In the heart of the corrupted core room, Yan Jin sprinted deeper into the darkness, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the oppressive silence. Behind him, Bloodwitch Fu and her twisted subordinates pursued relentlessly, their forms barely visible in the swirling mist of corruption.
"Old witch, why are you chasing after me?" Yan Jin called over his shoulder, not daring to slow down. His voice was edged with frustration and the faintest hint of amusement. "I already gave the box away."
Bloodwitch Fu's eyes burned with suspicion, glowing a sinister red in the shadows. "I don't believe for one second that you would share the stem cell," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "I know it's still with you—give it back!"
Yan Jin smirked as he continued to weave through the dark corridors, the mist thickening around him. After what felt like an eternity of running, he finally turned to face his pursuers. His expression was calm, almost mocking. "Since you won't let me go, you might as well stay here forever," he said, nocking an arrow onto his longbow with practiced ease.
Bloodwitch Fu's laugh was cold and filled with disdain. "You think you can stop me with your puny cultivation?" she sneered, her eyes glowing brighter as she summoned her dark energy. The mist around her seemed to pulse in response, thickening and twisting with her power.
Yan Jin's smirk deepened as he pointed past her into the darkness. "Not me. Him."
Before Meng could react, Scar emerged from the shadows like a vengeful phantom, his massive, scaly form cutting through the mist with terrifying speed. His roar echoed through the chamber, a sound filled with raw power and rage. He lunged at the bloodwitch's subordinates with a ferocity that left them no time to react, his immense scales gleaming in the dim light as he tore through their ranks.
In the chaos that followed, Yan Jin seized his chance. As Bloodwitch Fu was forced to defend herself against Scar's relentless assault, Yan Jin melted into the dark mist once again, his form vanishing as if he were a part of the shadows themselves.
The bloodwitch, now preoccupied with the monstrous force of Scar, had no choice but to focus on the immediate threat, her pursuit of Yan Jin momentarily forgotten.
Scar's roars and the sounds of battle reverberated through the corrupted core room, but Yan Jin was already gone, slipping deeper into the darkness where the mist swallowed all sound and sight.
He had successfully diverted the bloodwitch's attention, leaving Scar to delay her and her followers while he continued on his path, determined to fulfill his mission and outmaneuver those who sought to stop him.
--
On the surface, Wei Xi was locked in a desperate battle, his spear flashing as he struck down wave after wave of corrupted cells. The box he carried had drawn the attention of the corruption, giving the citizens precious time to reach safety and defensive formations. But now, he was encircled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as exhaustion threatened to overtake him.
Nie Li's gaze shifted to the box that had caused so much chaos. With swift, practiced movements, he grabbed it, securing it in his grasp. Without wasting a moment, he leaped onto his flying lion and soared into the sky, leaving the scene of devastation behind him. His destination was clear—the Yan Family. The box was now in his possession, and he intended to make the most of the chaos he had sown.
--
"Argggggggggggggggh!!" The agonized roar of the Corrupted Garuda echoed across the battlefield as it clashed with Purple Spear Meng and the City Lord. Each blow shook the earth beneath them, the corrupted energy from the Garuda colliding with the powerful strikes of its opponents.
But amidst this fierce battle, their senses heightened, both Meng and the City Lord suddenly perceived a shift not far away. The faintest disturbance in the air—the unmistakable aura of betrayal.
They turned their attention toward the source of the disruption, their eyes locking onto the fleeing figure of Nie Li, clutching the coveted box. A dark rage ignited within them. Meng's thoughts raced as the memory of his niece's death flashed before him, fueling his fury. With a guttural roar, he abandoned his fight with the Garuda and sped toward Nie Li, the City Lord following close behind.
"Nie Li, I will kill you!" Purple Spear Meng's voice was a thunderous declaration of vengeance as he sprinted after the fleeing traitor. The distance between them closed rapidly, but Nie Li, driven by desperation, pushed his flying lion harder, urging it toward the Yan Clan's stronghold.
The towering silhouette of the Yan Clan's compound loomed on the horizon, and Nie Li's heart pounded in his chest. "Launch the array!" he screamed, his voice strained with panic as he saw the pursuing figures gaining ground. The patriarch Yan, seeing the dire situation, hurriedly activated the array, the intricate patterns on the ground glowing with an ominous light.
Nie Li barely managed to slip into the safety of the array's confines before it began to seal off, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A twisted grin spread across his face as he turned to taunt his enraged adversaries, believing himself safe from retribution.
But before he could utter a single word, a flash of steel cut through the air—a long spear, hurled with deadly precision by Purple Spear Meng, soared toward him.
In a reflexive act of self-preservation, Nie Li shoved the patriarch Yan forward, using him as a human shield. The spear struck true, embedding itself in the patriarch's shoulder with a sickening thud, severing his left arm in the process. Blood sprayed across the array as the patriarch let out a guttural cry of pain, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal.
Nie Li stumbled back, his cowardice once again exposed, but his fear was overshadowed by the fact that the array had completed its activation. In an instant, the Yan Clan, along with their golden guardians and the treacherous Nie Li, vanished from Pine City, leaving behind only the chaos and devastation they had wrought.
As the light of the array faded, Purple Spear Meng and the City Lord were left standing at the edge of the city, their fury unquenched. The spear that had severed the patriarch's arm now lay embedded in the ground, a stark reminder of the vengeance they had been denied. The corrupted Garuda roared in frustration, its prey having escaped, but the two warriors knew that this battle was far from over.
The Yan Clan may have fled, but they had not escaped judgment.