A Pawn's Passage

The tribal chief and the humanoid insect elder made the first move. One charged forward with the force of rolling thunder, while the other moved like a phantom, converging on Hun Ahau from opposite sides.

Though Hun Ahau was always respectful in front of Qi Xuansu, he seemed like an entirely different person when facing these three enemies. He let out a hearty laugh and scoffed. “You all are so eager to throw your lives away, huh? Very well then, I shall grant your wish.”

The tribal chief was rough in appearance and explosive in fighting style. Clenching both fists tightly, he unleashed his surging blood qi. He relied almost entirely on brute strength, generating thunderous sonic booms through sheer force alone.

By contrast, the humanoid insect elder lacked the tribal chief’s brutishness. He resembled a Daoist Earthly Immortal, favoring a softer, more insidious style. With a sweep of his sleeve, five bleached skulls materialized in midair. Each skull was a different color—black, white, green, red, and yellow—emitting different colored mist that enveloped Hun Ahau.

Faced with the combined assault of two Heavenly Beings, Hun Ahau neither dodged nor retreated. Instead, he threw out both fists simultaneously, one toward each opponent.

In the next instant, Hun Ahau’s right fist collided with the tribal chief’s punch. The impact shook the rainforest below violently. Countless leaves fell from the trees, while many nearby warriors died on the spot from having their hearts ruptured by the shockwave, with blood gushing out of their orifices.

The tribal chief’s expression changed slightly. Meeting Hun Ahau’s fist came at a price. His own fist was mangled into a bloody mess, and every bone within his entire arm shattered. By contrast, Hun Ahau’s fist remained completely unscathed.

Hun Ahau unleashed his fist intention with his left fist to disperse the five-colored mist and shatter the five skulls. The remaining fist intention then surged toward the humanoid insect elder like relentless ocean waves, each wave piling upon the last. Ripples of every size spread outward in overlapping circles, their vibrations continuing without end.

This time, the humanoid insect elder dared not meet the attack head-on. With a flick of his sleeve, a spray of white threads shot forth, weaving themselves into an enormous silken net that shielded him beneath it.

Even so, Hun Ahau’s fist intention still engulfed the humanoid insect elder. For a moment, the elder felt as though he had sunk into the depths of the ocean, his body helplessly swept along by the currents. Endless pressure bore down on him from every direction, threatening to crush him.

With a single move, Hun Ahau suppressed both Heavenly Being experts. One fist embodied an overwhelming masculine force that was majestic and unstoppable. The other displayed refined softness. Combining hardness with softness, he fully demonstrated the prowess of a Pseudo-Immortal Martial Arts Practitioner.

Although the tribal chief and the humanoid insect elder were not completely incapable of fighting back, they immediately realized that neither of them stood a chance in a one-on-one fight. At best, they could put up a token resistance before inevitably being beaten to death by Hun Ahau.

Even more frightening was the fact that Hun Ahau also had three people on his side. They did not know the full extent of Qi Xuansu’s abilities, but they knew Utu well. After all, they had been allies with Utu, only to become enemies in the blink of an eye. Utu was no weaker than Hun Ahau. If this turned into a three-on-three battle, there would be no point in fighting at all.

For a moment, both the tribal chief and the humanoid insect elder found themselves caught in an impossible dilemma, unable to advance yet equally unable to retreat.

The Southern Continent was even larger than the Central Plains, and this southern rainforest alone covered nearly the area of two states. Within this vast region, both the tribal chief and the humanoid insect elder were people who inspired awe. To the ordinary tribesmen, they were akin to living gods. Yet despite joining forces against a single opponent, they had fallen into a disadvantage almost immediately. The thousands of warriors watching from all around were completely dumbfounded by the sight.

Even if several thousand men attacked the enemy all at once, who knew how many would have to die?

One person had yet to make a move—the Shaman-like priest who worshipped the black sun. While the other two had attacked earlier, the priest had withdrawn to the side to prepare a spell, relying on them to buy him time. Now that the spell was complete, a layer of endlessly churning black mist had somehow appeared around Hun Ahau. The mist continued to rise and spread until it completely enveloped the general.

When the priest spread his arms wide, a throne of white bones materialized beneath his feet, while the black qi above his head condensed into a jet-black crown. As he moved, both the throne beneath him and the crown above his head burst into roaring black flames. He slowly lowered his head and began chanting a hymn in the language of the Holy Court.

This language was known as Latin, serving both as the Holy Court’s language for official assemblies and for religious rites. Much like Sanskrit in Buddhism, Latin not only held a special status but also possessed unique mystical power.

The Fallen Apostles had once been Apostles of the Holy Court. After their fall, they further developed their arts, transforming divine miracles into magic, granting them even more peculiar abilities.

Zuriel was not only the Apostle of Slaughter but also the Apostle of Lies and Deception. He authored the Scripture of Zuriel, through which one could even obtain power that did not truly belong to oneself by deceiving both others and oneself. Even Immortals were no exception.

This hymn from Zuriel possessed the mysterious power to bewitch the mind, so much so that even a Martial Arts Practitioner was not immune. Conversely, Zuriel’s deception could also temporarily grant Martial Arts Practitioners greater cultivation. It was a double-edged sword that was not purely destructive, but instead capable of bypassing the Martial Arts Practitioner’s unique defensive mechanisms.

