Chapter 154 - Secrets of Chen Wuhen

The remnant arc descended straight for Su Ming’s head.

Su Ming gritted his teeth, executing the Cloud Chasing footwork at the absolute threshold of his physical limits. He twisted his torso mid-air, throwing himself backward.

Shhk!

The crescent slash grazed past his shoulder. His protective Qi shattered like glass. The razor-sharp wind tore through his robes, slicing a shallow line across his flesh and drawing a spray of crimson blood.

The lingering momentum slammed into Su Ming, throwing him downward.

Crash!

Su Ming landed heavily against the misty floor of the basin. The violent impact blasted the dense grey mist outward in a wide ring, scattering the fog away for a brief instant before the corrosive mist surged back toward him.

Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the stones, Su Ming drove the Dragon Emperor Sword into the ground to pick himself up. He flew into the sky to escape the fast-approaching mist.

Above the valley, Chen Wuhen lowered his sabre, looking down with cold mockery.

"You survived that?" Chen Wuhen chuckled with a greedy glow in his eyes. "Let us see how many cuts your flesh can endure. I advise you to surrender, Young Peak Master. You cannot win against me, and I would hate to damage my next vessel."

Su Ming wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. Instead of despair, a cold grin formed on his face.

’Found your weakness.’

***

Three hundred years ago, Chen Wuhen spearheaded one of the vanguards that fought against the demonic faction. In that brutal clash, he fell into an ambush and was pushed to the brink of death.

Demonic Ancestor Mo captured the dying genius alive. Rather than granting him death, the demonic ancestor subjected him to a ruthless soul search, ripping away every memory, sword comprehension, and sect secret sealed within his sea of consciousness.

Using demonic corpse-refining arts, Demonic Ancestor Mo turned the dying genius into his primary vessel, creating the Nine Shadows Nether-Fiend Body.

This was primarily due to the limitations of the Nine Seed Transference Art.

To create nine independent soul anchors across the continent, Demonic Ancestor Mo had to sever his own Nascent Soul, forever crippling his original body from advancing beyond the Nascent Soul Realm. His only path to greater power lay in possessing superior vessels. If a vessel was gifted enough, he could bypass the bottleneck and cultivate through the possessed body.

That made Chen Wuhen his greatest asset, as claiming such a monstrous genius was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So, instead of using the body as it is, he decided to make it better.

Decades of demonic refinement followed. The bone marrow was thoroughly steeped in drops of River Styx Primordial Water, while the original mortal blood was replaced by Nine-Turn Fiend Blood. This preserved Chen Wuhen’s Avatar-tier cultivation, turning the corpse’s skeleton as hard as a heavenly meteorite. The corpse possessed immense strength, near-zero movement friction, and an unnatural immunity to ordinary Qi attacks and flames. His body had long surpassed the physical limits of the Avatar Formation Realm, rivaling the resilience of the Saint Transformation Realm Cultivator.

High above the misty basin, Su Ming hovered with his two swords drawn as he activated Essence Sight.

Under its golden gaze, the physical shell faded.

Su Ming saw the turbid Styx water flowing through Chen Wuhen’s marrow.

The water carried the Dao of Return to Origin.

It did not extinguish spells through overwhelming force. Instead, it unmade them. The moment any structured Qi touched the turbid water, the technique decomposed and collapsed back into its purest essence. That was why even Su Ming’s sword Qi scattered against his aura without leaving a mark.

Yet, it was not flawless.

Through their chaotic flow of battle, Su Ming caught the subtle friction. Demonic Ancestor Mo was a demonic-path cultivator. Whenever he commanded the corpse to switch between demonic sabre slashes and the righteous Heaven Sundering Sword Technique, the conflicting energy pathways created a subtle delay of no more than half a breath.

On top of that, such an extreme Yin-type body tempered by the Styx River Water had one natural nemesis. It was Extreme Yang.

Above the basin, Chen Wuhen sneered, his pale fingers tightening around the Blood Moon Sabre. "What is the matter, Young Peak Master? Have you finally lost it?"

Su Ming did not reply. His aura flared as he stepped forward.

Wind roared around his boots as he surged across the sky. The Crimson Heaven Sword and the Dragon Emperor Sword struck simultaneously, tracing arcs of sword Qi in the air.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The two figures collided at terrifying speed.

Su Ming unleashed a furious barrage of strikes. Sparks exploded across the sky as the twin swords battered against the heavy Saint-grade blood sabre.

Chen Wuhen met every strike with his brute strength. Each swing of his sabre sent crushing shockwaves rippling through the air, rattling Su Ming to the bone.

"Useless struggles!" Chen Wuhen mocked, parrying a descending slash. "Your steel cannot cut through this ancestor’s Nine Shadows Nether-Fiend Body!"

Su Ming remained entirely silent. He did not back down. Instead, he pressed even closer, matching the sabre blow for blow to completely occupy Chen Wuhen’s vision and focus.

But secretly, behind Chen Wuhen, subtle ripples of Qi disturbed the air.

While locking the demonic ancestor’s attention in the front, Su Ming quietly circulated his Yin-Yang Origin Law. Pure Yang Origin Flames condensed into three floating sword shapes.

The phantom blades were small, yet they radiated the concentrated heat of pure solar flames.

Tiring of the endless clash, Chen Wuhen sneered. Kicking Su Ming in the chest, he sent him flying backward.

"Time to die, Young Peak Master!"

Chen Wuhen pulled his elbow back, lowering his stance to unleash the Heaven Sundering Sword Technique once more.

As expected, the shift in technique caused a half-breath delay in his internal meridians.

’Now.’

Su Ming’s eyes flashed with golden light. With a single thought, he released the sword manifestations.

Whoosh!

The three Yang flame sword manifestations shot forward from behind with blinding speed.

The sudden burst of solar heat scorched the air. Chen Wuhen’s ancient instincts screamed in warning. His eyes widened in shock as he felt the searing heat bearing down on his spine.

Chen Wuhen twisted his torso violently mid-air, attempting to dodge.

He moved fast, but the ambush struck him during that brief lag.

Ssssshk!