Chapter Seventy-One: The Teleportation Array

Chapter Seventy-One: The Teleportation Array

Chapter Eleven: In the Hidden Depths of Capital Forest, Seven Heroes Stir a Chaotic Spring and Autumn

All present saw the teleportation array burst into dazzling light, soon so brilliant they could not look directly at it. A pillar of radiance shot skyward, piercing the heavens. The entire firmament shuddered with its force. At the sound of a tremendous boom, awe forced everyone several steps back. When at last the column faded and the light gently dispersed, only the stone stele and the remnants of the array remained. Both Ye Hua and the demon creature had vanished, leaving the place empty and silent.

A faint cracking issued from the stone stele. Faces blanched as fine fissures spread across its surface. With a sharp sound, the stele shattered, crumbling into rubble.

Qingkai and Qingshi’s faces turned ashen. “If nothing befalls our youngest brother, all is well,” Qingshi murmured, “but if any mishap should occur…” The two dared not finish the thought.

Across the way, the Lady of Dreamcloud offered a distant smile. “So this is how it ends,” she said. “You need not worry. From what I observed, the array just now sent your young hero thousands of miles away—most likely eastward. You’d do well to search in that direction!”

With those words, the lady gathered her attendants, boarded their airship, and soared away into the void.

Qingshi hesitated, glancing at Qingkai. “Second Brother… is that girl friend or foe? How much truth lies in her words? If she deceives us, wouldn’t we be—”

Qingkai, understanding his meaning, could only sigh. “I know what troubles you, but her command of arrays is beyond doubt. Besides, we’ve no deep enmity with her. We have little choice but to trust her for now.”

Xie Liang pondered aloud, “If it’s east for thousands of miles, that leads to the Imperial Capital—a convergence of the realm’s heroes. But the capital is a sea of faces, a place of both dragons and serpents. Searching for one man there is like fishing for a needle in the ocean!”

Qingkai gazed eastward, where gauzy clouds drifted in the distance. After a long pause, he finally spoke: “Even so, we must go.” Turning back to the others—Qingshi, Ouyang Tai, and Li Yulin—he declared, “You three, return to the Northern Terrace. I will go to the capital alone and find our youngest brother.”

Qingshi was taken aback. “Brother, if you’re going to the capital, it’s best we all go together. The road is long and dangerous, and it’s always better to travel with allies.”

Qingkai considered, then nodded. “Very well—let us go together!”

Xie Liang smiled. “How could we brothers be absent from a journey to the capital?”

Ding Yubin stepped forward. “Indeed! My senior and I will accompany you. Besides, our master is currently in the capital—we can search for him as well!”

Qingkai hesitated only briefly, then declared, “So be it. I will not object further. Let’s rest for now and depart at dawn.”

Xie Liang laughed. “That suits me perfectly! Let us rest tonight at our Blissful Monastery—tomorrow we set out!”

Not long after, the group transformed into streaks of white light and vanished into the sky.

Ye Hua awoke to a dizzy, splitting pain and a body half-numb. Opening his eyes, he found himself surrounded by emerald green. Waterfalls cascaded at an angle, vines hung like curtains, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of mist. In the distance, peaks vied for beauty and ravines for grandeur—mountains as if painted in jade, veiled in gauzy clouds and smoky haze. It seemed he had been cast into a hidden valley.

Struggling to his feet, he realized he lay atop a stone platform. Crawling to the edge, he peered down and was immediately alarmed: beneath the platform, the demon bat remained unconscious. Cold sweat broke across Ye Hua’s brow. The bat twitched, about to awaken. In panic, Ye Hua gathered all his inner strength, forming a seal with his right hand. The Scarlet Crow Dagger burst into darkness, shooting straight at the bat’s head.

As the dagger flew, the demon bat opened its eyes. It saw the black light and, though still dazed from the teleportation, sensed danger. With a piercing screech, it jerked its head to the right, but not swiftly enough—a chill struck its right eye, followed by pitch darkness and searing pain. Panic gave way to fury as it struggled upright, beating its wings.

