Senior sister, I'm going to control you.

Chapter 58 The Power of the Heavenly Sword Sect

Blood Spirit Sect, outer perimeter.

Li Tianran crouched down behind the pile of rocks, placing the meteorite spear horizontally on his lap.

From here, you can see a panoramic view of the area outside the mountain gate.

The Heavenly Sword Sect's sword formation is already in place.

Dozens of disciples at the eighth or ninth level of Qi Refining stood in three rows, their swords at their waists reflecting a cold light.

Someone in the back row was secretly fidgeting with their ankles, while those in the front row remained completely still.

Three Foundation Establishment elders stood on a makeshift command platform, facing the direction of the mountain gate.

"Three," he said softly.

Zhao Ling leaned against the mine wall next to him. Her face looked a little better than when she was in the black market, but her lips were still pale.

She followed his gaze and glanced at the sword formation outside the mountain gate, her tone grave.

"Two peak mid-Foundation Establishment cultivators. One second-tier formation master. The Blood Spirit Sect can't withstand this."

Li Tianran did not respond.

He walked and listened the whole way through the Rift Valley black market.

Elder Chen killed countless bandits in Black Wind Mountain, and uprooted the secret passages within three months. Twenty years ago, he killed a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator with a single sword strike while the cultivator was still in the early Foundation Establishment stage.

Elder Zhou's sword intent had been nurtured in the sheath for decades, and every time he drew his sword, it was a full-force strike.

A second-tier array master can break the gray fog array by himself.

He had heard these names among the blood slaves; each one was a ruthless character capable of single-handedly supporting a small sect.

They're all here today.

He mentally went over these thoughts again and again, but couldn't come up with any way to turn the tide.

Han Laomo's puppet is not yet finished, Ma Rou's poisonous beast cannot withstand the sword of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, and Wang Yin seems to know nothing but alchemy.

The three stewards each had their own duties, which were clearly stated in the sect rules, and none of them overstepped their boundaries.

They couldn't even put together a unified mountain-protecting formation.

Faced with such a powerful lineup, he couldn't think of any way to turn the tide.

"After the formation is broken, the Heavenly Sword Sect will target Old Demon Han first. Two peak Foundation Establishment stage cultivators against one, she won't last long."

Ma Rou's poisonous mist can hold back the formation masters, and Wang Yin won't come down for a while, leaving an opening at the side and rear of the cave.

Zhao Ling paused for a moment, then asked, "You're going?"

"The complete solution is in the secret room. If I don't go, the Bloodlust will take my life sooner or later."

"Take advantage of her fight with the Heavenly Sword Sect, grab the Blood Transformation Manual, and leave. If you can't get it, then we'll make other plans."

Zhao Ling didn't say anything else, but simply placed the short knife across her lap, her fingers resting on the hilt.

The first muffled thud came from the direction of the mountain gate, like someone smashing a giant hammer onto an iron plate.

Then came the second and third sounds.

The intervals became shorter and shorter, until they became so dense that they formed a continuous mass.

The protective array was trembling, and the gray fog was convulsing.

The second-tier array master, along with his six disciples, nailed down six array flags. The spiritual energy circulation paths glowed faintly in the mist, like six nails driven into the spine of a wild beast.

On the command platform, Elder Zhou frowned.

He pressed his thumb against the hilt and pushed the sword out half an inch, the gleam of the blade leaking out from the gap in the scabbard.

"It's too quiet. There's not even a gatekeeper?"

Elder Chen stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the mountain gate, his tone neither warm nor cold.

"The three women each have their own agendas, and none of them usually give in to the others. Quiet? That's because no one dares to come out."

He paused, his thumb tracing the patterns on the broadsword's scabbard, which had begun to glow faintly.

"Han Li's puppet is not yet complete, and what she fears most right now is us."

"Afraid?" Elder Zhou pushed the sword back. "Old Chen, you've dealt with her before, when have you ever been afraid?"

"She wasn't afraid twenty years ago because she had cards to play."

Elder Chen glanced at him sideways: "The puppet isn't finished yet, and her little blood-drawing technique is no match for you and me."

"What, you've been sheathing your sword for decades, are you afraid of a piece of unfinished material?"

Elder Zhou did not respond to that.

He simply said, "I'm not afraid of her, but you shouldn't underestimate her either."

He turned his head and continued looking towards the mountain gate, his thumb pressing against the sword guard again.

A level-two array master chimed in, "The Gray Mist Array is already 60% complete. Ten more breaths."

Elder Chen took half a step forward, the sound waves crashing over the stone steps of the mountain gate.

"Han Li! Come out and face your death! I'll spare your life, leaving you with a whole corpse!"

