The Young Lord had never imagined that this young cultivator he had completely dismissed—a mere half-step Emperor realm practitioner—could thoroughly suppress him in combat.
The Young Lord was, after all, a third-level Emperor realm powerhouse. Having pledged himself to the demon race and obtained some of their secret arts, his combat strength among these four rogue cultivators was arguably second to none.
He had originally believed that subduing this half-step Emperor realm cultivator with his own hands would be as easy as flipping his palm.
But the moment they exchanged blows, he realized just how naive he had been.
This half-step Emperor realm cultivator was not merely difficult to deal with—he was being driven into the ground, completely pinned under his opponent's relentless pressure.
If one were to select the people on Divine Abyss Continent least afraid of the demon race, Jiang Chen would unquestionably rank among the very top.
It wasn't that Jiang Chen's personal strength was so extraordinary that it dwarfed all others. Rather, he simply harbored no fear of the demon race whatsoever—and that was the greatest difference between himself and the native cultivators of Divine Abyss Continent.
In his previous life, he had been the Son of the Heavenly Emperor, his experience and knowledge surpassing all under heaven. He was no stranger to the demon race, and psychologically, the very idea of fearing them was impossible.
After all, in the Great World of the Myriad Realms from his previous life, the demon race was merely one of the many races under the Heavenly Emperor's dominion. In the Great World of the Myriad Abyss, they were nothing more than an ordinary faction—hardly capable of stirring up any real storm.
Psychological superiority was one advantage, but in terms of actual strength, Jiang Chen likewise held numerous edges.
With his half-step Emperor realm cultivation, he genuinely did not regard ordinary Emperor realm cultivators as worthy adversaries. And that was before accounting for his many hidden cards.
The Young Lord had pledged himself to the demon race and, while he had obtained only the most superficial of their techniques, it had still propelled his rise through the rogue cultivator world like a blazing comet.
But fame among rogue cultivators was one thing; facing Jiang Chen in battle was something else entirely.
Even a third-level Emperor realm cultivator from a major sect would be tearing their hair out against the current Jiang Chen, let alone this Young Lord who was, at the end of the day, merely a rogue cultivator. Though he had gained some surface-level demonic arts, they were nothing more than shortcuts. In terms of true foundation, the Young Lord was sorely lacking.
If Jiang Chen were to deploy his trump cards, he could slaughter this Young Lord with ease. He was simply holding back for the time being.
But even with this restraint, the Young Lord was struggling desperately under Jiang Chen's ghost-like attacks.
Of course, the Young Lord hadn't used his own trump cards either. It wasn't that he didn't want to—it was that he harbored deep misgivings.
Elder Kongyun and the Silver Sand Guest were still maintaining their neutrality, standing apart from the fray.
The moment the Young Lord resorted to demonic techniques and exposed evidence of his allegiance to the demon race, he would face not just this half-step Emperor realm cultivator alone.
Elder Kongyun and the Silver Sand Guest would turn on him without hesitation.
Under Jiang Chen's suffocating pressure, the Young Lord felt his situation growing more precarious by the second.
"I can't keep this up—dragging this out will only get me killed." The Young Lord's handsome face had gone deathly pale, and a flash of vicious malice crossed his features.
At this point, there was no longer room for half-measures.
The Young Lord silently activated his demonic cultivation. His ashen complexion suddenly flushed with a bizarre, feverish crimson, as though he had consumed some potent wine. Bands of red radiance, like wisps of rosy cloud, flickered and shifted across the surface of his skin in an utterly eerie display. The meridians across his entire body surged to life beneath that crimson glow, each one swelling to alarming size. A murderous aura of terrifying intensity erupted outward in a frenzied torrent.
Jiang Chen watched this unfold with neither alarm nor surprise—as though he had expected nothing less. A cold, mocking smile curled his lips. "Showing your fox's tail at last, are we?"
Between the Young Lord's brows, a mark resembling a tongue of flame materialized, radiating a light so piercing it was nearly blinding. It flickered upon his forehead like some monstrous, unblinking eye.
This grotesque spectacle left Elder Kongyun and the Silver Sand Guest, who had been watching from the sidelines, visibly shaken.
"What… what is that?" Even the Golden Needle Granny, who had considered the matter none of her concern, was struck with astonishment, her jaw dropping open in disbelief.
In the martial world, there were no shortage of Divine Abilities related to bloodline evolution. Cultivators who carried totemic bloodline powers frequently experienced transformations of their bloodline.
The Young Lord's current state bore a superficial resemblance to a bloodline frenzy.
But this similarity was only skin-deep. In truth, the aura emanating from the Young Lord's transformation during this process made one's heart seize with dread—an involuntary, primal terror that clawed its way up from the depths of one's soul.
This was far beyond a simple bloodline frenzy.
"Could it be… this fellow has truly pledged himself to the demon race?" the Silver Sand Guest murmured, his expression grave beyond measure, eyes sharp with wariness.
Elder Kongyun's brow was tightly furrowed as well. Clearly, this revelation had caught him off guard.
"Boy, I don't care what background you come from—today, you will not leave Cloud Collapse Mountain alive!" The Young Lord let out a string of eerie, cackling laughter, his voice suddenly dripping with bone-chilling cold.
Hearing the Young Lord's voice, the Golden Needle Granny felt goosebumps erupt across her entire body. She furrowed her brow and muttered, "You two, this mess is none of this old woman's business. I'm leaving—don't mind me!"
The Golden Needle Granny had clearly realized she had stumbled into a maelstrom. She had always lived by the principle of self-preservation. Seeing the Young Lord's ghastly transformation, a knot of fear tightened in her chest, and her first instinct was to put as much distance between herself and this place as possible.
Before Elder Kongyun or the Silver Sand Guest could say a word, the Golden Needle Granny had already transformed into a streak of brilliant light, shooting away toward the outer reaches of the mountain range.