Chapter 150 - The Puppeteer & The Bell

He felt the attack in his bones. He had never faced an attack with this level of sheer force behind it. Every bone in his forearms throbbed with sharp pain. He was not sure if he would have survived a direct hit from that even with his peak rank 6 body cultivation.

Yet Su Ming’s eyes remained completely focused. This was a rare opportunity to test his physical body and his sword techniques to their limits.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed himself up from the rubble. He circulated his Yin-Yang Origin Qi through his meridians as it instantly reduced the pain.

Footsteps echoed nearby, as a figure emerged from the fog, holding a blood-red sabre.

Chen Wuhen narrowed his eyes in surprise. "You survived that. Impressive."

A quiet rage filled his gaze as he looked at Su Ming.

"Master of White Lotus Peak... I didn’t think we would meet again so soon," Chen Wuhen said, gritting his teeth. "Fate must have arranged our meeting. Today, you will die by my hands."

Chen Wuhen gripped his sabre tighter, his aura flaring with suffocating dark energy.

"If only you had not meddled... if you had just handed over disciple Wang Tian and kept your nose out of my business..." Chen Wuhen stepped forward, his killing intent locking onto Su Ming. "Now, because of your stubborn arrogance, every single person who stepped onto this place today will be buried with you!"

"You speak too much." Su Ming lunged forward, his Crimson Heaven Sword thrusting straight toward Chen Wuhen’s chest.

***

Some distance away, violent shockwaves erupted across the basin.

The Nether-Abyss Tiger Demon’s flaming fist crashed straight into Lei Zhenwu’s halberd, sending shockwaves that flattened the surroundings. Molten crimson flames clashed violently with surging azure lightning, creating deafening roars that shook the valley.

***

With each strike, violent sparks rained down from the dark sky above the central valley.

*CLANG!*

Su Ming’s Crimson Heaven Sword collided with Chen Wuhen’s Blood Moon Sabre. The sheer impact sent shockwaves rippling across the air, tearing through the rising fog.

Su Ming felt the crushing weight behind the blow. His arms vibrated, forcing him back three steps through the air.

"Distracted in such a life-and-death battle? How naive!" Chen Wuhen sneered.

Chen Wuhen twisted his wrist. The Blood Moon Sabre traced a crimson arc, slashing toward Su Ming’s waist.

Su Ming leaned back mid-air and dodged the strike, but the crimson arc tore on, carving straight through the cliff behind him.

As he evaded, Su Ming looked down.

The grey mist was rising rapidly. ’It is not ordinary Yin mist...’

Through his Essence Sight, Su Ming caught the true nature of the fog. It was infused with the River Styx Water. The laws of death and decay circulated through the vapor, corroding spiritual sense and eating away the protective Qi on the elders.

Thanks to his Primordial Yang Sovereign Body Art and pure Yin-Yang Origin Qi, the decay could not penetrate his skin.

But the twenty punitive elders on the ground were in grave danger.

Their protective Qi shields sizzled under the mist. The acidic vapors ate away at their barriers, slowing down their movements.

Taking advantage of their weakened state, thousands of demonic cultivators, armored fiends, and jagged corpse puppets swarmed in. The elders were forced into a tight defensive circle, struggling desperately against the endless demonic tide.

Ding!

A clear, chilling bell chime echoed across the entire mountain valley.

The sound did not travel through the air. It struck directly into the soul.

A wave of hypnotic power crashed against Su Ming’s sea of consciousness like a tidal wave.

Inside his mind, the Void Dragon Soul let out a silent roar. The hypnotic mental wave shattered immediately, dissolving before it could even touch his thoughts.

A hundred paces away, Lei Zhenwu’s Saint realm cultivation flared with azure lightning as the Saint Halo appeared behind him, easily crushing the mental attack.

Yet for the twenty elders below, it was fatal.

Already weakened by the corrosive mist, their minds could not resist the soul attack. Their movements froze instantly. The light in their eyes faded as they were pushed into a state of trance.

On a distant stone ledge, a delicate woman in crimson robes smiled coldly as she gently shook a golden bell. It was Lady Tao wielding the Soul-Charming Bell.

On the other side, Puppeteer Yun Song let out a harsh laugh.

The towering eight-armed Quasi Saint Grade Yin-Flesh Puppet behind him took a step forward. The puppet’s joints creaked as thousands of black threads shot from its fingertips.

The threads pierced directly into the heads and meridians of the twenty tranced elders. With sickening cracks, the elders’ bodies jerked upward like marionettes. Their lifeless eyes turned toward Lei Zhenwu. Raising their swords, the twenty elders charged straight toward him.

"Elders, wake up!" Lei Zhenwu roared.

Lei Zhenwu swung his halberd, but his azure lightning halted mid-air. He gritted his teeth, forced to hold back his Saint-level power to avoid turning his own comrades into ash. The Tiger Demon seized the opening and hammered him with molten fist strikes.

Su Ming’s heart sank.

He tried to descend to sever the puppet threads, but a blood-red crescent Qi slash blocked his path.

"Where do you think you are looking?" Chen Wuhen mocked.

Chen Wuhen hovered before him, his sabre radiating with dark crimson energy.

"Do you see that, young Peak Master?" Chen Wuhen chuckled, his voice dripping with venom. "Your esteemed elders lost their composure for a single breath, and now they are nothing more than flesh puppets on my strings! This Black Crow Ridge Stronghold is our strongest base and you guys walked right into our trap! Hahaha! With the blood altar nourishing us and our vessels united, you all shall die here!"

Su Ming did not waste words. His Essence Sight burned brighter, locking onto Chen Wuhen’s physical frame.

He was already aware of this vessel. Chen Wuhen had once been the senior brother of the Sword Peak Master Jian, hailed as the most talented sword cultivator of his generation. Now, he was nothing more than a vessel for Demonic Ancestor Mo.

The sight made Su Ming’s pupils contract.

Beneath Chen Wuhen’s skin, his bones shone with a density unlike anything Su Ming had ever seen. Pitch-black yin energy leaked from them, radiating the cold aura of death.

’River Styx Water...’