The lengthy hymn chanted by this priest was like reading a fragmented page from the Scripture of Zuriel. But it did not bestow false power, only madness that disrupted the target’s mind. By sacrificing potency, it gained greater controllability, avoiding backlash upon its caster while allowing allies to be exempted if desired. Its only drawback was the lengthy preparation required. In a one-on-one battle, there would never be an opportunity to use it.

Hun Ahau experienced a brief moment of bewilderment. Countless memories of the past resurfaced. He saw Hun Chowen, with whom he had been close since childhood. He felt as if he had gained the power to resurrect his brother, and all he had to do was lift a finger to restore everything to the way it had once been.

Deep down, Hun Ahau knew something was wrong, yet he remained hopelessly immersed in the illusion, unable to free himself.

That fleeting but fatal lapse in concentration created an opening for both the tribal chief and the humanoid insect elder to strike once again.

They figured that as long as they dealt with Hun Ahau first, they would be able to handle the remaining two opponents.

But at that very moment, all three sensed an increasingly intense sword intention rising into the air. At the same time, the sword qi was aimed directly at the humanoid insect elder.

Just as the humanoid insect elder was about to strike, he was momentarily frozen in place by the pull of the sword intention.

Although the humanoid insect elder broke free of the sword intention almost instantly, in that fleeting moment, Qi Xuansu, who had been observing the battle from the beginning, had already streaked across the sky and charged straight toward the humanoid insect elder.

The humanoid insect elder decided to ignore Qi Xuansu and take the sword strike head-on, as he was determined to eliminate Hun Ahau first.

But to everyone’s astonishment, it was the priest’s head that flew high into the air.

The black crown fell from the priest’s head and vanished without a trace.

At that moment, the headless body of the priest began to tremble violently.

In the next instant, countless streams of black qi gushed out from the severed neck. Then innumerable fine cracks spread across the priest’s body, with the same black qi erupting from every fissure.

The black qi burst into blazing black flames.

The throne of white bones collapsed with a thunderous crash into the sea of fire.

A bright full moon quietly appeared, its silvery moonlight cascading from the heavens.

The one who had struck was none other than Utu.

The reason the three had dared to attack together was that the Hymns of Zuriel was a large-area spell. Everyone within its range, except for the caster and those exempted by the caster, would be affected. In their eyes, the spell had not only restrained Hun Ahau but had also prevented Qi Xuansu and Utu from intervening.

What they had not expected was that neither Qi Xuansu nor Utu was affected.

Compared with Hun Ahau, Utu possessed one great advantage. He had spiritual conviction because he believed in Ixchel with absolute devotion. That faith had originally sprung from the admiration and love of a humble man for a goddess. Whether one called it self-deception or weakness, Utu’s faith made him far less susceptible to this kind of spell. Moreover, he was not its primary target, so its effects on him were even weaker.

On the other hand, Hun Ahau had no true faith to speak of. Nominally, he worshipped the Primordial Daoist Ancestor, but that was still far too distant and intangible. He himself remained torn between emotion and power, leaving his heart riddled with flaws and vulnerabilities.

Meanwhile, Qi Xuansu had used far too many pages from the Scripture of Zuriel, so he had accumulated extensive experience dealing with its effects and had developed a certain degree of resistance to it. It was much like a person who built a higher alcohol tolerance after years of drinking. As such, a weak spell like this simply could not affect him.

The humanoid insect elder was utterly horrified. Casting a hurried glance from the corner of his eye, he happened to witness the death of the priest. Yet the sword qi already bearing down upon him left him no time to think of anything else.

Qi Xuansu had now set his sights on the humanoid insect elder. He arrived with Green Cloud in hand, piercing the humanoid insect elder in the center of the forehead even when the elder kept dodging. It felt like Qi Xuansu had foreseen every possible move in advance and perfectly predicted the humanoid insect elder’s actions. From an outsider’s perspective, it even looked as if the humanoid insect elder had deliberately thrown himself onto Qi Xuansu’s sword.

Naturally, Qi Xuansu was not using Yao Pei’s Heavenly Blade. Although Zhou Mengyao had technically been his former master, she had never taught him that technique. Even if she had, he would not have been able to learn it at the time.

The reason Qi Xuansu could predict the humanoid insect elder’s moves was due to the Guizang Lantern.

After experimenting with the Guizang Lantern for some time, Qi Xuansu had more or less figured it out. If he wanted the lantern to display its true power, he had to keep replenishing its lamp oil, which was divine power. At critical moments, the Guizang Lantern often produced miraculous results.

The humanoid insect elder was at the same cultivation level as Qi Xuansu, so under normal circumstances, he should have been able to exchange a few blows. However, Qi Xuansu had far too many immortal objects, rendering all conventional reasoning meaningless.

Moreover, the humanoid insect elder had no idea that Qi Xuansu had the Guizang Lantern, so how could he possibly have defended against it?

The sword qi of Green Cloud frenziedly shredded the humanoid insect elder’s life force.

The humanoid insect elder tried to resist, but the demonic fire immediately followed. Even Wu Guangbi had found Qi Xuansu’s demonic fire exceedingly troublesome back then, let alone the humanoid insect elder, whose cultivation was inferior to Wu Guangbi’s.

The humanoid insect elder glared fixedly at Qi Xuansu and cried out in agony, “Qi Xuansu!”

Qi Xuansu remained unfazed as he plunged his left hand, which was enveloped in demonic fire, into the humanoid insect elder’s chest and pulled out a writhing insect that struggled without end.