Deep within the Drifting Eyebrow Garden.
Blazing flames roared.
After Cheng Yunpao retreated, the "clanging" sounds still echoed incessantly.
Amid the inferno, a figure clad in black monk robes, with white hair cascading down, wielded a sword to slash through the nets—it was Pu Zhu.
He had already cut through seventeen or eighteen nets; this was the last one.
The surrounding temperature had risen so high that his long hair had scorched and his robes caught fire. Thick smoke billowed upward with the wind—an ordinary person would have suffocated long ago. But Pu Zhu was no ordinary man.
He was exceedingly patient.
With a resounding "clang," the final iron net fell beneath his blade.
At last, he stepped into the lowest level of the Fengliudian.
Before him stretched a sea of fire, the flames burning to their limit before finally dying out.
Amid the ashes lay countless horrifying and tragic remains.
Charred corpses sprawled deep within the embers, the ground littered with melted weapons. The ceiling was studded with hidden traps. A massive pit had been dug beneath, its floor layered with multiple iron nets, beneath which lay the stacked firewood.
Bai Suche had excavated a deep pit beneath Yu Konghou's grand hall, filling it with wormwood and bitter admonition seeds to exterminate insects, using oil-soaked charcoal as fuel. She then laid fine steel nets over the ground and piled bricks and stones atop them.
She had turned Yu Konghou's grand hall into a roasting furnace.
With a flick of his sword, Pu Zhu sifted through the charred remains, unable to distinguish Bai Suche from Wang Lingze. Yet his throat burned, and he detected an unusual fragrance here—the scent of "food."
The poison of "Queen Bee Congealed Frost" was taking effect, reminding him that amidst these scorched corpses, there was still "food."
Pu Zhu closed his eyes, relying on his sense of smell to inhale lightly, then reopened them—his sword pressed against someone's chest.
The person's hair had burned away, their face unrecognizable, flesh torn and mangled, their body emaciated like a skeleton. Were it not for their slight movements, they would truly resemble a living ghost.
Yet Pu Zhu's sword remained steady against their chest as he asked calmly, "Benefactor Tao?"
The living ghost chuckled softly, emitting a guttural "gurgle." Even their throat had been burned away, yet they still lived—it was Yu Konghou. He laughed at the heavens for sparing him. Tang Lizhi had thrown him into the fiery pit, but the flames had soon died out. Tang Lizhi had assumed he would be trapped and burned to death, yet this monk had opened a path to survival!
Pu Zhu pushed the tip of his sword forward. "Benefactor Bai sacrificed herself to vanquish demons—pitiable yet admirable. But the 'demons' are dead, while you remain." He could smell the tantalizing aroma of food emanating from Yu Konghou. "What did you gain from these corpses?"
Yu Konghou smiled soundlessly—what had he gained?
He couldn't speak, or else he would have laughed aloud to proclaim to the world—that wretched slave Bai Suche dared to seize his power, forced him to kneel, and sought his life! She would die a cruel and violent death one day! Just like now, look at her—burned to ashes! She turned to ashes! And he had obtained the secret of immortality!
That wretched slave sought to perish together with Wang Lingze—had he not suddenly intervened to extract the Gu King from Wang Lingze's body, she might have died long ago at Wang Lingze's hands, instead of lying in the ashes as a ghost alongside that old hag!
He had devoured the Gu King—now he was the King, and he would not die.
Even if Tang Lizhi forced him, tried to kill him, hurled him from the heights, and sought to burn him to ashes—he would not die!
He glared venomously at Pu Zhu, devoid of the gentleness, composure, and cleverness he had once displayed as Xifang Tao.Pu Zhu was no longer the straightforward and carefree sword monk of the past. Just as Yu Konghou was about to burst into laughter again, Pu Zhu swiftly thrust his sword into the skeletal dantian of Yu Konghou.
With a flick of his blade, a bloodied black grotesque worm was flung into the air, plucked straight from Yu Konghou’s dantian. Yu Konghou’s laughter froze instantly, his voice choked—unable to scream, though he surely would have. That was his Gu King!
His only hope for survival!
His…
Pu Zhu swallowed the Gu King whole, then turned back expressionlessly, gazing coldly at Yu Konghou.
Clutching the wound in his dantian, Yu Konghou stared at Pu Zhu in utter horror.
This monk had gone mad… He had actually stolen the Gu King…
Pu Zhu swung his sword once more, severing Yu Konghou’s head without hesitation.
Before the head even hit the ground, Pu Zhu turned and walked away.
He had drifted far into the distance when, behind him, a dull thud finally sounded—Yu Konghou’s corpse collapsing to the earth, buried alongside Fengliudian.
Chai Xijin no longer employed the drum-sound assassination technique. Unable to withstand Fu Zhumei’s long song, he abandoned this peerless skill altogether. But his war chariot had arrived, and he was determined to win this battle.
The original strategy of Tianqing Temple had seemed sound to him.
The blood debt of Baiyun Gou would be repaid in blood.
Moreover, with Wang Lingze’s aid, the hereditary poison arts of the "Hudeng Order" were bizarre and unpredictable, akin to corpse-controlling sorcery.
Whether he ultimately ascended the throne or not, the more soldiers who had slaughtered Baiyun Gou died, the better… the better.
Behind him, countless vengeful spirits wailed—they… needed sacrifices.
His gaze fixed on Yang Guihua’s infantry division, the very imperial troops Zhao Zongjing had led to ravage Baiyun Gou.
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