no one.”

At Zi Ling’s ice-cold command, a strange laugh came from the dark cloud overhead. With a few rumbling thunderbolts, Chi Huo the Ancient Monster easily blasted the array clean away. The cultivators then descended without further ceremony.

The commotion of the broken array obviously alarmed those on the island.

With a series of sharp howls, nearly forty to fifty streaks of light rose from the island as a large group of cultivators flew up to meet them. At the lead were three Core Formation cultivators. The moment they saw the cultivators from the Sublime Sound Sect, they froze in surprise.

Before they could react, Madam Fan had already barked out, “Attack!” and released a silver wheel magic tool, initiating the assault.

Seeing this, the other cultivators did not hold back and joined the fray.

In an instant, light of every color sprayed across the sky as sharp whistles filled the air.

Since Han Li was after the Divine Thunder Bamboo, he naturally felt obliged to put on a show of force. He and Qu Hun casually released their respective treasures, encircling five or six Foundation Establishment cultivators with the intent of wiping them out in one fell swoop.

With their Core Formation cultivation, dealing with a few Foundation Establishment opponents should have been effortless. But what happened next made Han Li’s eyes go wide.

Upon realizing they were facing Core Formation cultivators, the expressions of the five or six Foundation Establishment cultivators shifted dramatically. Then, in unison, they tore through their robes as their bodies swelled wildly—transforming into an image Han Li knew all too well: the Demonic Corpse form of the Black Fiend Sect.

For a moment, Han Li was so stunned he nearly dropped his guard.

Even after their transformation, their speed and cultivation had only risen so far. And Han Li was no longer the Foundation Establishment junior he had once been. The group held out a little longer than before, but they were ultimately turned to ash by Han Li’s Green煌 Sword and the Chaotic Yuan Bowl.

It was only then that Han Li noticed the differences. These transformations did not require incantations or a blood cocoon like the Black Fiend Sect’s Demonic Corpses. Furthermore, their bodies contained no Blood Coagulation Five Elements Pills.

This only deepened Han Li’s confusion. He wondered just what connection these bandits had to the Black Fiend Sect.

But he quickly forced himself to focus and surveyed the battlefield. Now was not the time for idle speculation—letting someone sneak up on him would be an absurd way to die.

Yet, what he saw only made the mystery grow.

Among the heretics, nearly all Foundation Establishment cultivators could use the Demonic Corpse transformation technique. They had formed small squads, fighting back with savage ferocity.

Their three Core Formation cultivators had already been pulled into the dark cloud by Chi Huo the Ancient Monster’s magic and were trapped within. The constant rumbling from the cloud suggested they were barely holding on.

With this advantage, the Sublime Sound Sect’s forces—several Core Formation cultivators plus a dozen Foundation Establishment fighters—laid into the enemy relentlessly. In a short time, over half of the heretics had been wiped out.

Yet the survivors fought on, utterly unafraid, showing no sign of retreat.

Their sheer tenacity left the Sublime Sound Sect disciples stunned. Whispers of unease spread through their ranks.

Suddenly, a furious roar erupted from below, shaking the air. The Sublime Sound Sect cultivators felt their ears ring, and their faces paled.

“What are you waiting for? Finish them! The real trouble is coming!” Chi Huo’s sharp voice rang out from within the cloud.

Snapped out of their hesitation, the cultivators urgently urged their treasures and magic tools, pressing the attack with renewed vigor.

Emboldened by the roar, the island’s defenders fought back with even greater ferocity, stalling the offensive.

Then, several gray-white streaks shot up from the island, arriving in the air in the blink of an eye.

The Sublime Sound Sect cultivators halted their assault, staring warily at the five new Core Formation opponents.

At the lead was a tall, middle-aged man with a dark expression. His features were well-proportioned, but his face was twisted with killing intent. The fluctuations of magic power around him suggested he was far stronger than his companions—likely a late Core Formation cultivator. The other four were ordinary early Core Formation cultivators, but their eyes also burned with rage as they glared at the Sublime Sound Sect party.

“Who are you, to dare slaughter the disciples of our Hidden Fiend Sect? I will make you pay for every drop of blood spilled!” the middle-aged man growled, his voice thick with venom as he swept his gaze over the few remaining disciples.

