Chapter 389: Clasped Palms

Fu Juemin’s appearance in the vast Pill Chamber Hall was like a small stone gently tossed into water.

But before even a few ripples could form, they were brutally smoothed away!

An indescribable, formless aura filled the entire hall. The atmosphere was incredibly oppressive, as if the very air was about to solidify.

The hall fell silent. The only sound was from the mangled form of Hong Huan lying on the ground, twitching and letting out strange “TSK TSK” sounds that were somewhere between an exhale and a laugh.

“Go on, tell me. What else did you want to do?”

Fu Juemin took a step forward, speaking to Wei Jie with a smile.

Beads of sweat dripped down Wei Jie’s forehead. He stared at the handsome, smiling face before him, a face devoid of any killing intent or anger.

It was so ordinary, as if he were genuinely curious about the unfinished sentence from moments ago.

And yet, this normalcy was a hundred times more terrifying than any ferocious expression.

“SWOOSH!!”

The sound of several figures cutting through the air momentarily drew the man’s attention away.

Wei Jie seized the opportunity to fly backward, not stopping until he reached what he considered a safe distance. Only then did he slap a hand to his chest, pressing down on a heart that felt like it was about to explode from the tension.

“HUFF—HUFF—!”

He gasped for air, his expression grim as he looked ahead.

He saw Fu Juemin, surrounded and under attack by a group of Martial Tributors, merely lift his gaze. Then, with a casual air, he thrust a palm in a certain direction.

The instant he moved, a large swath of air around him began to warp violently, making the very space he occupied seem utterly surreal.

Then, those “warps” compressed, forming ripples of faint, nearly transparent gold.

The air became as thick as glue. Fu Juemin’s palm gently pushed it forward. The motion was slow, the ripples spreading out…

“SPLAT!”

“SPLAT!!”

“SPLAT!!—”

Wherever the ripples passed, whether it was the Martial Tributors in mid-air or the dumbstruck Nine Banner Prodigals below… one by one, their bodies exploded like water balloons that had been squeezed too hard.

A single palm.

In the direction he had struck, not a single living person remained.

Extending from his feet to the world outside the Pill Hall, the ground was covered in radial splatters of bloody paste.

Wei Jie was stunned.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Yet Fu Juemin was still striking.

His movements were utterly casual, as if he were shooing away non-existent flies.

Every time his palm fell, an entire direction was cleared!

In the space of just a few breaths, the number of people in the hall had plummeted…

“This…”

Wei Jie watched helplessly as his subordinates were swatted to death one by one. His face turned ashen once more, and he retreated step by stiff step.

Those lucky enough to have survived were now scared witless.

What could be more terrifying than watching your companions be swatted out of the air like insects, one by one, and reduced to a bloody pulp?

They could only scramble and crawl, scattering in all directions for their very lives.

In the hall, thick with the stench of blood and stale Elixirs, the only sounds were flesh exploding and a strange “hehehe…” laugh.

It was Hong Huan, laughing.

His bloodstained chest heaved up and down like a broken bellows, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

In that moment, his laughter sounded bizarre and grating, spreading an unspeakable terror silently through the air.

Just then, a figure reappeared!

“Master Mao!”

Seeing this person, Wei Jie and the remaining Nine Banner Youth looked as if they were drowning men clutching at straws. Hope rekindled in their eyes.

The Elder Deer Horn, who had been casually swatted away by Fu Juemin earlier, returned to the hall.

His expression was calm. There were no signs of injury on him, only a few wrinkles in his clothes.

He now exuded a powerful and inexplicable aura. The deer horns on his forehead seemed to have grown longer, the braid at the back of his head floated without any wind, and his posture grew increasingly inhuman.

“It has been a long time… since any ‘person’ has left me in such a sorry state.”

the Elder Deer Horn said faintly.

As he spoke, invisible ripples spread from behind him, conjuring a desolate, cold scene that wavered between reality and illusion.

Snowflakes began to drift through the sealed mausoleum. A bone-chilling cold spread as hazy images of a past dynasty’s imperial court unfolded, ephemeral as flowers in a mirror or the moon on water.

Beneath the accumulating ripples, the entire vast Pill Hall grew hazy.

The Elder Deer Horn’s feet left the ground, his figure merging with the indiscernible Heart Scene. Looking down from on high, he pressed a palm forward with feather-light grace!

“Old Snow Courtyard!”

As his palm pressed down, the endless snowstorm intensified, and the empty courtyard trembled.

In an instant, a terrifying, unified Momentum took shape, ruthlessly bearing down on Fu Juemin below.

Fu Juemin had only just begun to raise his head when he was completely enveloped and swallowed by the terrifying scene and its Palm Momentum.

“RUMBLE!!!”

The entire Pill Hall trembled and shook. It seemed as if the force of this palm were pulling on the very ley lines of the earth around the mausoleum.

The light from the Luminous Pearls on the ceiling flickered erratically as debris and dust rained down…

“Master Mao!”

Faced with such terrifying might, Wei Jie and the others retreated, but their faces showed a long-lost excitement and joy.

“You’re still laughing?!”

Perhaps annoyed and ashamed of his earlier fearful retreat, one of the Nine Banner Youth lunged toward Hong Huan, his face savage as he viciously kicked Hong Huan in the chest!

“PFFT—!”

Hong Huan spat out a mouthful of foul blood, his expression pained, yet the laughter coming from his mouth grew even louder.

“Ha… Ha—”

Amidst the laughter, a tremendous “RRRRIP!” echoed, like the sound of tearing silk.

Wei Jie and the others turned their heads in horror.

They saw the image of the “Old Snow Courtyard,” which covered most of the Pill Chamber Hall’s dome, suddenly get ripped open from within by a formless power!

“BOOM!!”

The Elder Deer Horn, hovering in mid-air, felt his aura crumble like an avalanche.

Before he could react, his entire body was trapped like an insect between a pair of tangible, golden Buddha Palms closing in prayer.

“CLAP!—SLAM!”

Immediately after, a magnificent and brilliant Dharma Form slowly revealed itself from within the spreading ripples.

Four faces, eight arms, three layers of Dharma Wheels, the twin wings of a Demon Buddha…

Fu Juemin stood calmly beneath the Dharma Form. He and the handsome Desire Realm Celestial Prince Form at its center, a faint smile on its lips, gazed coolly at Wei Jie and the others.

As that gaze fell upon them, Wei Jie and the others couldn’t stop trembling. Just as they thought to retreat, they heard…

“CRACK CRACK CRACK—”

From within the clasped palms of the Demonic Buddha Dharma Form, the cracking sounds of a struggle suddenly emerged.

It seemed there was a figure inside, struggling to force the Buddha Palms open, bit by bit…

Wei Jie and the others saw this clearly, and a glimmer of hope bloomed in their eyes.

But in the next second, Fu Juemin, standing beneath the Dharma Form, lifted his eyelids slightly…

“BOOM!”

“BOOM!”

“BOOM!”

Another six large hands slammed shut!

With three muffled thuds, all eight arms came together, unleashing one terrifying shockwave after another.

The faint sound of struggle…

…was instantly gone.