Chapter Fifty-Two: The Stronghold of Dark Sorcery

Yu Youwei was taken aback for a moment, then quickly understood—the woman, seeing her alongside Ning Bai, had mistaken Feng Jing for Ma Liang and, grinning with schadenfreude, assumed the famed hero of All Heroes was actually Ning Mo Fei.

"Ice Phoenix, watch your manners!"

There were plenty of sharp-eyed people present. As the host of the Tianyuan Auction House, Xiang Cunxu was no fool; he recognized Ning Bai immediately and hurriedly intervened. He cupped his hands and apologized, "Third Young Master, my sister is ignorant. Please do not take offense."

A hint of murderous intent flashed across the eternally cold face. Ning Bai spoke icily, "Let this be the last time. If she repeats herself, I’ll cut out her tongue."

Arrogant!

The word almost escaped Xiang Bingfeng's lips, but she dared not utter it. Terror filled her beautiful eyes. She had no doubt that if she dared call him the "Ning family fool" again, this peerless beauty before her would indeed cut out her tongue.

Those standing before Ning Bai instinctively made way, letting him walk to the very front of the line. Yu Youwei quietly followed. As she passed the Xiang siblings, she heard Xiang Cunxu hiss, "Are you courting death? If Ning Bai wants to deal with you, even Second Brother cannot stop him!"

Xiang Bingfeng muttered defiantly, "If he dares lay a hand on a member of the imperial Xiang clan, is the Ning family rebelling?"

"Shut up!" Xiang Cunxu's forehead was furrowed with black lines. In terms of status, Ning Bai—personal disciple of the sect master of the Immortal Chen Sect—stood at least as high as any member of the imperial family. Even if he were to kill a prince or two, the current Emperor would have to swallow his anger with broken teeth. Who was Xiang Bingfeng to him? She was nothing in his eyes.

Fortunately, Ning Bai disdained to strike a woman and chose not to pursue the matter. He strode toward the estate ahead of the others.

The moment they stepped into the estate, the air grew increasingly thick with the stench of decay, yet not a sound could be heard. They moved unhindered to the rear courtyard, only to be blocked by a semi-transparent barrier. With a sweep of his palm, Ning Bai shattered the barrier. Before them appeared a sloping stone path leading down into the mountain’s heart, with a black-armored puppet standing every three steps along the way.

"As expected, remnants of the Nine Nether Hall!"

"And to think they set up a branch in Jiangning Prefecture—do they take us for corpses?"

The cultivators of Jiangning Prefecture chattered disdainfully, none taking the enemy seriously. Only the Ning family disciples and the staff of the Tianyuan Auction House wore grave expressions.

Ning Bai stepped onto the stone path. The first black-armored puppet emitted an inhuman shriek and lunged at him. He thrust his sword viciously at its chest.

The puppet did not evade; it took the sword squarely in the chest, its fist continuing to strike at Ning Bai’s chest. A flash of scarlet light erupted from his body. Ning Bai stood firm; the puppet was flung backwards, toppling two more puppets as it went, a gaping hole now in its chest. Yet all three puppets, including the battered one, surged forward again.

To suffer a sword strike from a cultivator at the Golden Core stage—even if it wasn’t a full-powered blow—and still remain combat-ready was astonishing. Not just the crowd, but even Ning Bai was surprised.

Yu Youwei’s Greenshade Sword unleashed two arcs of azure sword-light, drifting toward the puppet’s eyes with deceptive slowness. With two crisp pops, the puppet’s skullcap burst open, and it toppled stiffly to the ground.

"Nicely done!" Ninth Master Ning gave a thumbs-up in praise.

"Ah, just a fluke," Yu Youwei replied half-heartedly. A puppet must have an energy core, typically located in the chest or head. When Ning Bai’s strike at the chest failed to disable it, she attacked the eyes out of sheer combat instinct. Her sword’s brilliance detonated the energy source hidden within the puppet’s eyes. It was hardly a coincidence, but she had no desire to show off.

"If it wasn’t a fluke, then the Golden Core stage’s attacks are even weaker than a novice’s—what a joke," Xiang Bingfeng said sarcastically.

With a sharp crack, a black-armored puppet that had been grappling with Ning Bai flew over Xiang Bingfeng’s head, its skull shattered by Gui Qi’s sword from behind her.

"If it wasn’t a fluke, you’d be the one dead," Yu Youwei shot her a cool glance, then drifted forward. Inspired by her, Ning Bai began to demolish the puppets’ heads with his bare fists as he advanced.

A look of malice crossed Xiang Bingfeng’s face; she was itching to stab Yu Youwei in the back. Her hand had barely risen when her brother’s warning came: "If you cause trouble, forget about competing in the Ten Prefectures Illusion Demon Battle." She had to drop her hand, teeth clenched in frustration.

At the end of the stone path was another barrier. Ning Bai broke it with a sword strike and darted in, only to stop abruptly. Yu Youwei, following closely, nearly collided with him.

Before them lay a vast square. At its center stood an altar built from skulls, each corner marked by a pillar crowned with a blazing black torch. In the middle of the altar stood a black-robed priest, white beard trailing to the ground, his face hidden behind a silver ghost mask. A black whirlwind circled the altar, yet the priest’s beard stood unmoving, as if cast from iron.

The ritual had reached a critical moment. Nearly a thousand black-robed sorcerers knelt around the altar, seemingly oblivious to the intruders. Only the priest upon the altar cackled, "More fresh blood for you, Peak Master."

Simultaneously, the torches atop the four dragon pillars blazed with dazzling black light, filling the cavern. All the intruding cultivators felt themselves seized by invisible force; their blood and energy surged uncontrollably within.

"What’s happening?" Xiang Bingfeng was the first to lose composure and cry out. If not for the binding darkness, she would have collapsed to the ground.

"Blazing Sun Burns the Heavens!"

With a great shout, Ning Bai erupted in incandescent glory, shining brighter than the summer sun. The black aura was instantly dispelled, and even the black skull altar trembled violently, emitting a chorus of ghostly wails.

The strange energy binding the crowd vanished. Everyone quickly suppressed their churning blood and energy. Yu Youwei, however, felt an immense pull from the altar; her Greenshade Sword almost wrenched itself free from her grasp.

Atop the altar, the black-robed sorcerer in the silver mask suddenly raised his voice, the sound, amplified by the altar, becoming a tangible wave that swept outward. The black-robed sorcerers around the altar leaped up as if electrified, assuming bizarre postures. Nearly half the intruders were caught up as well, mimicking their movements.

"We cannot let the ritual be completed—destroy the altar!" Ning Bai roared, launching the first attack. His move, "A Thousand Miles of Crimson Flame," sent a roaring tide of fire toward the altar.

The black-robed priest countered with a series of black hand seals. Ripples of dark energy spread from each seal, and the crimson flames and all other attacks vanished soundlessly upon contact with the runes.

"There’s a diagram above!" Yu Youwei suddenly shouted.

Ning Bai jerked his head up and saw a vast star nebula carved into the domed ceiling. With a sweep of his hand, he unleashed "Fire Dragon Soars to the Sky." A dragon-shaped wave of fire shot upward, crashing into the center of the nebula diagram without leaving a mark, then broke apart and cascaded down in surging waves.