Chapter 12

Turning around, Liang Zhiguan's gaze pierced through the dimly lit cave like a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog. To his collective horror and the group's collective astonishment, a massive herd of high-ranked monsters materialised in the cavern's mouth, their monstrous forms casting long, ominous shadows. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare, the kind you wake up from in a cold sweat. Even Liang Zhiguan, renowned for his formidable prowess and typically unflappable demeanour, recognized the utter impossibility of facing this grotesque menagerie alone.

The horde comprised ogre-like demons, their bulging muscles and wickedly curved tusks glistening in the eerie half-light. Interspersed among them were colossal spiders, each the size of a human head, their hairy legs and mandibles clicking menacingly as they advanced. The combined sight of these nightmarish creatures advancing was enough to turn even the bravest warrior's legs to jelly.

Seeing her opportunity amidst the confusion, the demon girl, Yuan Jiayi, seized the moment with a cunning grin and fled. She moved with the grace of a gazelle and the speed of a cheetah, disappearing into the darkness before the dumbstruck disciples could even react. 

Back in the observation room, the sight on the screen caused Xue Xinyu's eyes to widen in alarm, his eyebrows practically reaching for his hairline. Springing to his feet like a cat suddenly doused in water, he bellowed, "REOPEN THE PORTAL!" His voice boomed across the room, echoing like a gong. The trial had barely commenced, yet chaos had already descended upon them with the subtlety of a falling piano.

All eyes were glued to the monitors as they witnessed the unthinkable: an onslaught of formidable undead creatures swarming into existence, not just confined to Liang Zhiguan's vicinity, but appearing on nearly every monitor. It was as if someone had opened a gate to the underworld, and the creatures were pouring out in droves, ready to turn the trial into a scene from a horror movie.

With a sense of urgency that could rival a fire drill, the portal was reopened, and a frenzied exodus ensued. This colossal incursion wasn't part of the trial's design, and it was clear that it had spiralled wildly out of control. The peak masters, leaders, and higher authorities, normally content to watch from the sidelines, now had no choice but to intervene.

"I'll go to the forest where Liang Zhiguan is. The monsters should have trouble reaching the mountains, so after gathering the disciples, head there," Xue Xinyu instructed, his tone a blend of command and urgency. As someone with the most knowledge about undead creatures, he had to take the lead in this crisis. His expertise was their best bet for navigating the chaos.

Huai Xiaozhun, one of the most learned and undoubtedly the strongest among the peak masters, often took charge in such crises. His guidance was seen as invaluable rather than commanding, and no one minded because, frankly, they couldn't do it better. He offered sage suggestions, emphasising the relative safety of the mountains, where the rugged terrain would hopefully provide a natural barrier against the monstrous horde.

Mounted upon his sword, Xue Xinyu showcased a proficiency honed through countless hours of practice, scouring the landscape in search of Liang Zhiguan. The landscape blurred beneath him as he cut through the air, his eyes scanning for any sign of the embattled group. Suddenly, Xue Xinyu felt his sword veering off course, disobeying his commands and charting its own trajectory like a rebellious horse. 

Knowing his sword, Lánjiàn, to possess a will of its own, Xue Xinyu wrestled to maintain his balance, doggedly trailing its erratic path. After a fleeting moment of disorientation, realisation dawned—he discerned that the sword was guiding him to Liang Zhiguan.

As he drew nearer, Xue Xinyu could see the group valiantly battling against the relentless onslaught of monsters. Their efforts were palpably strained, and the sheer number of enemies made it look like they were trying to hold back a tidal wave with a sieve. Yet, mercifully, no severe injuries had befallen them, although Xue Xinyu could discern the telltale streak of blood tracing down Liang Zhiguan's arm even from a distance.

Descending swiftly, Xue Xinyu executed a deft aerial manoeuvre, dismounting from his sword several metres above the ground. With a forceful kick, he propelled the sword forward, landing deftly just ahead of Liang Zhiguan. His blade, Lánjiàn, leaped into action, dancing through the throng of monsters with lethal precision, slicing through limbs and exoskeletons like a hot knife through butter.

"Master Xue!" exclaimed some of the disciples, their voices tinged with relief and admiration. Xue Xinyu's arrival was like the cavalry charging in at the last minute, bringing a much-needed surge of hope.

Harnessing his qi, Xue Xinyu swiftly erected a formidable barrier around the group, a shimmering shield that flickered with an ethereal light, holding back the monstrous tide. Meanwhile, Lánjiàn continued its relentless assault on the encroaching horde, weaving through the air with a grace and lethality that left the monsters reeling.

