Mortal: I have a Spirit Gathering Cauldron

In the cold night and biting wind of the Gobi Desert.

The dark red array of light, like solidified blood jade, divided the entire sandy land into two worlds, one inside and one outside. The wind swept the fine sand across the ground, making a soft, mournful sound, like the most silent accompaniment in the world.

No one expected that the anomaly would erupt without warning at such a moment.

There was no warning, not even the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy.

Just as Elder Hu was concentrating on adjusting the runes on the array plate and trying to strengthen the array, a dark shadow suddenly approached!

Huanglong moved.

His movements were as swift as a ghost, and his originally honest face was expressionless, except for his eyes, which were as cold as a deep pool in the Gobi Desert.

"Pfft—"

With a soft, almost inaudible thud, the dagger pierced Old Hu's back with perfect accuracy.

The dagger was small, no more than the length of a palm, and entirely black, devoid of any spiritual energy fluctuations, resembling a piece of ordinary iron. However, its blade was coated with a layer of eerie blue liquid, which gleamed strangely under the reflection of the dark red light shield.

Spirit-Piercing Blade. An assassination weapon specifically designed to break through a cultivator's spiritual energy shield. Its forging method is ancient, and only some ancient families in the far west still retain the method. Its characteristic is that it can easily pierce through a cultivator's spiritual energy shield.

Huang Long held the dagger steadily, and the dagger pierced into Old Hu's lower back from the left side, diagonally upward through the ribs, and aimed straight at his heart.

Old Hu grunted.

The sound wasn't loud, but everyone inside and outside the formation heard it.

His body suddenly erupted with a powerful spiritual force, and golden spiritual light exploded from his body, forming a circular shockwave that sent the yellow dragon behind him flying.

Huang Long was sent flying several feet backward, crashing to the ground and rolling twice, a trickle of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth. But he quickly got up, dusted himself off, and his expression changed from honest to an eerie calm.

Lin Xingjian's pupils contracted sharply, and his reaction was incredibly swift.

The moment Old Hu unleashed his spiritual power, he conjured a small silver shield. The shield was only the size of a palm, spinning rapidly and expanding to a diameter of two feet, blocking the way between him and Old Hu.

The flying sword returned to his hand, its light flickering as he warily scanned his surroundings.

His gaze fell on Huang Long, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

"Huang Long, are you crazy?" Lin Xingjian's voice was filled with disbelief, as well as a chilling fear of betrayal.

Huang Long wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, slowly raised his head, and grinned at Lin Xingjian.

"Mad?" He repeated the word in a low voice, as if savoring it, his laughter hoarse and grating. "Heh... Back when you Lin family scions treated me like a caged beast, wantonly toying with and trampling on my dignity, I, Huang Long, had already gone mad!"

He gripped the ghost-head broadsword tightly, the spiritual light on the blade flickering, casting an unpredictable shadow on his face.

"I am also a dignified cultivator, not a slave kept by your Lin family, much less livestock for your amusement!"

Lin Xingjian's face turned ashen, his lips trembled, and he finally managed to squeeze out only one sentence: "Huang Long, do you know what you're doing? What benefits did Jin Nantian give you?"

"Benefits?" Huang Long tilted his head. "No benefits. Jin Nantian didn't give me any benefits. He just said one thing to me decades ago—'Do you want to be a slave for the rest of your life?'"

Lin Xingjian's hand holding the flying sword was trembling slightly.

Huang Long said no more. He raised his ghost-head broadsword high, its blade flashing like a bolt of lightning, and slashed towards Elder Hu.

"Bingcheng! Hold him off!" Lin Xingjian shouted sternly.

Lin Bingcheng snapped out of his shock, his figure flashing as he stood in front of Huang Long. The emerald jade pendant emitted a soft green light, transforming into a shield of light that blocked the slash of the ghost-headed broadsword.

"clang--"

Swords and shields clashed, sparks flying.

Lin Bingcheng was knocked back two steps, but quickly regained his footing. He took out a cyan flying sword from his sleeve, its light like a rainbow, and engaged Huang Long in battle. The two were evenly matched, one with fierce saber techniques and the other with agile swordsmanship, and for a time they were evenly matched.

Lin Xingjian didn't offer to help. He turned around and squatted down next to Old Hu.

Old Hu knelt on the ground, the dagger still embedded in his back, blood gushing from the wound, staining his gray robe red and pooling into a small dark red puddle on the sand.

But his hands remained firmly supporting the array plate, his withered fingers moving slowly and steadily across it, maintaining the array's operation. The dark red light barrier trembled slightly, but did not collapse.

"Old Hu, are you alright?" Lin Xingjian's voice was very low, only the two of them could hear it.

Old Hu raised his head and glanced at him. There was no pain or fear on that withered face, only a calmness.

"Young Master," Elder Hu transmitted his voice weakly, "Things are hopeless right now, you must find a chance to escape. I can still maintain the formation for a while longer."

Lin Xingjian's lips moved, his eyes slightly reddening: "Old Hu, you..."

"Young Master, let's go quickly." Old Hu interrupted him, his tone in the telepathic transmission leaving no room for doubt, "This old servant doesn't have much time left anyway. Being able to serve you one last time is enough to repay the old sect leader's great kindness."

His voice was very soft, as if he were talking about something trivial.

Lin Xingjian remained silent.

The silence lasted less than two breaths. He gritted his teeth and took out a palm-sized flying boat from his storage bag. The flying boat grew larger as it faced the wind, transforming into a small boat about ten feet long, entirely silver-white, its surface engraved with acceleration array patterns.

"Take care, Mr. Hu."

Lin Xingjian leaped onto the flying boat, channeling his spiritual power into it. The flying boat transformed into a streak of silver light and soared into the sky towards the Wangshui Kingdom.

Lin Bingcheng, who was locked in combat with Huang Long, saw the silver light disappear into the horizon and his expression changed for a moment. His sword strike faltered slightly, and Huang Long's ghost-headed broadsword seized the opportunity, slashing at his left shoulder. His protective aura was shattered, leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound on his shoulder.

Lin Bingcheng groaned, using the force to drift backward several feet, clutching his shoulder, his face deathly pale.

Huang Long did not give chase. He stood there, his ghost-headed broadsword slung over his shoulder, and spat in the direction where the silver light had disappeared.

"Heh heh, so this is the Lin family." His voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone present to hear clearly. "When disaster strikes, everyone flies away, even abandoning their old servants and clansmen who have followed them for decades."

Lin Bingcheng remained silent.

His face was pale, whether from the wound on his shoulder or from Huang Long's words, it was hard to tell. He glanced in the direction of Elder Hu, then at the silver light that had disappeared from the sky, and gritted his teeth.

Then he summoned a flying sword, stepped onto it, and fled in another direction.

The light was swift, disappearing into the night in the blink of an eye.

Huang Long did not give chase.

He glanced in the direction where Lin Bingcheng had disappeared, then at Elder Hu, and finally fixed his gaze on Jin Nantian inside the formation.