Chapter 272: Unpredictable Fortune and Misfortune

To continuously increase the frequency of his thoughts required a corresponding cultivation level.

Cheng Lingyu remained at the Soul Martial Sixth Realm. Though his mental power surpassed ordinary people, he still struggled intensely.

Determined to uncover the lake’s secrets, Cheng Lingyu concentrated fiercely, pushing the Destruction of Space Divine Thought Wave’s frequency to its limit.

Suddenly, the wave captured fragmented images: beneath the island lay a radiant zone bursting with countless beams of brilliance.

The blinding light obscured details, leaving only faint glimpses of glowing clusters. Refusing to relent, Cheng Lingyu strained further until the images sharpened slightly.

In that luminous world, a red light dominated a white one, both entangled fiercely. Nearby, two pale-red clusters guarded them like sentinels within a distorted space.

The hazy scenes revealed nothing more. Cheng Lingyu withdrew the wave, puzzling over the four mysterious lights.

Hu Yuer leaned silently against his shoulder, feigning sleep. After failing to decipher the vision, Cheng Lingyu released her and began refining the Blood Fetuses inside him—dozens remained unprocessed from earlier mergers.

Hu Yuer watched him with conflicted eyes. Though Cheng Lingyu had exposed many secrets during their trials, his origins stayed shrouded in mystery.

His background and sect were common knowledge, as were his Yunyang City ties. Yet his cultivation baffled all—especially after forging the Soul Domain Avatar and merging the Ten Immortal Souls.

Bloodlight pulsed around Cheng Lingyu as he refined the fetuses, his aura surging without strengthening his overall strength.

Hu Yuer sighed inwardly. *Was this the right path? Could she truly control what came next?*

Though she meant no harm, uncertainty gnawed at her. As a proud prodigy of the Fox People, she’d always mastered her emotions—until Cheng Lingyu stirred unexpected ripples in her calm heart.

…

At the Blood Moon Wasteland’s edge, experts from the Three Saints and Four Peerless and other forces loitered near the ancient ruin’s entrance. Days had passed without news since Yan Fei’s emergence.

That afternoon, a ripple at the entrance snapped everyone to attention. “Look! Someone’s coming out!”

A swaying figure tumbled forth, aura chaotic and injuries evident. “A disciple from Lou Ri City?” someone guessed uncertainly—over a hundred lesser-known disciples had entered.

Lou Ri City’s experts squinted at the figure. “Junior Brother Long Jiang!”

Two Feixing Ridge elders rushed forward, catching the gravely wounded Long Jiang.

“Long Jiang, I’m so relieved you survived! What about the others?”

Long Jiang’s injuries were grave, his face deathly pale.

“Only junior sister Ye made it by hiding in my magical artifact. All our brothers…”

That day, experts from the Divine Martial Sect had ambushed Lou Ri City’s disciples. Under Xiao Lingfeng’s command, everyone fought desperately to break free – whoever could escape, should.

Though Long Jiang managed to flee, he’d been gravely injured. He’d crawled for days before reaching the exit.

“Just returning alive is victory,” murmured Lou Ri City’s experts, grateful two more disciples had survived.

When Long Jiang released Ye Xinyi from the artifact, she appeared unharmed though visibly shaken.

Nie Jiaolong studied her fellow Yunyang City beauty. “Fortune favors you.”

Ye Xinyi’s smile twisted bitterly. “I’m here… but the others…” Her voice trailed into silence.

Long Jiang started upon seeing Mu Hua and Pan Hong. “You escaped too?”

“We nearly died,” Mu Hua admitted. “Cheng junior apprentice saved us.”

“Cheng junior apprentice?”

Pan Hong explained, “Cheng Lingyu of Fallen God Ridge. After rescuing Nie Jiaolong and Tian Feng, he helped us too. He’s now joining elder brothers Xiao Lingfeng, Chen Song, Zuo Yi and Han Zhen at Xuan Star Palace.”

Long Jiang marveled, “You outpaced me? How many remain from our hundred?”

“Without Cheng Lingyu,” Pan Hong said, “we four would’ve perished. Who knows the final count?”

Grief roughened Long Jiang’s voice. “The Divine Martial Sect butchers us for sport. This blood debt won’t be forgotten.”

“Cheng junior apprentice already settled it,” Mu Hua said.

“A Soul Martial Realm disciple alone?” Long Jiang’s disbelief mirrored Ye Xinyi’s as both turned to Nie Jiaolong.

“At Xuan Star Palace,” Nie Jiaolong explained, “only Cheng Lingyu’s scroll could open the doors. He demanded every Divine Martial Sect disciple die first. Only Yan Fei escaped wounded – the rest were slaughtered.”

Long Jiang’s bitter laugh shook with rage. “Good! Wipe them all out!”

Ye Xinyi stood speechless, struggling to comprehend this reversal.

Across the field, Divine Martial Sect experts seethed with shame. Only Red Feather Spirit Master’s prior warning from Jiu Yang Sacred Palace prevented open war with Lou Ri City.

Though the Divine Martial Sect lost many in the ancient ruin, their Soul Martial Realm disciples survived intact. Half their Blood Martial Realm experts had fallen during the palace massacre. Still, proportionally, Lou Ri City’s losses cut deeper.

Of course, in terms of the casualties’ value between both sides, the Divine Martial Sect suffered heavier losses.

Long Jiang’s survival caused little stir, and without bringing new news, everyone remained ignorant about Xuan Star Palace’s situation.

The next morning, a peculiar fluctuation emerged from the depths of the vast Blood Moon Wasteland, drawing attention from numerous experts.

Spirit Masters of the Three Saints and Four Peerless stared at the wasteland’s heart with puzzled expressions, secretly launching probes to discern what had occurred. Lou Ri City’s Luo Feng Spirit Master frowned slightly – though weakened after traveling hundreds of miles, the faint ripple carried a familiar signature.

“This is…”

Nearby, veiled Qiu Yu murmured, “Lou Ri City’s emergency signal. Only used in direst peril.”

Mu Bai questioned, “Why from Blood Moon Wasteland? We must investigate.”

Luo Feng Spirit Master contemplated, “The Blood Moon Wasteland’s notorious. Saints perished there, let alone countless Spirit Masters.”

With Lou Ri City’s limited numbers, reckless entry meant danger. Sending experts risked heavy losses, while ordinary disciples would march to their deaths. Though unspoken, Mu Bai understood these concerns.

“I’ll go.”

Xuanmoon Ridge’s veiled Feixue suddenly spoke, drawing all eyes.

Luo Feng Spirit Master nodded at her. “You’re reliable. Stay cautious.”

Feixue’s figure vanished instantly, astonishing Mu Hua and Pan Hong with her speed. Mu Bai, Wan Fang and Qiu Yu remained impassive, while other Lou Ri disciples marveled at her unfathomable cultivation level.

Watching Feixue enter the cursed wasteland, experts from various forces felt uneasy. The Divine Martial Sect watched with malicious curiosity – why would Feixue venture there? Could it relate to the strange signal?

As hours crawled by, all eyes stayed fixed on the wasteland. When Feixue returned bearing a corpse an hour later, Xingyun Ridge’s two elder brothers cried out in anguish: “Zuo… Zuo Yi?!”

Behind her veil, Feixue’s eyes held autumnal desolation. Among Lou Ri City’s twenty-six present members, twenty-five mourned over Zuo Yi’s shattered remains – his half-exploded body bearing witness to brutal, final battles.