Chapter 22: The Traitor

Cangwu Secret Realm, Deadwood Ridge.

This was the boundary between the Rotten Bone Swamp and the Outer Forest.

Unlike the slippery mud of the swamp, Deadwood Ridge presented a deathly grey-white color. The ground was cracked, and countless dead ancient trees stretched toward the sky like ghost claws. The air was filled with a dry, stale scent. Occasionally, the wind blew, swirling the withered leaves on the ground with a rustling sound.

This dry environment was far more comfortable for a Fire Spirit Root cultivator like Yu Qingyao than the swamp.

“Stop.”

Wu Yan, who was leading the group, suddenly came to a halt and made a gesture to stay back.

Behind her, Gu Jian immediately held his giant sword across his chest, alertly scanning the surroundings. Yu Qingyao frowned slightly, the Crimson Talisman she held between her fingers emitting a faint wave of heat.

“Eldest Senior Sister?” An outer disciple swallowed nervously.

Wu Yan did not answer immediately. Instead, she turned slightly, her ink-colored eyes scanning the cluttered pile of rocks to the front right. Her voice was calm but left no room for doubt. “Qingyao, use the Flowing Fire Curse to scout. Force out whatever is behind those rocks.”

Yu Qingyao was stunned for a moment and instinctively wanted to argue. However, seeing Wu Yan’s eyes as calm as water, she swallowed the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

“Got it,” she muttered. With a flick of her fingers, a stream of red fire shot out like a spirit snake, lunging straight for the rock pile.

Boom!

The moment the flames touched the rocks, they erupted into a violent blaze, fueled by the dry wood nearby.

Almost at the same time, several startled Carrion Crows took flight with harsh caws. Immediately after, a few corners of tattered clothing were revealed behind the rock pile.

The group stepped forward and cleared away the still-burning dry branches.

“Hiss—” The disciples present gasped in unison.

Three corpses were piled there, their clothing identifying them as disciples of the nearby Iron Fist Sect. But their deaths were horrific—their entire bodies were as shriveled as dry wood, and their skin had a strange greenish-grey hue, as if every drop of blood in their bodies had been drained in an instant by some evil force.

“All essence blood is gone, and there are even signs of the Golden Cores being forcibly excavated.”

Wu Yan crouched down, ignoring the stench emanating from the corpses. She extended her slender fingers to examine the dantian of one of the bodies. There was a bloody, mangled hole there.

“It wasn’t a monster.”

Wu Yan stood up and took the handkerchief Yu Qingyao handed over to wipe her hands. She didn’t throw it away afterward but folded it neatly and tucked it into her sleeve. Her voice was cold. “Monsters eat humans mostly for food; they wouldn’t take only essence blood and internal cores. This is the work of a Demonic Cultivator.”

“A Demonic Cultivator?!”

Yu Qingyao’s expression changed drastically. She suddenly remembered the corroded restriction of the secret realm. As expected, there really was a demonic traitor within the sect.

“No defense is absolutely perfect.” Wu Yan turned around, her gaze becoming sharp.

“You two.” Wu Yan looked at the two outer disciples. “Your formation is too loose. If someone had ambushed us just now, you’d already be dead. Stay close to Gu Jian, and don’t get more than thirty feet away from me.”

Although her tone was stern, she shifted a step to the left, perfectly blocking a visual blind spot in front of Yu Qingyao.

Just then—

“Jie jie jie… I didn’t expect a broad from the Piaomiao Sect to have such sharp intuition.”

A sinister laugh seemed to come from all directions, echoing over Deadwood Ridge.

The withered leaves on the ground suddenly moved without any wind, and three black figures stripped away from the shadows of the dead trees like ghosts.

The leader was a tall man clad in a black robe embroidered with blood-colored skulls. He radiated a suffocating pressure—the fluctuations of the early Golden Core Stage! The two followers behind him also possessed the strength of the peak Foundation Establishment Stage!

Three Demonic Cultivators!

Gu Jian’s face paled, and the veins on the back of his hand holding the giant sword bulged. Although their side had more people, the only real combatants were Wu Yan and himself. Yu Qingyao had only recently entered the Foundation Establishment Stage; it would be asking too much to expect her to fight on the front lines now.

“Good luck.” The leading Demonic Cultivator licked his lips, his greedy eyes fixed on Wu Yan. “The Chief Disciple of the Piaomiao Sect… if I capture you and offer you to the Ancestor, it will be a great achievement.”

“Strike!”

The Demonic Cultivator didn’t waste any more breath. With a harsh shout, a pitch-black Soul Gathering Banner appeared in his hand. With a violent wave, countless vengeful spirits and ghosts shrieked as they lunged at the group.