Ye Hua heard a sickening squelch—the Scarlet Crow Dagger had pierced the demon bat’s right eye, passing clean through. Before he could strike again, the bat, howling in agony, flailed into the air, blood streaming from one eye, the other burning with wrath.

The demon bat hovered for a time, then suddenly dove at a slant, claws outstretched. Ye Hua, too weak to evade, rolled aside with effort, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow, but his legs were seized by the bat’s talons. The creature snatched him up and sped away.

Pain seared through Ye Hua’s legs, setting his body trembling. He watched in horror as the bat hurtled toward a massive boulder atop a cliff, its surface bristling with sharp, uneven spires—stalagmites like giant swords, some long, some short. Realizing the bat meant to smash him upon the rocks, Ye Hua gritted his teeth, drew a deep breath, and, channeling all his strength, his hands glowed with golden light—sharp as blades—as he stabbed them into the bat’s belly.

A jolt of pain shot through the demon bat’s abdomen. Glancing down, it saw the youth’s hands plunged deep into its flesh, a great wound torn open in its core, its blood and vital force pouring out. Though it had suffered countless injuries before, never had it felt such terror. Knowing the human clinging to it was using some art, the bat desperately tried to shake Ye Hua off.

But the boulder loomed ahead, and in its panic to be rid of the youth, the bat failed to avoid the rock. With a dull thud, it crashed headlong, pain exploding through its body, vision reeling, its single eye swimming in blackness. Dizzy and battered, it plummeted downward.

Ye Hua clung to the bat, his hands still buried in its abdomen, feeling surges of heat flowing up his arms into his own body. He knew this sensation well—it was the effect of the Sixfold Mystical Harmony Technique. Ordinarily, he would have stopped at once, but with his life at stake, he dared not relent; every moment increased his odds of survival, and so he drove the technique ever faster.

Bound tightly to the bat, mountain winds scoured his face, and he felt their descent accelerate, then slow, then accelerate again, punctuated by the sound of rocks breaking. After several such jolts, their fall ended in a deafening crash. Ye Hua’s body shuddered violently, a metallic taste flooded his mouth, and blood trickled from his lips, his chest wracked with unspeakable pain.

He thought to himself, “It’s a blessing that the demon bat’s great size shielded me from the brunt of the force—fortune indeed, to escape with my life!” Looking up, he saw the bat, though still a formidable creature, now bleeding profusely, its body a mass of wounds.

The bat mustered its strength to look at Ye Hua, eyes filled with unwillingness. But its energy seemed utterly drained; even the smallest movement was a struggle. Its eyelids grew heavy, its mind muddled—sleep beckoned.

Ye Hua, gritting his teeth, kept his hands plunged in the demon’s belly, feeling the heat slowly flow into his meridians. Yet his left arm’s lung meridian was blocked by the golden eagle, and his right arm’s veins were badly damaged, making the flow far slower than before.

Fearing the bat might recover if given time, he dared not pause. He secretly activated the Nine Yin Ghost Concealment Art. Instantly, several black shadows appeared around him, noses raised to the air, delighting in the scent of blood. Spotting the nearly unconscious demon bat, and needing no urging from Ye Hua, they pounced upon it, sprawling across its body to devour its flesh and vital essence.

The demon bat, wracked by new waves of pain, found its senses briefly sharpened. Seeing these strange, insubstantial spirits feasting upon it, it flew into a fresh rage and, gathering its last reserves, flared with a crimson aura, blasting several shadows away in wisps of black mist.

Yet in moments, new shadows reformed a dozen feet away and lunged back. The bat’s heart sank. In better days, such puny creatures would have been less than nothing, but now it was a tiger on a plain, helpless against its foes. Its strength ebbing, its vision dimming, it slowly closed its eye.

No one could say how much time passed. Ye Hua only knew his dantian swelled as if to burst, yet he dared not relent for a moment. The shadows, too, seemed insatiable, never pausing in their devouring. Before long, the demon bat shriveled and withered, its breath fading to almost nothing.