undercurrents

Chapter 15

Wang Shitian soared through the air, breaking trees in his path until finally crashing to the ground. As he rose to his feet, a small trickle of blood stained the corner of his mouth. Another attack came hurtling toward him, but he managed to block it. Wang Shitian, no longer holding back, unleashed his full power. The forest trembled as the booming sounds echoed through the air. Despite using only his palm techniques and forgoing weapons, he was able to keep up with the little demon king. His understanding deepened, and his attacks became increasingly dangerous, shattering anything they touched into smithereens.

During the intense battle, Wang Shitian noticed a change in the aura surrounding the little demon king. Initially resembling a blood sea, it now emanated a more sinister and ghostly presence. The black devilish Qi filled him with fear. With each passing moment, Wang Shitian's techniques improved as he tapped into the full extent of his abilities.

After a prolonged period of fierce combat where neither side gained the upper hand, the little demon king chose to retreat. "Hmph, I don't have time for this. I have other priorities," he sneered. "You're lucky this time, boy. Next time, I'll take your head."

With those words, he swiftly dashed into the forest, disappearing from sight. His incredible speed and ghostlike movements left Wang Shitian suspicious, but he couldn't discern the true nature of the little demon king's abilities. If he possessed more knowledge, he would have realized that the little demon king had utilized techniques that were typically reserved for the Foundation Establishment Realm, risking his own future and severing his meridians.

Meanwhile, the little demon king, now in a secluded mountain cave, harbored a cold gleam in his eyes. Thoughts raced through his mind as he pondered the identity of the brat who dared to disrupt his plans. If not for this remote location at the edge of the world, he would have descended with his true form. However, he knew it was only a matter of time. His eyes returned to normal, masking the possession that seemed to have taken hold of him. Taking out a blood pearl, he gazed at it with a mix of longing and expectation. Closing his eyes, he began to recuperate, aware that he could only rely on a few skills in his current weakened state. Wang Shitian proved to be a formidable opponent, and he nursed a grudge against him for interrupting his blood refinement process, leaving the blood pearl only about 80% complete. This fueled his anger.

Weeks passed, and news spread of the ongoing battle between the two formidable warriors. Wherever they crossed paths, they engaged in combat, leaving no room for others to interfere.

In a dark and sinister world saturated with devil Qi, the moon hung blood-red in the sky, casting an eerie shadow as if it were eclipsed. Deep within a mountain peak resonating with ghost Qi, a white-haired man opened his eyes, their gaze burning with anger.

"Which insolent brat dares to pester my clone relentlessly? Just you wait," he muttered with palpable fury. He called out, "Mo Zhe!" and an old man entered, bowing deferentially, waiting for his orders without uttering a word.

"Go to the mainland and head to the border of my Darkmoon domain. Facilitate the refinement of my blood bead," the white-haired man commanded, his voice calm and resolute.

Mo Zhe nodded, excusing himself from the cave. As he walked out, he hastened to make necessary preparations, accompanied by two other disciples. All three were at the Core Formation level, their cultivation allowing them to fly through the air without the aid of flying swords.

They soared towards the sect's teleportation array and swiftly arrived in a different world—the mainland of the Northern Desolate. Making their way towards the border, one of the disciples couldn't help but ask Mo Zhe, "Senior brother, is the blood bead that the 7th prince is refining truly worth all this trouble?"

The other disciple chimed in, "I have the same question. We are already on the brink of a full-blown war with the Sky Covering Sect. If that happens, the Buddhist Sect will undoubtedly seize the opportunity. Is it really worth it?"

Mo Zhe's voice turned stern as he replied, "Are you worthy to discuss matters concerning the princes? I advise you to be cautious with your words, lest you lose your lives. Furthermore, from what I've gathered, this matter is not as simple as we perceive. For now, we must focus on carrying out our orders to the best of our abilities."

The disciples fell silent, realizing the gravity of the situation.

Within a lavishly decorated palace in the One Leaf Sect, two men sat in meditation. One was an old man with sharp, grey eyes, while the other appeared to be in his late twenties. Both wore the sect's uniform, and the palace brimmed with abundant spiritual Qi, surpassing any other place in the sect.

As they focused on their cultivation, the door creaked open, and Li Tianming, the sect master, entered. "Junior brother, I see you are nearing the peak of Foundation Establishment. Why do you have time to visit us?" one of the men asked, his eyes still closed.

Li Tianming replied, "I just wanted to inform the senior brothers that I will be heading into battle. I believe it will aid me in comprehending the 13th level of the Longevity Art."

The younger man opened his eyes and cautioned, "Be careful this time. We've received news that three core formation disciples from the Darkmoon Sect are heading towards the border. It's likely they are about to initiate the blood bead refinement. Take this jade token. If you are in danger, crush it."

Li Tianming caught the jade token, a grateful smile on his face as he thanked them. He knew this token provided an additional layer of protection. Lately, his mood had been somber, for the progress of the war aligned with his predictions, leaving him feeling insecure.

After bowing again, Li Tianming left the hall. The senior men exchanged glances, realizing they too needed to prepare. They might soon be drawn into the escalating conflict. The old man spoke, "The Darkmoon Sect's objective is likely not limited to the blood bead. It's too peculiar."

"Hmph, they are wicked, provoking both ghosts and men. Heaven will punish them and aid us in delivering justice on behalf of the people," the younger man declared with a righteous air, his released aura tinged with determination.

The old man merely opened a slit of his eye, glanced at him, and then closed it, resuming his meditation without uttering another word. They both understood the gravity of the situation and continued their cultivation, preparing themselves for the challenges that lay ahead.