Turning his attention to the disciples, Xue Xinyu's eyes were filled with concern and determination. "Are you all unharmed?" he inquired, his gaze sweeping over each of them before settling on Liang Zhiguan's wounded arm, which bore the marks of a vicious scrape. "Extend your arm," Xue Xinyu instructed, his voice firm but kind.

Liang Zhiguan, though clearly exhausted, managed a weary smile and extended his injured arm. The scrape, though not life-threatening, was a glaring reminder of the ferocity of their enemies. With a practised hand, Xue Xinyu channelled his qi into a healing wave, the wound sealing and the pain dissipating almost immediately.

As the last vestiges of the injury vanished, Xue Xinyu glanced up, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the horizon. The heavy footsteps he had heard earlier were now ominously close, each thud a harbinger of the unknown threat that loomed ever larger in his mind. He knew that whatever approached, it would not be easily deterred, and their ordeal was far from over.

"Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice low but resolute. "We've handled the underlings, but something bigger is on its way. We must be ready for whatever comes next." The disciples nodded, their faces set with determination, ready to face whatever new challenge awaited them in the darkness beyond.

"But Master Xue, he should avoid moving it too much," Junjie interjected, his concern etched across his face like a portrait of worry. His brows furrowed, and his eyes darted anxiously between Xue Xinyu and Liang Zhiguan, clearly troubled by the latter's well-being.

Xue Xinyu, unperturbed, waited patiently, locking eyes with Liang Zhiguan as if challenging him to a silent duel of wills. With a determined grunt and a look that could shoo away even the fiercest of demons, Liang Zhiguan managed to raise his arm, though it trembled like a leaf in a storm.

Xue Xinyu, with the gentleness of a monk tending to a delicate flower, clasped Liang Zhiguan's injured limb, his right hand hovering over the wound like a hovering guardian spirit. Liang Zhiguan winced as Xue Xinyu initiated his healing technique, his eyes momentarily squeezing shut as a flicker of pain darted across his features.

After a fleeting moment that felt like an eternity to the onlookers, a soft, ethereal white glow enveloped the area—the manifestation of qi, humming softly like a lullaby. The glow was serene, almost hypnotic, casting a tranquil light that seemed to banish the shadows and fears of the surrounding chaos. When Xue Xinyu withdrew his hand, the wound had vanished, leaving behind skin as pristine as untouched snow.

The disciples gazed at Xue Xinyu in utter disbelief, their jaws practically hitting the ground. Their eyes flicked between him and the now-healed wound, as if trying to reconcile the miracle they had just witnessed. The technique he wielded was an ancient art, rumoured to be known only to a select few and purportedly lost to the annals of time. Xue Xinyu's mastery of it was like discovering a hidden treasure chest in the attic—it was a revelation, a testament to his profound knowledge gleaned from the pages of a forbidden time or some dusty scroll hidden in the depths of a secret library.

"Thank you, Shizun," Liang Zhiguan murmured, his expression a mosaic of gratitude and awe, like a man who had just been handed a new lease on life. He flexed his arm experimentally, marvelling at the absence of pain.

"However, this barrier has its limits," Xue Xinyu cautioned, his voice taking on a steely edge as he surveyed the still-encroaching threat. "Junjie, and you," he gestured to another wide-eyed disciple who looked like he'd just seen a ghost, "you both hail from Hongyan Peak. Take your positions on opposite flanks and rain down arrows upon them." His voice carried the weight of authority, leaving no room for hesitation.

The disciples snapped to attention, their previously scattered expressions hardening into masks of determination. They moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, assuming their designated positions with a swiftness that would have made their drill sergeant proud.

"You," Xue Xinyu addressed a disciple from Fenghuang Peak, a young woman with a fiery determination burning in her eyes, "manipulate the earth beneath the monsters, impeding their advance. Create pits, raise barriers—do whatever it takes to slow them down."

The disciple nodded, her hands already beginning to weave intricate patterns in the air, her fingers dancing like a puppet master pulling unseen strings.

"And you, from Fuguang Peak," Xue Xinyu continued, turning to a disciple who seemed to blend into the background even as he stood in the middle of the group, "weave illusions to confound our foes. Make them see what isn't there, distract them, confuse them—keep them off balance."

The disciple grinned mischievously, his hands flickering with the promise of magical mischief as he prepared to weave a web of deception around their enemies.