“Gu Jian, protect the junior brothers! Qingyao, release the fire!”

Wu Yan’s voice was frighteningly calm, without a trace of panic.

“Right!”

In this dry Deadwood Ridge, Yu Qingyao’s fire-attribute arts had a natural advantage. She gave a sharp cry, her hands forming seals as the spiritual energy in her body circulated frantically.

“Blazing Prairie Fire!”

Boom—!

With her as the center, red flames erupted instantly, transforming into a massive wall of fire that scorched the lunging vengeful spirits until they sizzled and wailed.

“Trivial tricks!” The early Golden Core Stage leader snorted coldly. The black chi on the Soul Gathering Banner surged, forcefully suppressing the fire. Then, his body flickered, turning into a plume of black smoke aiming straight for Wu Yan!

To capture the group, he would strike the leader first!

“Eldest Senior Sister, watch out!” Gu Jian cried out, wanting to provide support, but he was pinned down by the other two Demonic Cultivators.

Facing the terrifying demonic pressure rushing toward her, Wu Yan stood in place, her white clothes as pristine as snow, unmoving.

From deep within her, a seductive voice spoke with a hint of disdain: “Tsk, using such low-grade Ghost Shadow Step to show off before me? Little Wu Yan, move three inches to the left, strike the Xuanji Acupoint with your sword, and cripple him.”

Wu Yan’s dark pupils constricted slightly. The long sword in her hand did not leave its sheath; instead, she used the sheathed sword to strike out at a very tricky and ungraceful angle toward the empty space on the left.

It looked like a random strike, yet it accurately predicted the landing point of that mass of black smoke.

“Bang!”

A muffled thud echoed.

The Demonic Cultivator leader’s supposedly certain grab actually slammed right into the tip of Wu Yan’s scabbard. Moreover, it struck the critical junction of his Demonic Chi circulation—the Xuanji Acupoint!

“Puff—” The leader felt his Demonic Chi recoil. He nearly spat out a mouthful of blood as his figure was forced to manifest, stumbling backward.

“You… how could you possibly see through my movement technique?!” He was terrified.

Wu Yan did not answer, her eyes as cold as ice.

“Qingyao, back left, Exploding Flame Art!” she suddenly shouted.

Yu Qingyao, who was struggling with a Demonic Cultivator, had no time to think. She swung her hand and threw a massive fireball toward the back left.

Boom!

With the environmental boost, even though Yu Qingyao’s current cultivation wasn’t very high, her technique still proved quite effective. The Demonic Cultivator who was about to ambush her was hit squarely in the face by the fireball, flying backward with a scream as raging flames engulfed his body.

“Well done,” Wu Yan evaluated briefly before her figure surged forward.

Taking advantage of the moment the leader’s Demonic Chi was in flux, she no longer held back.

“Piaomiao Sword Arts, Startling Swan.”

The long sword finally left its sheath.

There was no earth-shattering Sword Chi, only a streak of cold light that was fast and pure to the extreme.

The Demonic Cultivator leader tried to summon a defensive treasure, but he found his movements a half-beat too slow.

Squelch.

The sword light flashed, and a large head flew high into the air, eyes still filled with unbelievable terror.

A Golden Core Demonic Cultivator, killed in a single strike to the throat.

Seeing this, the last remaining Demonic Cultivator was scared out of his wits and turned to flee.

“Gu Jian, stop him.” Wu Yan sheathed her sword, her tone flat.

Gu Jian, who had been waiting for the chance, roared. The giant sword, shaped like a door plank, slammed down with ten thousand pounds of force, crushing the Demonic Cultivator into the dirt, his fate unknown.

The battle ended extremely quickly.

Yu Qingyao panted heavily, looking at the white-clad woman standing quietly by the corpses, wiping her blade. A storm of shock surged in her heart.

In this life, Wu Yan shouldn’t have started practicing Demonic Arts yet. How could she be this strong?

“Qingyao.” Having finished with the bodies, Wu Yan walked over.

Yu Qingyao’s body stiffened, and she instinctively stood straight. “I… my reaction was slow just now.”

Wu Yan looked at her small face, which was smudged black from the smoke and fire, and her originally cold eyes softened slightly. She raised her hand, intending to help Yu Qingyao tidy her messy hair, but suddenly remembering something, she pulled her hand back.

“As long as you’re okay.”

Wu Yan turned around, her back to the group, tightly clutching a token she had just retrieved from the leader’s body. The token was engraved with special formation patterns. Although Wu Yan wasn’t an expert in formations, she could still see some clues on it.

A traitor.

Wu Yan’s heart sank.