Across the sky, painted black and red by drifting volcanic ash, two beams of misty light flashed forward. After traveling dozens of li, the two figures abruptly ceased their descent and landed on a scorched, dark-red expanse of ground. Where the earth had been repeatedly burned incandescent by the subterranean fire and subsequently cooled, it had formed a charred black crust, crisscrossed with winding fissures. Faint, dark-red light flickered from within, occasionally spitting out small jets of incandescent magma.

Neither figure truly touched the ground; instead, they hovered three chi above it, suspended in mid-air. Lei Dong executed his Ghostly Shadow Evasion, leaving behind faint afterimages with every shift in position, his true self already several zhang away. Qi Feifei transformed into a swirl of peach-red mist, drifting gracefully in his wake. Within the undulating red fog, a hint of her delicate, attractive form would occasionally materialize and then vanish.

They proceeded at an unhurried pace for several more shi li. After landing, the pair took a moment to regulate their breathing. At this point, Qi Feifei’s senses were significantly sharper.

What puzzled her was that the two targets were extremely close, nearly occupying the same spot. Their exact bearing and location were perfectly clear now—just a few li distant.

They advanced stealthily for several li, passing through a small, fiery canyon, eventually reaching the edge of a basin. Within this basin stood numerous colossal stones, separated by deep trenches running vertically and horizontally. Perhaps it had once been a lava pool, and this scarred depression was left after the magma receded.

By now, Lei Dong could clearly see two figures seated cross-legged on two reddish-scorched boulders not far apart. The one on the left was powerfully built, radiating fierce, explosive energy, clad in a kasaya robe, with shaven hair, unmistakably the monk Jiecben. On the right boulder sat one encased in dark leather armor, long hair cascading over his shoulders, face contorted in ferocity—none other than Wupeng of the Asura Path.

However, these two looked as if they had just concluded the most savage battle imaginable: their robes were tattered, and their armor shattered. Jiecben’s kasaya had been ripped to shreds, its spiritual light dimmed. He was covered in countless wounds, the most grievous likely being the horrifying saber gash across his chest that seemed to have nearly pierced his heart. Wupeng was no better off; on his back, directly over his armor, was a deep palm print, dark and bruised. One arm hung limply by his side, whether dislocated or simply broken, it was impossible to tell.

Both men’s qi signatures were exceedingly faint. It seemed their most serious injuries were internal, perhaps even affecting their Divine Souls. Such devastation clearly indicated that both had been prepared to fight to the death, and had indeed acted upon that intention.

For the pair of Lei Dong and Qi Feifei, even facing the two at their peak strength, their odds of victory would outweigh defeat. Moreover, whether these two could even manage a single movement was questionable. Without hesitation, Lei Dong rose, enveloping himself in a swirl of black mist, and shot forward. Qi Feifei followed Lei Dong’s lead, giggling coquettishly as she flew: “Senior Brother Lei, look at that poor little monk’s wretched state, tsk tsk, truly pitiful. Let Feifei send him on his way.”

Qi Feifei knew Lei Dong harbored some grievance against the monk, so she preemptively offered to deliver the killing blow. It was merely a lamb ready for slaughter anyway, and currying favor with Lei Dong by doing so was beneficial. After all, her very life remained tightly held in his grasp.

Startled by the sudden arrival, Jiecben and Wupeng, who were meditating to heal, opened their eyes. Upon seeing Lei Dong of the Yin Fiend Sect and Qi Feifei of the Joyful Union Sect, Wupeng’s expression visibly relaxed slightly. He was naturally a highly combative individual, and encountering the equally warlike Jiecben had been a perfect match. Who knew that this single battle would result in mutual ruin? Furthermore, neither was willing to concede; they were healing in full view of the other, and before injuries were fully recovered, they resumed fighting. After two or three such rounds, even a battle-hungry fighter like Wupeng was starting to buckle. Not only were his body wounds severe, but his Divine Soul had also suffered repeated, difficult-to-heal damage. Yet, both were stubbornly holding onto a competitive spirit, unwilling to yield to the other.

If Wupeng found it unbearable, how could Jiecben fare any better? Asura Heaven, one of the world’s eight supreme sects, was not to be trifled with, and Wupeng was no mere nobody within Asura Heaven; he was a genuine, top-tier expert among the younger generation.

Wupeng breathed a sigh of relief because they both belonged to the Demonic Path, and in situations demanding unity against outsiders, mutual aid was customary. Especially since the relationship between Asura Heaven and the Joyful Union Sect was excellent, much like that between the Yin Fiend Sect and the Demon Prison Sect. But Jiecben, hearing Qi Feifei’s remarks, saw a flicker of helpless despair cross his eyes. He remained fiercely resolute, roaring, “Vicious woman, kill me if you must, why waste breath?”

“You thieving bald donkey, you court death,” Qi Feifei drawled, even when cursing, she retained her habitually charming and soul-captivating manner. Since the lines between righteousness and evil were drawn, she dispensed with any pretense of politeness. Her magnificent crimson flying sword shot forth, growing larger as it traveled. Before covering half the distance, it had already exceeded ten zhang, trailing a beautiful fiery tail as the swirling red mist billowed behind it.

Jiecben tried to move, but the severe trauma to his Divine Soul made movement difficult. Knowing the situation was dire, he felt his fate was sealed. He showed no fear, instead fixing his angry gaze intensely upon Qi Feifei.

