Chapter Fifty-Five: Frenzied Loss, Part One

Ye Skylark gazed at Night Unending before her, her heart a tumult of emotions. She had wished for his appearance, yet now that he stood here, regret washed over her—she wished he had not come.

“Night Unending, what are you doing here? Hurry up and leave!” Ye Skylark shouted, certain that Night Unending could not defeat Lu Li. After all, Night Unending had only managed to drive away the Lord of Lingfeng City, who was at the ninth tier of the Spirit Gathering Realm, by succumbing to demonic influence.

Night Unending raised his head coldly, facing Ye Skylark, and removed his black robe, draping it over her, shielding her exposed form.

A tremor shook the ground once more. Behind Night Unending, another figure appeared. Ye Skylark peered through the gap at his neck and was startled.

“Isn’t that... the immortal? The one who summoned the nine tigers? The one who called Ye Luyue and Ye Luyue 'Grandmother'?” Upon seeing Night Unending, Ye Skylark finally understood: it was this man before her who had, indirectly, postponed the destruction of the Ye family.

Shadowfiend was in dire straits himself. After a fierce battle, his clothes were torn and ragged; fighting across a major realm was a strain. The feeling was infuriating—like pouring out a bowl after carrying a barrel, only to have the barrel sealed, and then going to challenge another's barrel with just a bowl. It was both exhilarating and frustrating.

Lu Li looked at the youth, battered and worn—clearly having endured a fierce battle with his master. Yet, the youth appeared, but his master had not. Could it be...? The thought sent a chill down Lu Li’s spine, his scalp tingling.

Four colossal tigers leapt from Shadowfiend’s body, encircling Lu Li from four directions, their gaze fierce and predatory.

Lu Li’s expression changed. He had been preparing to flee; if even his master had been defeated by the youth, remaining would mean certain death. Yet the youth clearly saw through his intent.

Night Unending glanced at the chains of spiritual power binding Ye Skylark’s hands and gripped one. Instantly, his palm sizzled, white smoke rising as if he held a piece of red-hot iron.

He grasped the other chain, and with a powerful tug, they snapped with a resounding crack. The broken ends dissolved into nothing. The rupture seemed to affect Lu Li as well; he quickly retrieved the chains.

Night Unending cradled Ye Skylark, carrying her toward Ye Luyue and Ye Luyue. Upon arriving, he had found the two women unconscious beneath a tree, but Ye Skylark’s condition was more critical, so he rescued her first.

Ye Skylark’s cheeks flushed, her gaze stealing glances at Night Unending’s face—resolute, cold, handsome, powerful. Being held in his arms felt so safe that she wished, unconsciously, for time to freeze in this moment forever.

“Bah! Ye Skylark, what are you thinking? He’s Moon and Snow’s husband. Have you no shame?” She shook her head fiercely, her cheeks rosy and inviting.

“Don’t move, your wounds are reopening,” Night Unending said coldly.

He knew no healing arts, nor did he carry any medicinal pills, so he could only insist Ye Skylark stay still.

He gently set her down against a tree. Shadowfiend, following behind, produced a small, ancient red bottle from his pouch.

“Ancestor, this is the Hundred Herbs Blue Pill—crafted from the essence of over a hundred rare flowers and herbs. It works wonders for both internal and external injuries. The honored grandmother’s wounds are external; after taking it and circulating her cultivation, she’ll recover quickly.”

Shadowfiend knelt reverently, holding out the bottle.

“Grandmother?” Ye Skylark was stunned by Shadowfiend’s words, her face instantly flushed, shyly glancing at Night Unending, saying nothing as if compelled by some invisible force.

Night Unending likewise said nothing, taking the bottle from Shadowfiend, uncorking it, releasing a strange medicinal fragrance. He poured out a pill and fed it to Ye Skylark, then casually tucked the bottle away, leaning down to gently stroke the pale faces of the two women.

Shadowfiend, witnessing Night Unending’s actions, felt a chill in his heart, unable to suppress a bitter smile—his precious medicine!

He gently wiped the blood from the women’s lips, and a fierce killing intent, barely restrained, began to coalesce around Night Unending, invisible yet palpable.

The wind rose; white hair fluttered in the breeze.

“Who hurt them?” Night Unending spoke coldly, his voice devoid of emotion, echoing as though from the depths of the underworld, making Shadowfiend tremble.

“Ancestor is opening the path? Gathering his force?” Shadowfiend thought, his heart quaking. Beneath the Immortal Path, myriad ways contend—whether sword, blade, or any of the countless great paths.

The Golden Core is called the Great Dao of the Golden Core, for only when a gifted cultivator crosses the Dragon Bridge at the Golden Core stage do they have a fleeting chance to comprehend their own Dao, their own force.