"From this day forward, the Blood Spirit Sect is erased from the Eastern Region, and the Heavenly Sword Sect's Sword Stele shall be erected here!"

No one responded.

The Blood Spirit Sect's mountain gate was tightly closed, and the air above the stone steps was deafening.

The Black Wind Mountain scout, perched on a withered tree outside the mountain gate, shouted at the top of his lungs, "See that? Not a single one is willing to fight! Old Demon Han has chickened out!"

The old woman carrying a bamboo basket chimed in, "Weren't you usually so tough? All that talk about skinning people alive to make drumheads, extracting souls to create corpse puppets—but when it really came down to it, you all cowered!"

"nonsense."

The old rogue cultivator tapped his pipe against a stone. "Who is Elder Chen? He's the one who personally beheaded the old chieftain of Black Wind Mountain."

"Old Demon Han's puppet isn't even finished yet, what can he use to block it? His head?"

Less than ten breaths later.

The formation was broken.

The Blood Spirit Sect's gray mist formation tore open in the middle, and rolled inwards like charred paper.

Under the strangulation of the six array flags, the entire array collapsed inch by inch.

The gray fog dissipated.

The dark red spiritual fields of Blood Burial Plains, exposed to the morning light, resembled a pool of congealed blood.

"Kill!" The disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect surged into the mountain gate.

The sword cultivator at the ninth level of Qi Refining, who was at the forefront, kicked open the mountain gate and found that there was no ambush inside.

They roared excitedly, "There's not a single one who can fight!"

Behind him, more than twenty fellow disciples split into two groups and rushed towards Bloodfang Valley and the heart of Blood Burial Plains.

Several outer disciples of the Blood Spirit Sect were swept away by sword energy before they could even form a formation, crashing onto the stone steps and splattering blood all over the wall.

A disciple with his arm severed dragged his stump and desperately crawled toward the spirit field, leaving a long trail of blood on the ridge. Only after a pursuer struck him in the back did his body stop moving.

Li Tianran didn't even raise an eyebrow.

He'd seen it too many times.

It's just that in the past, it was the blood slaves who were killed; now it's the turn of those who stand on top of the blood slaves.

Less than half a cup of tea's time had passed after breaking through the formation.

There was finally some movement in the direction of the cave.

A Foundation Establishment puppet rushed out first.

Its entire body was pitch black, and the dark red patterns on its limbs shone brightly in the sword light.

It crashed into the most densely populated area of ​​the Heavenly Sword Sect disciples, swatting away two Qi Refining Level 8 cultivators with a single claw, splattering blood all over the surrounding people.

A gray figure slowly walked out of the cave and stood on the stone platform.

His thin figure was wrapped in an unchanging gray robe, the hem of which fluttered in the morning breeze.

Han Li glanced at the three Foundation Establishment elders, then raised her hand to smooth her gray hair: "Three? That's enough."

Elder Chen narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had seen too many evil cultivators trying to show off their strength on their deathbeds; the closer someone was to dying, the more they liked to boast.

He slowly drew his broadsword; the patterns on the scabbard were already dazzlingly bright.

"You've outlived your broken puppet by half a cup of tea."

The broadsword was drawn.

The sword intent of the peak mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator exploded, and sword energy slashed down from mid-air.

Han Laomo raised his eyelids to look at him.

The look in his eyes wasn't like he was looking at a sword cultivator at the peak of the mid-Foundation Establishment stage, but rather like he was looking at a piece of merchandise that had just been delivered to his door.

"Elder Chen, twenty years ago you were suppressing bandits in Black Wind Mountain and killed the old chief of Black Wind Mountain."

The glory of that sword strike remains vivid in my memory to this day.

She paused for a moment: "But that was twenty years ago."

Today you've come to my Blood Burial Plain with quite a few people, and your entourage is impressive. Unfortunately, things won't go as you wish today.

Elder Chen curled his lip slightly: "With your unfinished piece of trash? Han Li, you weren't the type to talk big before."

"The past is the past; you weren't standing on my stone platform back then."

Elder Chen stopped wasting words.

The broadsword slashed down!

The puppet stood in front of Han Laomo, its arms taking the brunt of the sword strike. A gash was torn open in the pattern on its chest, and fragments flew out.

Old Demon Han looked down at the crack, his face showing displeasure.

"I will remember this sword strike."

"You talk too much nonsense!"

Elder Chen's sword momentum surged again, heavier and faster than before, his broadsword unleashing three consecutive slashes, each more ferocious than the last.

"Write it down? What's the use of writing it down! Your puppet is almost broken, and you still want to remember it!"