Everyone froze.

Something was off. Why did this bandit act as if he had done nothing wrong, speaking with such righteous fury?

The more perceptive among them began to hesitate, casting doubtful looks toward Zi Ling and Madam Fan.

Zi Ling’s clear eyes flickered with suspicion. She was about to speak when someone let out a shout and burst forward.

“Enough talk! You all deserve to die!”

It was Elder Zhao, who had been following closely behind Madam Fan. He suddenly flew out from the crowd and raised his hand, releasing a spear of fire over three meters long toward the middle-aged man.

The man’s eyes flashed with cold fury.

In an instant, his figure spun like a top, and with a whoosh, gray-white demonic energy erupted over ten meters high around his body. The roiling cloud of energy quickly condensed into a massive, ghastly white ghost face.

The moment it appeared, the ghost face opened its gaping maw and charged forward with savage intent.

Elder Zhao’s fire spear plunged straight into the ghost face’s mouth, vanishing without a trace.

Without pausing, the ghost face lunged directly at Elder Zhao himself.

Shock spread across Elder Zhao’s face.

In a flash of movement, he retreated even faster than he had charged, weaving back into the crowd while shouting loudly: “Everyone attack together! This bastard is a late Core Formation cultivator—none of us can take him alone!”

His blatant incitement had its effect. Two Core Formation cultivators and a number of Foundation Establishment disciples from the Sublime Sound Sect immediately released their magic tools and spells at the ghost head.

But many more held back, watching coldly with expressions of doubt.

The battlefield had fallen into chaos.

Seeing this, Han Li’s brow twitched slightly. Though he had not moved, he and Qu Hun began to slide backward.

Something was very wrong.

He had no idea what was coming, but he was already preparing to withdraw at the first sign of real danger.

“Hold! There is something strange at play here,” Zi Ling finally said, her voice cold as she barked the order at the Sublime Sound Sect disciples.

But those who had already attacked ignored her completely, continuing to hammer away at the ghost head as if she had not spoken.

Watching this, Han Li and the others who had held back felt their hearts sink.

The middle-aged man was no fool either. He, too, had noticed the strangeness.

After a moment of hesitation, he decisively waved his hand. The ghost head let out a strange howl, opening its mouth once more. Countless gray-white spheres sprayed out, battering the surrounding magic tools and treasures until they staggered and fell back. The ghost head then retreated to hover protectively before the man.

The cultivators who had attacked were momentarily stunned. Without someone leading the charge, no one dared to advance alone.

“Someone tell me—what is the meaning of this?” Zi Ling finally flew forward and stopped in the middle, her voice icy as she addressed both sides.

“Meaning? You slaughter my sect’s disciples for no reason, and you ask me?” the middle-aged man growled, his voice dark and cold. His eyes had taken on an eerie green hue.

“Your people raided our Sublime Sound Sect’s goods and killed our Sect Leader. Was it you?” the purple-robed woman asked, her gaze locked on his, her tone devoid of emotion.

“Nonsense! Though the Hidden Fiend Sect rarely deals with outsiders, we would never stoop to such shameful acts,” the man shouted, his face tight with rage.

Zi Ling fell silent, her beautiful eyes growing cold as ice.

The others had also begun to realize what was happening. Their expressions shifted.

“It seems both sides have fallen into someone’s trap,” Madam Fan suddenly said as she stepped forward from the crowd.

“Tch. You have fallen into a trap. We were simply caught in the crossfire,” the middle-aged man said, his face as dark as water.

He had spent years cultivating these disciples, and nearly all of them had been wiped out in a single day. Even knowing the Sublime Sound Sect cultivators might be dupes, his hatred for them was bone-deep.

Had he not been outnumbered in Core Formation fighters and uncertain of how to handle the mysterious cultivator in the dark cloud, he would have already burned his own vitality to cripple them, revenge or no.

Zi Ling remained icily silent. Madam Fan, for her part, could only offer a bitter smile.

“Elder Zhao. Elder Fu. Don’t you two have something to explain?” Zi Ling slowly turned her head, fixing her gaze on two figures in the crowd as she spoke with measured calm.