Chapter 81: Crushing Suoguang

Thud!

Inside the cave sealed by layers of enchantments, a dull, explosive sound suddenly erupted.

The intruder had just poked his head out when Qin Yue struck him squarely with his small cauldron, forcing him back down. What surprised Qin Yue was that the cauldron, which had always been unstoppable and heavy as a mountain, failed to crush the man to death. The loud sound came from the impact against the helmet; though it shattered, it did not harm the skull beneath. Still, the force left the man utterly disoriented, blood gushing from his mouth.

Without hesitation, Qin Yue summoned the sword intent of the Falling Leaf Sword Scripture, sending it surging underfoot to pierce the earth and strike the man. Yet every blow was blocked by a dazzling aura of treasure.

Qin Yue was astonished—not only was the helmet extraordinary, but the man was also equipped with numerous top-tier defensive artifacts.

In a flash, Qin Yue grabbed the man, showing no mercy as he swung the cauldron again, smashing his limbs into a pulp. The man, previously only half-conscious, was jolted awake by the agony. Both arms and legs lost all feeling, and he let out a piercing, wretched scream.

What was even more shocking: in this state, a savage, fang-faced ghost materialized from his body, launching itself at Qin Yue with murderous intent.

A demonic cultivator!

Qin Yue remained unflinchingly calm, forming seals to unleash several bolts of violet lightning. Thunder is the bane of evil spirits; even a brush from violet lightning would obliterate ordinary phantoms. Yet this formidable ghost, nearly corporeal, endured five or six bolts, its body shattered but quickly recomposed.

It spoke in human tongue: "You wretched brat, I never expected you to be the most dangerous presence hidden within the sect..."

With renewed malice, it lunged at Qin Yue. The cave filled with chilling winds, bone-numbing cold, and a cacophony of screams and cries—harrowing sounds that battered Qin Yue's mind.

Anyone with weaker mental fortitude would have been overcome by illusions, powerless to resist.

Qin Yue swung the cauldron decisively, smashing it down. Instantly, the inscriptions on the cauldron radiated strange light, like lightning tearing through darkness, dissolving the spiritual assault. The cold vanished; the cauldron struck the ghost, dispersing it into nothingness.

It all happened in a blink—when the dust settled, Qin Yue gazed at the cauldron in his hand, his eyes brimming with delight and gratitude. Truly a divine artifact: it could crush flesh and was equally lethal to manifest entities of dreadful evil.

With his greatest defenses shattered, the man lying on the ground, limbs broken, was utterly helpless. Behind the mask, his eyes were filled with terror and despair, unable to comprehend how things had come to this. Clearly, when he emerged from underground, his spiritual sense told him Qin Yue was far away.

"How did he sense my presence? Where did he get such speed and reflexes? How can that cauldron be so terrifying?"

Question after question surfaced only now.

Qin Yue examined the man, suddenly sensing a faint fluctuation in the surrounding space.

Could this be someone from the Realm of Light—a human immortal? Even in this state... could he still escape?

Qin Yue acted instantly, thrusting his sword deep into the man's lower dantian.

Clang!

The sharp blade struck armor and was blocked. Yet the blow still made the man grimace in pain, interrupting his spellcasting and ruining his last chance. The look he gave Qin Yue was full of venomous hatred.

Qin Yue was unmoved. He stripped off the armor and quickly searched the man, removing his storage ring and all defensive artifacts.

Once more, Qin Yue stabbed, piercing the small, fully human-shaped inner pellet in the dantian with ruthless precision. The man howled in despair: "You wretched brat, if you have the guts, just kill me!"

"That's not happening," Qin Yue replied, twisting his wrist to pulverize the inner pellet. The pain made the man lose consciousness. Another thrust followed, aimed at the center of his chest. Qin Yue sensed a cluster of unusual energy within his spiritual sea—a mystery he attacked on instinct, determined to destroy it.

With all threats eliminated, Qin Yue prepared to interrogate him.

He thought, the assassinations of Qiao Cheng, Sheng Lin, and Xue Song shouldn't be exposed so quickly. Even if someone like Xue Song suspected him, it was unlikely they'd attack so directly.

Using his sword, Qin Yue flicked off the man's mask, revealing an unfamiliar, deeply wrinkled face twisted by pain, mouth full of blood.

An elder demon cultivator?

This was not one of the names the "Contact" had given him. Yet, judging by his artifacts and formidable skills, Qin Yue was almost certain: this was one of the old, hidden demon cultivators unknown to the Contact.

The man was aged, with a face like withered bark and eyes lifeless as dead fish. He had regained consciousness, staring blankly at Qin Yue without speaking.

"I don't even know you. Why did you try to kill me?"

The elder's dead-fish eyes slowly moved, his cold gaze fixed on Qin Yue: "Unimaginable... truly unimaginable... for someone so young to possess such dreadful power. Everyone misjudged you. The Zhaoyang Sect... is about to face calamity!"

Even at death's door, he clung to airs.

