It was inevitable. The Lingxiao Pavilion's sect-protecting grand array was so powerful, yet it had still been battered to the brink of collapse under the demon race's assault. If Yang Kai had returned even a little later, it would almost certainly have been breached.
The Qingyang Divine Temple's sect-protecting array, while no mean feat, was still a notch below the Lingxiao Pavilion's. How could it possibly hold?
The moment the array shattered, Warmaster Wen had immediately sent a distress signal to the Lingxiao Pavilion. He knew full well that the Star Boundary was engulfed in war on every front and its great armies were all hard-pressed to fend off their own enemies — calling upon another army for aid might not have helped. Only the Jizi Army was strong and well-provisioned, and with so many powerful subordinates under Yang Kai's command, appealing to him was the Qingyang Divine Temple's only hope of survival.
Not long after the distress call went out, the Lian sisters were dispatched. Facing a Half-Sage from the demon race, Warmaster Wen led his troops into a fierce battle within the temple grounds, gradually stabilizing the situation.
Yang Kai swept his gaze across the scene, taking in everything inside the temple in an instant. His voice was low as he issued a single instruction: "Be careful, Senior Sister!"
He squeezed his legs, and Zhui Feng surged forward. The Million Swords gleamed with cold light as he charged straight toward the nearest Demon King. The Demon King saw Zhui Feng bearing down and his face drained of color. He reacted without hesitation, erupting in a cloud of blood mist that transformed into a streak of crimson light, preparing to flee.
Yang Kai reached out toward him. Space rippled and distorted under his Spatial Laws, and the Demon King's surroundings froze — in a single instant he was locked in place, unable to move.
Yang Kai rode past without so much as a glance. The Million Swords swayed gently, and he had already galloped several li beyond.
Behind him, the Demon King's body wavered, his eyes bulging — then he burst apart with a thunderous detonation, leaving not even bones behind.
The several hundred people who had just been taken into the Mystic Realm Bead were released once more. No instructions from Yang Kai were needed — they scattered immediately, cutting into the demon race forces.
Yang Kai rode Zhui Feng for a brief stretch, sensing the mount's bloodthirsty excitement, and simply let it run free. He himself shifted into a flickering silhouette, sword in hand, slaying enemies as he went.
A single Million Swords — no demon, however numerous, could stand against it.
Demons fell beneath the blade one after another. Demon Commanders and Demon Generals went without saying — before they could even register what had happened, their souls had already departed for the underworld. Even Demon Kings, exalted as they were, rarely lasted three breaths before Yang Kai.
He had just dispatched a Demon King who had been entangled with Murong Xiaoxiao. Murong Xiaoxiao was about to voice her thanks when Yang Kai suddenly turned his head, gazing toward a spot some ten li away.
Over there, Xia Ningshang's figure fluttered like a butterfly, desperately holding her own against a mid-tier Demon King's ferocious assault. Her dancing silhouette was like a willow branch tossed about in a violent storm — at the mercy of forces beyond her control.
Although Little Senior Sister had already reached the Emperor Realm, she had rarely engaged in direct combat since beginning her cultivation, let alone anything as brutal as head-on slaughter. Among Yang Kai's wives, she had the least combat experience of all. Her opponent's cultivation was a notch above hers, and so she was naturally outmatched. Despite her agile movements, the Demon King drove her into one precarious situation after another, each more desperate than the last.
In contrast, the Demon King wore a savage grin, his attacks coming like a frenzy, determined to put Xia Ningshang to death.
Just as Yang Kai looked over, the Demon King threw a punch. His massive fist was nearly half the size of Xia Ningshang's entire face, barreling straight for her chest.
The blow carried tremendous force — had there been a mountain in its path, it would have blasted clean through, let alone Xia Ningshang's delicate frame.
Murong Xiaoxiao cried out in alarm and darted forward to help, but ten li was too far. Even at her fastest, she would never make it in time.
Yang Kai did not move, though his mind had snapped to its sharpest edge in that instant, ready to intervene and save Little Senior Sister the moment things went critical.
Facing this mountain-splitting, cliff-shattering punch, a flicker of fear inevitably crossed Xia Ningshang's beautiful eyes. Never before had she felt death so close — not even when the Great Desolation Star Domain had ravaged the Xuanxuan Continent in those dark days.
In that moment of crisis, Xia Ningshang raised one pale hand, her slender jade-like fingers pinching a round bead the size of a longan. The bead looked utterly unremarkable — it was earth-brown in color, with not the faintest trace of spiritual energy fluctuation.
A memory surfaced in her mind: Yang Kai's words when he had first given it to her — "If you're ever in danger, hurl this object. It will see you through!"
Xia Ningshang trusted Yang Kai without reservation. Now, in this dire moment, she followed his instructions and flung the bead straight at the Demon King before her.
The Demon King saw Xia Ningshang toss a bead and instinctively grew wary, but a sweep of his divine sense told him the bead was nothing special. Glancing at her panicked expression, he sneered — clearly this frail human woman had been scared witless and was throwing whatever came to hand.
His forward-thrusting fist struck the oncoming bead with even greater force.
Crack...
A crisp sound rang out from his fist, followed by excruciating pain. The Demon King's expression changed, terror flooding his eyes.
What he had struck was no insignificant bead. The moment fist met bead, the Demon King felt as though an entire world was bearing down upon him.
The fist he was so proud of — that body of his, which could trade blows with demon artifacts — was, before this peculiar little bead, as fragile as paper.
An irresistible wave of force surged in from ahead. His fist exploded. His arm shattered. The bead's momentum was not spent. It tore through with devastating ease, crushing half the Demon King's body and hurtling onward toward a mountain behind him.