Just then, Lei Dong’s brow furrowed—his surrounding ghostly qi condensed into a sound like… Zheng! As this low, metallic chime resonated, a streak of cyan light hurtled over with extreme speed, striking Qi Feifei’s crimson flying sword with perfect precision. As the cyan light dissipated, the trajectory of the crimson sword was halted, causing it to spin wildly in mid-air. Simultaneously, a swirl of hazy white vapor drifted by, and a woman in a flowing white dress, holding an ancient guqin, stood gracefully before the group. She sighed softly, “Qi Feifei, taking advantage of someone’s weakness like this truly sullies your reputation.”

“Reputation? Does the reputation of my Joyful Union Sect concern you? Tantai Bingyun.” Qi Feifei focused her sight and realized it was indeed Tantai Bingyun who had appeared to stop her from killing Jiecben. Feeling a mix of shame and annoyance, she scornfully sneered, “Tantai Bingyun, I’ll bet you weren’t just passing by; you deliberately detoured to lecture me. Tsk tsk, don't tell me you have something going on with this monk? You little hypocrite, always acting so pure and reserved, yet you’re sneaking around with men.”

Lei Dong couldn't help but smile faintly. Qi Feifei’s insults warmed his own heart. Regardless, he found Tantai Bingyun incredibly irritating. Moreover, she had openly declared her intent to slaughter his entire Myriad Ghost lineage; how could Lei Dong possibly hold any favorable opinion of her?

“Qi Feifei, you court death.” Although Tantai Bingyun possessed high innate talent and formidable strength, she was ultimately still rather young. Furthermore, she had spent most of her life in secluded cultivation. Never in her life had she heard such filthy language that caused her ears to burn. Enraged, gritting her teeth, she flushed with anger, and with a sweep of her guqin in the air, her ten slender fingers danced rapidly. Zheng zheng zheng—a rapid flurry of musical notes burst forth from her instrument, carrying a unique, vigorous air of combat.

Streaks of cyan light, curved like bows and sharp as blades, lashed out, ceaselessly showering toward Qi Feifei. Qi Feifei’s protective spiritual shield had already been compromised by fire damage, so she was forced to erect a light barrier around her body first. Then, her red mist surged, and her crimson flying sword darted about like panicked fish, meeting the incoming cyan beams. Combined with her rather excellent footwork, while she appeared somewhat flustered, she managed to hold her own.

However, Tantai Bingyun perhaps detested Qi Feifei intensely. She accelerated the tempo of her music, and a clangorous, murderous aura permeated the air. The shooting cyan lights intensified even further. Qi Feifei’s innate strength was already significantly inferior to Tantai Bingyun’s, and the cultivation method she practiced was designed for the Yin-Yang union required to break through to the Golden Core stage. She quickly began to struggle, unable to fully parry the attacks.

Lei Dong certainly could not stand by and watch Qi Feifei be killed; this would not only damage his own Divine Soul but also jeopardize his chances of reaching the Golden Core stage. With a cold snort, offering no explanation, he directly joined the fray. But to conceal his true power, he only summoned his two ghost guards, Pojun and Hanbing. As the two guards lunged toward Tantai Bingyun, the Myriad Ghost Banner seemed to unleash hundreds, perhaps thousands, of vengeful spirits, which, though not entirely blotting out the sky, coalesced into a dark cloud and surged toward Tantai Bingyun.

Lei Dong himself was also enveloped in spectral ghost qi, shrouding the area tens of zhang around him in a chilling, eerie gloom, like clouds obscuring the sun. Following closely behind the mass of ghosts, the ghost servants, invigorated by the dark spectral qi, appeared even more savage and fierce. A series of high-pitched squeaks echoed, causing the hearts of those nearby to feel anxious and agitated.

Tantai Bingyun was slightly taken aback by the sheer imposing might of Lei Dong’s spectral legion. Exasperated and enraged, she shrieked, “Demonic Path scum! Despicable and shameless, ganging up on a single opponent!”

“Laughable,” Lei Dong retorted with a disdainful cold snort. “Do you expect cultivators of the Demonic Path to line up obediently and stretch out our necks for you to slaughter one by one? You intend to wipe out my Myriad Ghost Grotto lineage, and you expect Lei Mou to observe gentlemanly conduct with you? Tantai Bingyun, I think your brain has been kicked by a donkey—truly all bust and no brains.”

The phrase "all bust and no brains" momentarily stunned her. But quickly, her face turned pale with shame and fury. As the swarm of evil spirits closed in, her slender white fingers forcefully struck the guqin.

Zhen!

A deep, heart-shaking note resonated, creating ripples in the air centered around her, spreading outward. The outermost, weakest were tossed aside, but the remaining majority, the stronger ones, pounced with greater ferocity.

Lei Dong seized the opportunity to press forward, guiding his spectral qi to envelop her. Once closed in, Tantai Bingyun proved formidable. Moving unpredictably like a fairy treading on clouds, her sleeves, which had somehow become extremely long, billowed like cloud-sleeves, weaving and striking, engaging the two ghost guards in a fierce melee. Her guqin was equally strange; it followed her movements with uncanny precision, allowing her to play it freely whenever she extended her left hand.

Her fingers were incredibly agile, like a fluttering butterfly, deftly plucking and stroking the harsh strings.