Qin Yue tossed a violet flame onto the wound near the man's navel, freshly made by the sword. The burning made him convulse violently, yet he gritted his teeth and howled, "Torturing me is useless. I won't tell you anything of value!"

"Is that so?" Qin Yue frowned, annoyed by such a fearless old man.

"You won't get anything from me!" Blood poured from the elder's lips, his face twisted by agony, resembling the ghost that had just attacked Qin Yue.

"It's not hard for me to uncover your identity. Unless you truly have no ties in the sect, I will hunt down every single relative you have. I refuse to believe they will be as stubborn under torture as you!" Qin Yue said.

The elder's eyes widened, staring at Qin Yue: "Do not harm my family!"

"You old fools still care about that? I find it hard to believe."

Qin Yue smiled. If the man remained unmoved, he’d burn him to ash and leave. If discovered, it would be serious trouble.

Fortunately, judging by his reaction, he likely had family to protect.

"You're a spy from the Demon Sect, right? Practiced some supreme art of rejuvenation? Dare to tell me your name?"

To the elder, a youth of seventeen or eighteen, even from the immortal realm, shouldn't possess such power or such treasures! But what truly doomed him today was Qin Yue’s cauldron.

He could not fathom the artifact's level—it shattered his Third Realm helmet.

"Now, I'm asking the questions. Give me honest answers, and I'll spare every innocent relative you have. Otherwise, I'll make sure your entire lineage joins you in death—no descendants left!"

"How ruthless you are!"

"The feeling is mutual."

The elder sighed, murmuring, "I came to kill you because I heard the Sect Master intends to marry the current Saintess to you. If you rise, you’ll investigate the destruction of Bamboo Garden years ago..."

So that was the reason, Qin Yue thought.

"So, you were one of those who destroyed Bamboo Garden?"

"Indeed. Debts and grudges have their owners. It was my doing. If you seek vengeance, you’re killing the right person."

"Enough nonsense. I have several questions. Answer truthfully, and I'll spare all your relatives who don't deserve death."

The elder caught Qin Yue’s meaning, paused in silence, then sighed deeply. "Ask."

"Where is the great medicine you stole from Bamboo Garden? Give me all the information you have about demon cultivators in the sect, including everyone involved in the Bamboo Garden massacre. Also, did anyone else know you came to kill me?"

Qin Yue’s gaze was icy. "Don't try to deceive me. If I dared to come here, I have the means to protect myself. If you lie about anything, not a single member of your family will be spared! Don't talk to me about rules or morals—I don't possess such lofty qualities. I am a petty, vengeful man."

The elder swallowed his words, falling silent again.

"It was an immortal herb, used long ago by the Sect Master to break through to the peak of Human Immortal. He was then taken away by immortals."

"His name?"

"Gu Qinghe."

"Go on."

"Demon cultivators within the sect—the complete list is known only to the successive Sect Masters. I know only a few..."

The elder named several people, their positions, and whereabouts. Some were in seclusion, others rarely returned, some had ascended to the immortal realm.

One detail surprised Qin Yue: among the demon cultivators disclosed, someone had established a sect in the mortal world, declaring himself the leader and worshipped as a 'god' by locals!

A cult founded by a demon cultivator—such a threat far exceeded Qiao Cheng and Xue Song, perhaps even the elder named Wang Yan before him.

Qin Yue memorized the names and details.

Wang Yan then listed those involved in the Bamboo Garden massacre: some dead, some ascended to the immortal realm.

"Of those still in the sect, aside from myself, only one remains—Yuan Baitao. She was once the sect's Saintess, now an inner elder."

"Her realm is higher than mine; a formidable figure. I believe she’s striving for the Third Realm, aiming to become an Immortal in the mortal world. My attempt on your life was unknown to others."

Qin Yue asked several more questions—about Ling Jinsong, Yue Mingxi, and the true foundation of Zhaoyang Sect.

Preparing to finish Wang Yan off, the elder, descendant of one of the sect's seven great families, could not help but ask:

"You may kill me, but will you tell me your name? Let me die with some closure?"

He could not believe that the youth before him was truly eighteen or nineteen. The style, ruthlessness, and methods of interrogation were too practiced.

Mostly, he regretted it; he had reached the Human Immortal stage—if not for today’s purge, he would have a strong chance to follow the soon-arriving immortals and leave...

He said he wanted closure, but his gaze was full of unwillingness.

Qin Yue chuckled, "Countless have died at your hands without closure. Why should I grant your wish?"

Wang Yan was infuriated. "You..."

But all he saw was the cauldron drawing closer.

Crash!

His head was shattered, death instantaneous.

Qin Yue formed seals, summoning violet lightning to obliterate the man's spirit.

Such an act might offend the heavens; true cultivators, absent deep hatred, would avoid it.

But fate decreed otherwise—Qin Yue carried the karmic burden of the Ice Abyss race. His hatred for these people was unending.

Gu Qinghe, Yuan Baitao... Qin Yue did not recite these names, only etched them silently in his heart.

Strong resentment could easily be sensed.

He burned the corpse to ash, then, under cover of night, visited Wang Yan's estate.