Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1220 - Lesser of Two Evils
Chapter 1220 – Lesser of Two Evils
Liu Wuxie slew Deng Huaiguang to make an example of him. He wanted to intimidate the rest and secure his footing in the Outer Sect once and for all.
He had a deeper goal. He deliberately unleashed the Heaven-Severing Strike to draw the eyes of the Heavenly Dragon Sect’s upper echelons, and he succeeded, as many had already begun making their way to the Outer Sect’s martial field.
He had not anticipated the Heaven-Severing Strike’s surge. The technique spiraled beyond his control, and the backlash tore through him. Worse, the Heretic Blade hit its limit; cracks resembling a spiderweb spread across its surface as it teetered on the brink of destruction, unable to contain the strike’s profundity.
With a single blow, Liu Wuxie cleaved Deng Huaiguang apart. In that instant, he violated the sect’s rules in full view of all by openly killing an inner disciple.
Hissing gasps swept the field as disciples stared at what remained of Deng Huaiguang. He was a prodigious inner disciple with exceptional talent, yet Liu Wuxie had cut him down without hesitation.
Even the distant elders stood dumbstruck, unable to comprehend what they had witnessed.
Without pause, Liu Wuxie took Deng Huaiguang’s interspatial rings and drew the energies and laws from his corpse to strengthen the desolate world within. The effort left him trembling. Blood sprayed from his lips, and his face paled. He was not feigning weakness; the Heaven-Severing Strike had drained every shred of his true essence.
True essence would recover with time, but the toll on his body ran deeper. His True Dragon Physique hit a bottleneck and could not withstand such backlash. To progress, he needed either more divine-dragon remains to refine or a specialized cultivation method for the True Dragon Physique.
He possessed no such technique in his memory. Instinct remained his only path, just as when he refined the divine dragon’s bones.
The stronger the strike, the greater the strain. Fortunately, he had cultivated the Panwu Divine Art; without it, the Heaven-Severing Strike’s backlash would have pulverized him to dust.
Seeing his weakened state, faint smiles spread across many faces.
“He’s ruthless,” several inner disciples murmured. “He even uses a technique that harms his own body.”
The Heaven-Severing Strike still shook them after they witnessed it.
“He’s too foolish,” a female disciple said coldly. “That kind of injury won’t heal easily. It will cripple his future.”
The Inner and Outer Sects’ disciples alike noticed the flaw in his attack. Though overwhelming, it exacted a price too steep even for him.
“Strange… why haven’t the elders intervened to punish him?” the Outer Sect disciples whispered, confused.
According to the sect’s rules, the sect ought to punish those who had murdered a fellow disciple. Yet the elders still stood at a distance, indifferent, as if nothing had happened.
“How could he escape punishment?” sneered a War Dragon Institute veteran. “They just don’t know how to punish him yet.”
He was right: throughout the sect’s long history, no outer disciple had ever slain an inner disciple. The elders themselves seemed uncertain what to do.
Ignoring the whispers, Liu Wuxie swallowed several fifth-grade spiritual pills. They steadied his condition and restored color to his cheeks. However, the Heretic Blade’s cracked surface made his chest tighten. Another Heaven-Severing Strike would shatter it. Only by upgrading it to match his Transcendent-Realm cultivation could he wield it safely.
“The auction continues,” Liu Wuxie declared, sweeping a cold gaze across the crowd. Killing Deng Huaiguang did not end the auction.
Jiang Shanyue’s grin widened. Against all odds, he still had a chance to secure a Wisdom Stone. The bidding had reached one million; if no one else stepped in, the second stone would be his.
“One million one hundred thousand!” A sudden voice shattered his joy. Jiang Shanyue felt as if he had plummeted from heaven to hell.
Lan Zilin had claimed the first stone, and just as the second neared his grasp, another bidder emerged.
“Who is it? Who dares oppose me?” he roared, glaring wildly around.
“Are you questioning me?” A disciple at the second-level Transcendent Realm stepped forward, his aura easily surpassing Jiang Shanyue’s.
“S-Senior Brother Li, I wouldn’t dare!” Jiang Shanyue stammered, paling at the sight of the speaker.
Snickers rippled through the crowd at his rotten luck.
In the end, Senior Brother Li won the second Wisdom Stone. Only one remained.
Jiang Shanyue scanned the crowd, tense, checking that no higher-realm cultivators lurked among them. His heart eased slightly.
“The last Wisdom Stone starts at five hundred thousand astral stones, with each bid rising by no less than one hundred thousand,” Liu Wuxie announced, raising the increments. He was no saint; his purpose was to extract as much wealth as possible for cultivation.
“One million!” Jiang Shanyue bellowed, jumping straight to the limit of his purse. Those with only eight hundred thousand bowed out, unable to compete. At last, he sighed with relief.
