Chapter Twenty-Six: Sacrifice

last time. Killing it was no longer so easy.This content is empty. Please provide the text you would like translated.The fourth day...The fifth day...The Swiftlet is killed every day, and the next da...The thick fog could not obscure such brilliant crimson light. At that moment, Zhao Ruocheng was about to rise from the ground, and the swarming spirits nearly engulfed him.

Here is the translation:

But Du Yecho arrived!

He didn't even need to move. The intense blood energy swept over him, causing the surrounding specters to scatter instantly.

Du Yexi was direct and decisive. He grabbed Zhao Ru Cheng's collar and dragged him toward Ling He.

When the vengeful ghost’s vicious claw landed, several of those who had considered themselves older brothers felt their hearts sink with fear. Only Zhao Ruocheng didn't seem affected at all by the attack. He angrily shouted, "Hey hey hey, I can walk on my own!"

Du Yexiao disregarded Zhao Ruocheng's incessant clamor and rushed halfway before tossing him into the Ling River. Turning around, he wrapped his fist, imbued with a potent life force, and smashed it forcefully at the vengeful ghost.

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First, let's not talk about how Ling He soared into the air to catch Zhao Ru Cheng. Let's just talk about Du Ye Hu's fist.

Compared to the Purple Qi Coming Sword, his kung fu was not as refined. Even among the outer disciples of the Dao Institute, he was rather neglected. But when he unleashed it, it was exceptionally ferocious.

This punch wasn't a strike from an opening; it was a head-on attack, meeting the Oni's massive claws with brute force, offense against offense. It was truly fierce and unyielding!

The iron fist, imbued with tangible qi and blood power, collided with the azure-black giant claw. For a moment, they were locked in a stalemate.

Just then, Jiang Wang leaped forward again, his sword flashing. With a sudden strike, he severed the vengeful ghost's other eye.

"Retreat!"

Jiang Wang succeeded, then retreated far away. Du Yecho also jumped back in haste.

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And the vengeful ghost, blinded where it stood, grew increasingly violent. A pair of enormous claws raked wildly, stirring up a fierce whirlwind around it.

When its attack faltered, Jiang Wang seized the opportunity and charged up again. His long sword swept through the air in a graceful arc, descending upon the resentful ghost's right claw like a falling leaf, almost silently. But the moment it made contact with the sinister black claw, an unparalleled screech erupted!

The third technique of the Purple Qi Comes East Sword Manual, it's all about sharpness!

With a single sword strike, the ghost's right claw was severed.

Jiang Wang showed no desire to fight and even began to retreat as he drew his sword.

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The vengeful spirit, deprived of sight, could only vent its rage against the empty air before it. At this moment, Du Yehu, whose blood was surging with fury, had leaped behind it, rising high in the air. He held his hands together, like a pair of hammers, and slammed them down onto the grotesque head of the vengeful spirit with all his might.

Qi and blood wolf smoke were naturally able to suppress ghosts, let alone Du Yexi's ferocious strike. The fist wrapped in layers of qi and blood power instantly blasted the ghost's entire head apart!

Du Yecho dodged, but was splashed with the bluish-black foul blood. However, it was quickly incinerated by his qi and blood power.

Not until the headless corpse of the resentful ghost fell did the red glow on Du Yehǔ's body subside, and his face instantly turned pale.

Jiang Wang leaped to Du Yehu's side, skillfully supporting him. "Brother Hu, this..."

Qi and blood, the foundation of human beings. Jiang Wang now condenses Dao Yuan, also starting from the supply of qi and blood. Du Yehu's power just now was burning himself at every moment. He wasn't a martial artist who specialized in martial arts, so he couldn't hold back such an immense amount of qi and blood. In this battle, he would need at least five years to recover.

The first five years of cultivation are long! Not to mention the problem that after a certain age, qi and blood begin to decline. One step slow, every step slow, this may mean he is forever separated from transcendence.

But Du Yehu was still resolute and unwavering. At a life-or-death moment, one couldn't think too much. And the more such subconscious choices, the more they could verify one's true intentions.

"Just a minor thing." Du Yecho secretly adjusted his breath, recovering some energy, and pushed Jiang Wang away with one hand. "This old man hasn't reached the point where he can't walk. Let's go, the situation at Zhonggong must be even more dangerous."