Aside from crossing the Dragon Bridge, future opportunities to comprehend one’s Dao are scarce and difficult.

The Dao is not within cultivation or realm; it transcends them—a path infinitely close to the Immortal Way.

Fail to comprehend one’s Dao, and no matter how earth-shattering their cultivation, how boundless their magic, how invincible in the world, when the Immortal Path opens they cannot enter. The Immortal Way eludes them, and after countless ages, they become nothing but dust, forgotten with time.

Even among thousands of Golden Core cultivators, crossing the Dragon Bridge does not guarantee the slightest comprehension of the Dao; it merely offers a chance.

Simply put, those who comprehend their own Dao advance closer to the Immortal Way, regardless of cultivation.

The Dao is difficult; immortality, more so.

Shadowfiend had never seen a cultivator walk their own Dao, and was unsure of Night Unending’s current state. Though no spiritual power fluctuated, a strange energy filled the world, centered upon Night Unending, as if dormant yet gathering.

Shadowfiend’s instincts, honed by years as an assassin, screamed that Night Unending was dangerous—a primordial dam, containing endless rage and wildness, awaiting only a fissure to erupt.

He dared not linger on the thought, replying,

“It was he who hurt the three grandmothers!” Shadowfiend pointed at Lu Li. “Ancestor, I will kill him at once!”

“No need. I will handle this myself,” Night Unending replied coldly. “You—go and slaughter everyone in the Lu and Mu families. Leave no survivors.”

“But ancestor, your cultivation...”

Night Unending waved him off, halting further words.

From his first sight of Night Unending, Shadowfiend knew the rumors were true—the ancestor had indeed dispersed his cultivation, now only emanating the power of a fifth-tier Spirit Gathering Realm.

But this was the ancestor—the Blood Demon, who six thousand years ago launched the three great wars of the primordial era! Who dared defy him?

The Blood Demon Ancestor’s might swept heaven and earth, shrouding sun and sky; throughout the primordial world, whether demon, buddha, emperor—who dared defy him?

In the legendary battle of the emperors, the Blood Demon Ancestor, wielding sacred cultivation, faced twenty half-emperor powers alone, shattering countless stars, distorting space, sending the Golden Crow fleeing, and casting sun and moon into darkness. His demonic might shook the heavens and subdued the primordial world! The first of his kind in ten thousand years—who dared defy him?

Even stripped of cultivation, Shadowfiend did not believe that a mere Forming Realm could harm the ancestor, whose power was boundless.

What of lost cultivation? The Blood Demon’s might made even sages step aside!

“Yes, ancestor! I obey!” Shadowfiend knelt, summoning the four giant tigers that had surrounded Lu Li. He leapt onto one’s back, and with a bound, they vanished into the forest.

Lu Li, seeing the youth depart, breathed a sigh of relief. Though he did not know why Night Unending had ordered the youth away, now that the threat was gone, he felt safe; he did not believe Night Unending at the fifth tier of Spirit Gathering Realm could threaten him.

“If you wish to die, do not blame me!” Lu Li growled, gathering a chain of spiritual power and sending it underground.

In a flash, the chain reached within two meters of Night Unending, striking like a venomous serpent toward his heart.

Night Unending, still gently stroking the women’s faces, seemed unaware of the danger behind him.

“Night Unending, watch out!” Ye Skylark exclaimed. They were close, so she instinctively moved to shield him, the chain poised to pierce her chest.

“Am I... dead?” Ye Skylark waited, but felt no pain. Slowly opening her eyes, her heart trembled again—before her, the chain was gripped in a powerful hand, its tip only half a finger’s width from her chest. The hand sizzled with white smoke, yet held firm, refusing to yield an inch.

Night Unending’s deep voice resounded behind her.

“When a man draws his sword, you’d best stand behind him.” Night Unending, gripping the sword, pulled up the black robe slipping from Ye Skylark’s shoulders, refusing to glance at her exposed form, and whispered in her ear, “Stay still, don’t move.”

“Um... you... you be careful,” Ye Skylark stammered, feeling the warmth of his breath on her neck, her body tingling, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Night Unending clenched his hand, veins bulging, sensing the chain was much tougher than before.

But it was no match for Night Unending’s immense strength—the chain shattered.

“How... how is this possible!” Lu Li cried in disbelief. The previous chains he had used to bind Ye Skylark were only slightly stronger than ordinary iron; Night Unending crushing them was not surprising. But this chain contained thirty percent of his spiritual power. Though much of his cultivation had been depleted, a chain formed from thirty percent of his power should not have been so easily broken by someone at the Spirit Gathering Realm!