“One million one hundred thousand!” The call rang out again, crushing his hope to dust: this time, a new disciple at the pinnacle of the Transcendent Realm bid.
Even Liu Wuxie raised a brow. New disciples were rarely this wealthy unless someone powerful backed them.
“Brat, you dare snatch from me? Are you tired of living?!” Jiang Shanyue roared. Seeing the bidder’s cultivation twisted his face with rage. To be challenged by someone at the Transcendent Realm humiliated him, and he looked ready to tear the youth apart.
“You can keep raising the bid if you can afford it,” the new disciple smirked, dismissing him outright. Everyone knew Jiang Shanyue had only one million; he could not go higher.
“Fuck you! You’re doing this on purpose! I’ll kill you where you stand!” Jiang Shanyue snapped, losing all reason. If he failed to obtain a Wisdom Stone, others would soon surpass him, a fate he could not bear.
“Why don’t you try touching him?” A cold voice cut through the air as several youths in purple robes strode forward, their presence radiating authority.
“Big Brother!” The new disciple ran to the leader.
“B-Big Brother?” Jiang Shanyue froze, his face ashen. Now it made sense: the new disciple’s wealth came from his elder brother, an inner disciple.
After selling the third Wisdom Stone, the auction concluded, yet the crowd lingered. Everyone knew Liu Wuxie still held many Wisdom Stones, but none dared move against him; after all, he had slain a seventh-level Origin Conversion inner disciple.
The three stones fetched over three million astral stones. Together with the wealth he plundered from Deng Huaiguang’s interspatial rings, Liu Wuxie’s fortune surpassed four million, richer than many at the lower levels of the Primal Origin Realm.
“He’s filthy rich now. Even I’m tempted to rob him,” muttered a Primal Origin Realm elder. More than four million astral stones, over eighty Wisdom Stones, and a heaven-defying blade technique—any one of these would provoke envy, even from elders.
Liu Wuxie quickly led He Yingwu away, enduring countless hungry stares. By now, He Yingwu had transferred to the Heavenly Martial Institute under Liu Wuxie’s leadership.
“That was really close,” He Yingwu admitted, shivering at the memory of what nearly unfolded.
But Liu Wuxie remained calm. Aside from minor injuries, he was fine. After refining the corpse of a seventh-level Origin Conversion cultivator, he had already restored his true essence.
“Wuxie, will the sect punish you for killing an inner disciple?” He Yingwu asked quietly, only now grasping the gravity of the violation.
“They will,” Liu Wuxie replied without hesitation. He had already foreseen it. The sect would punish him, but he had no choice. If he hadn’t killed Deng Huaiguang, he would have died.
Against Deng Huaiguang’s strength, the Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms wouldn’t have been enough. The Great Frost Mythical Art covered too wide an area and lacked the Heaven-Severing Strike’s lethality. At best, he would have dragged Deng Huaiguang down with him. If he had used Soul Fire, Deng Huiaiguang would have died even more miserably, but the cost would have been too great.
He chose the lesser of two evils. By killing Deng Huaiguang outright, he resolved the crisis and avoided crippling injuries. He knew the Outer Sect was full of wolves; had he shown weakness or suffered grave wounds, they would have torn him apart within a day.
Instead, he cowed them with the Heaven-Severing Strike. For now, no one would dare provoke him. He had calculated everything from the start, including the aftermath. He expected punishment, but as long as he remained whole, he still had room to maneuver.
If he suffered serious injuries, neither He Yingwu nor Elder Ding could protect him.
He Yingwu understood and looked at him with newfound respect.
“You stay here. I’ll visit Elder Ding,” Liu Wuxie said. Elder Ding was the only one he trusted in the outer sect, and there were matters to discuss.
“Alright.” He Yingwu nodded and remained in the courtyard.
Liu Wuxie hurried to Elder Ding’s residence, finding it after a few inquiries. Elder Ding, unsurprised by his arrival, seemed to have anticipated him.
“I’ve prepared the tea. Come, have a seat,” Elder Ding said. A pot of fragrant tea steamed on the stone table, releasing a refreshing aroma.
Liu Wuxie sat and drank without ceremony. The fragrance slid down his throat and seemed to transform into streams of energy that flowed through his body, soothing his wounds.
“Thank you, Elder Ding,” Liu Wuxie said, lowering the cup. He hadn’t expected such healing effects from tea.
“This is Jade Blossom Dew,” Elder Ding explained. “The Heavenly Dragon Sect cultivates this tea exclusively. I’ve saved a little over the years and have only drunk it three times myself.”
Liu Wuxie felt his injuries easing and his breathing lightening as warmth spread throughout him.