Although Ling He was deeply worried, he knew it wasn't the time to speak much. He shifted Zhao Ru Cheng onto his back and went forward, picking up his own sword from the remains of the resentful spirit. He stood silently beside Du Ye Hu.

He had previously experienced a burning of blood and energy, but only in small amounts, which did not affect his foundation. Therefore, he still had the power to fight for his life.

As the only one among the four who was still completely intact and possessed the strongest combat capability, Jiang Wang naturally had to remain flexible in order to act at any given moment. Thus, he merely drew his sword and walked ahead, showing no intention of lending a hand.

Only Zhao Ru'cheng was still grumbling incessantly: "The eldest brother is still the most thoughtful. That tiger is so clumsy, really! He carried me like a chick, what an embarrassment! If Miss Miaoyu found out, wouldn't my image of bravery be ruined"

Miaoyu is the top courtesan at Sān Fēn Xiāng Qì Lóu, and the most popular woman in Fenglin City's entertainment district. Zhao Ru has already spent thousands of taels of silver at Sān Fēn Xiāng Qì Lóu trying to win her favor, but he hasn't succeeded yet.

Du Yexiao didn't say a word. He wasn't unwilling to beat him up, or at least scold him, but he simply had no energy.

>

"Enough is enough." Jiang Wang said impatiently. "Here, there are only mindless specters and ghosts with chaotic spirits. Who do you want to impress"

"Who knows who's right" Zhao Ruocheng became even more energized. He leaned on Linghe's back, gesticulating wildly: "What if there's a beautiful female ghost hiding somewhere, peeking at me I could have had a wonderful romantic encounter, but now it's all ruined! What a loss for the tiger to bear!"

Du Yexi almost died from illness and suddenly sat up, bursting with a last bit of strength to blow this mouthy fellow away.

Before he exploded, Ling He thrust his sword hilt upwards with a backhand.

“Hiss…” Zhao Rucheng gasped, his arrogance instantly extinguished.

However, beyond that thick curtain of fog, at the center of Xiaolin Town and also in the center of this Nine Palace Formation...

A huge vortex is slowly turning. What this place originally was is unrecognizable, everything dissolved in this silent whirlpool. There's nothing else but the whirlpool. The center of the vortex is a pure black, as if it could draw everyone's gaze into it, no one can escape.

Four cultivators with profound and unhurried auras stood beside the vortex, each brimming with Dao energy. They were all clad in black robes and kept their gazes fixed ahead.

And just ahead of the whirlpool, there was a house that had been smashed to pieces, leaving nothing but one brick wall.

The woman in red leaned languidly against the wall, her expression relaxed.

She was wrapped up tight, yet radiated an undeniable allure. In her hand she held a small, oval mirror. But it didn't reflect her own stunning features; instead, it showed the figures battling the vengeful spirits within the Nine Palaces Array.

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“This year’s disciples at Fenglin City Academy aren’t very impressive. Their sword techniques are decent, though.” The woman in red muttered, flipping her hand to put the mirror away.

“Well, the time has come. If I had known it would be this smooth, I would have taken a longer nap.” The crimson woman yawned as she gracefully walked towards the vortex, “I’m so sleepy...”

As she approached this mysterious vortex, her expression became slightly more serious. She stepped aside and bowed respectfully, "Greetings, Elder."

The four robed monks also bowed to her.

Then, from the thick fog, an old man with white hair emerged. His face was wrinkled like old tree bark, his eyes were cloudy and dim, and he stooped over, even stumbling in his steps.

But he walked step by step, his back straightening inch by inch, and his whole aura was constantly rising.

He ignored the Red-Attire Woman and others, only staring at the vortex as if he were gazing at his lifelong love, his eyes filled with utmost devotion.

By the time he reached the vortex, his aura was as vast and deep as the ocean, pressing down on people so heavily that they could hardly breathe.

The woman in red lowered her head even further.

A white-haired old man gathers his ring and pinky fingers, with his thumb, index, and middle fingers forming a triangle shape covering his chest. He softly chants: "At the bottom of the Forgetful River, in the abyss of Huangquan. Honored Gods return to the world, illuminating humankind."

Then he pulled out a white bone dagger and thrust it straight into his own skull. The whole person fell straight down into the vortex!, there's nothing too important.” Wrapped in a white fox fur coat, Jiang Wuqì resembled a frail jade carving, as if a light tap would shatter it.He used his slender fingers to press the book, and then...