As they swiftly assumed their designated roles, the disciples stood poised to enact Xue Xinyu's stratagem. They moved with a newfound purpose, their actions synchronising in a seamless ballet of defence and attack, each one complementing the other like notes in a perfectly orchestrated symphony.

"And what of me, Shizun?" inquired Liang Zhiguan, stepping forward with a look of earnest determination. He was like a knight ready to ride into battle, eager to play his part in the unfolding drama.

"Remain steadfast in the centre, ensuring none breach our defences. The rest falls to me," Xue Xinyu declared, retrieving something from his voluminous robes with the air of a magician about to unveil a trick. It was the infinity bag, a seemingly unremarkable pouch that, in reality, concealed a vast array of magical paraphernalia from prying eyes.

From the depths of this mysterious bag, he pulled forth a small, smooth stone, which seemed to shimmer with an inner light. Advancing toward Liang Zhiguan, he extended it to him with a solemn expression. "Hold onto this for the moment," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for questions.

"What is it?" queried Liang Zhiguan, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic object now resting in his palm. It felt warm to the touch, pulsating with a gentle rhythm like a tiny, contented heartbeat.

"All will become clear shortly," replied Xue Xinyu as the barrier began to wane, its shimmering surface flickering like a candle in the wind. His eyes flickered with a hint of mischief, suggesting that whatever revelation was to come, it would be anything but ordinary.

Meanwhile, Lánjiàn, the ever-loyal sword, continued its relentless assault upon the encroaching monsters. It moved with a deadly grace, slicing through the ranks of the grotesque creatures with a precision that left their foul-smelling entrails scattered across the ground.

With the barrier fully dissipated, the creatures surged forward once more, their grotesque forms surging like a dark, malevolent tide. The disciples, undeterred, redoubled their efforts, coordinating their actions with a fluidity that spoke of their training and resolve. They moved like a single entity, each one fulfilling their role with a precision that was almost mechanical in its efficiency.

"Master Xue, our defences are faltering. My qi is nearly spent," Junjie reported, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his hands trembled from the exertion of maintaining his attacks.

Recalling Lánjiàn to his side with a mere thought, Xue Xinyu withdrew a talisman from the infinity bag, affixing it to the blade with a deft motion. Instantly, the sword shimmered and replicated itself several times, the multiple iterations carving through the ranks of monsters with renewed vigour. It was as if the sword had multiplied its fury, each copy moving with the same lethal elegance as the original, turning the battlefield into a whirling dervish of deadly steel.

"Alright, listen up!" Xue Xinyu's voice cut through the cacophony like a bell. "We're not out of the woods yet, but we have the upper hand. Keep those monsters at bay and stick to your roles. And remember, we're not just fighting for ourselves; we're fighting for everyone back home."

The disciples nodded, their faces set with grim determination. They were ready to face whatever new challenge awaited them in the darkness beyond, each one resolved to hold their ground and protect their comrades, no matter the cost.

"Zhiguan, raise the stone aloft," commanded Xue Xinyu, his voice resonating with an authority that brooked no dissent. He stood tall and imposing, his robes fluttering like a banner in the breeze, as if daring the very forces of darkness to challenge his command. Following the directive with a mix of apprehension and trust, Liang Zhiguan elevated the stone above his head. Instantly, the stone burst into a radiant azure hue, glowing with an intensity that outshone the sun at midday.

"What in the world is happening?!" exclaimed one of the disciples, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and bewilderment as the brilliant light washed over them.

"It's like it's giving me energy!" marvelled Junjie, his eyes widening as he felt a rush of vitality coursing through his veins. He flexed his fingers, feeling the surge of qi renewing his strength and banishing the fatigue that had weighed him down moments before.

The light from the stone streamed forth like a river of pure power, infusing each disciple with a newfound vigor. It was as if the very essence of life was being poured into them, filling their bodies with a boundless energy that erased their weariness and fortified their spirits. The disciples stood taller, their eyes gleaming with renewed determination.

"It shares my qi with you all, for even I alone cannot vanquish them," Xue Xinyu elucidated, his tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of steely resolve. He glanced at each disciple in turn, his gaze lingering just long enough to convey his unspoken confidence in their abilities.

The revelation left the disciples stunned, their mouths agape and eyes wide. Who could possess a reservoir of qi so vast that it could be dispensed with such liberality? The question hung in the air, heavy with disbelief and awe. They had always known Xue Xinyu to be powerful, but this display of magnanimous strength surpassed anything they had ever imagined.

Xue Xinyu himself remained uncertain about the full extent of his own qi cores. They were a mystery even to him, a reservoir of power that seemed almost bottomless. He was wary of delving too deeply into their nature, lest he expose the demonic essence that lay hidden within him. Yet, driven by necessity and a fierce determination to protect his disciples, he employed every method at his disposal to overcome the overwhelming horde of monsters. He had no clear strategy, but his resolve to prevail was unwavering, like a rock standing firm against a tempest.

"We don't need to kill them all," Xue Xinyu said, his voice cutting through the noise of battle like a knife through butter. "Just enough to buy us time to escape." He paused, scanning the faces of his disciples. "Can all of you fly swords?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he assessed their capabilities.

After a series of vigorous nods confirmed that everyone could indeed fly on their swords, he began to formulate a plan for their swift departure. "Zhiguan, in a few seconds, I'll create an opportunity for you all to leave. Take them to the big mountain you flew by earlier. I'll follow later," Xue Xinyu instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

"But, Shizun—" Liang Zhiguan began to protest, his face a mask of concern and loyalty. However, he fell silent as Xue Xinyu fixed him with a stern look, a look that spoke volumes. It was a look that said, "Trust me," and "There is no time for debate." Nodding reluctantly, Liang Zhiguan quickly put the stone into his robe, the precious artefact disappearing into the folds of his clothing.

As the undead creatures surged towards Xue Xinyu like a tidal wave of malevolence, Liang Zhiguan led the others away, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he was leaving his master behind. He glanced back one more time, his eyes lingering on Xue Xinyu's solitary figure, before turning his attention to guiding the others to the safety of the mountain. He was determined to get them there safely, even if he couldn't help Xue Xinyu directly.

Amid the chaos, a revelation dawned upon Xue Xinyu, an epiphany so glaringly obvious that he almost laughed at his previous oversight: undead creatures were, by definition, deceased. Corpses. And with this realisation came a newfound strategy—a way to turn the very nature of his enemies against them. Despite the overwhelming odds and the countless creatures swarming towards him, Xue Xinyu knew he had found a way to seize control.

Recalling Lánjiàn to his side with a flick of his wrist, he caused the spectral duplicates of the sword to dissipate into nothingness, their lethal energy evaporating like mist in the morning sun. He held the sword aloft, its blade gleaming with an otherworldly light.

"Zalak'thul durvok'ash," he intoned, his voice taking on a deep, resonant quality that seemed to echo from the very depths of the earth. His eyes blazed with an intensified azure radiance, a light that pierced the darkness and illuminated the battlefield. In response, the monsters' eyes flickered with a darkened hue, a malevolent glow that hinted at the dark forces he was now commanding.

The creatures halted in their tracks, their movements stuttering to a stop as if some unseen hand had seized control of their bodies. They stood there, frozen, their grotesque forms illuminated by the eerie glow of Xue Xinyu's eyes, compelled to heed his command. The air crackled with energy, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

With a commanding sweep of his arm, Xue Xinyu directed the undead horde to turn on each other, their eyes flickering with confusion and reluctant obedience. They began to tear into their own ranks, a chaotic melee of claws and fangs, their darkened forms writhing and contorting as they fought amongst themselves. The battlefield, which moments before had been a scene of desperate struggle, was now a writhing mass of self-destruction, the creatures' malevolent energy turned inward.

Surveying the sprawling undead horde that stretched out before him like a sea of writhing limbs and gnashing teeth, Xue Xinyu's keen eyes honed in on the larger specimens. These creatures, towering over their lesser kin, often harbored cores—those pulsating, arcane orbs within their grotesque forms—that held considerable value or utility.

With a flick of his wrist, Lánjiàn danced through the air with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, its blade shimmering with an otherworldly light as it sliced through the ranks of monsters. Each strike was deliberate, calculated, aimed not just to slay but to retrieve. And as the monstrous bodies fell in its wake, their cores tumbled to the ground with a sickening squelch.

Employing a technique that would have made even the most seasoned warlocks envious, Xue Xinyu deftly drew forth the demonic qi contained within these cores. It was a delicate manipulation, akin to coaxing fire from ice or water from stone, requiring finesse and a deep understanding of the dark arts. The qi flowed into his grasp like a torrent, its malevolent energy mingling with his own, infusing him with power that surged through his veins like liquid fire.

Yet, with every influx of energy, Xue Xinyu couldn't ignore the discomfiting sensation that accompanied it—a tangible expansion of his demonic core. It was an unsettling feeling, akin to a serpent coiling within his chest, its scales brushing against his soul. But for all its unpleasantness, this expansion was indispensable for the task at hand.