Chapter 138: The Asura Death-Trap Formation

Across the eight battlefields, the combatants of the Asura Mansion, seeing thousands of black needles descending once more, scrambled in a panic. Fortunately, they were now prepared; every one of them condensed their spiritual energy to form protective barriers, waving their weapons incessantly to parry the onslaught.

In the end, this volley of black needles claimed only about two thousand lives from the Asura Mansion’s ranks—mostly those with insufficient cultivation whose protective barriers were pierced, causing the needles to enter their bodies and kill them instantly. Seeing this result, the upper echelons of the Asura Mansion breathed a tentative sigh of relief, though their expressions remained grim. After all, the first wave of the surprise poison needle attack had cost them nearly ten thousand lives.

As for the Puppet Sect, they had long anticipated the low casualty count caused by this second wave of needles. They knew this trump card was only effective when used by surprise; once the enemy was prepared, its impact was minimal. However, the psychological intimidation Tai Shizheng aimed to achieve had been realized. He intended to force the Asura Mansion to exhaust their spiritual energy on defense while they engaged in battle against his own unrestrained forces.

Following these two waves of needle attacks, the momentum of the battle had leveled out once more. As the fighting resumed, it unfolded exactly as Tai Shizheng had predicted. Every combatant from the Asura Mansion, regardless of their cultivation level, was forced to painstakingly maintain their protective spiritual barriers while simultaneously fending off the desperate counterattacks of the Puppet Sect. Consequently, before long, the tide on all eight battlefields turned, with the Asura Mansion gradually faltering and falling into a disadvantageous position.

Although none of the Asura Mansion members lacked spirit-replenishing pills, the constant drain meant that their resources would eventually run dry. This strategy was not sustainable; it could merely prolong their inevitable decline.

...

At this moment, a massive force of no fewer than forty thousand troops was racing toward the eight battlefields from the eastern part of the Central Region. Simultaneously, more than sixty thousand reinforcements had gathered within the Asura Mansion and were marching toward the front lines. As the conflict escalated to this point, excluding their true trump cards and foundational secrets, both major factions had effectively emptied their entire reserves into the fray.

Beyond the two warring parties, various factions across every region of the continent were also mobilizing their troops, preparing for action. As for Xiu Ji, Xiu Sihai, and the others who had been forced to instigate the conflict, they followed the instructions of the mastermind, Gu Xiaopang, and spent the night traveling to various distant regions, where they went deep into hiding.

In a private residence within the central area of the Southern Region, Gu Xiaopang, Bai Ling’er, Puyang De, and Gongyang Tai were gathered in the northern reception hall, protected by an isolation formation.

"Young Master, I am truly convinced now."
"Indeed, I must admit it as well. There is no denying it."
"Old Pu, it seems we really are getting old. These youngsters today..."
"That’s just you, old man. I’m not old. Besides, do you think every young person is as monstrously talented as our Young Master?"

Gu Xiaopang, who was distracted by news of the great battle on his jade slip, suddenly found himself the target of their banter, being labeled a "monster" by the two old eccentrics. His face darkened, which only served to amuse Bai Ling’er.

To be fair, while Puyang De and Gongyang Tai were both formidable experts of the Transformation Spirit Realm and had been subdued by Gu Xiaopang, it was only at this moment that they were truly won over. Having learned, bit by bit, how these two major powers had offended their Young Master, how he had meticulously crafted his revenge, how he had guided the conflict to this point, and knowing the further schemes he had yet to unleash, they were shaken to their cores. It took them a long time to recover from the shock. This didn't even account for the fact that, while dismantling the two major factions, Gu Xiaopang had also thoroughly liquidated the Southern Region branch of the Death-Blow Pavilion.

A single person—a youth who had only just reached adulthood—had managed to manipulate three powerhouse-level factions that had offended him, either directly or indirectly, into a inescapable trap. It was no wonder they sighed at their own age and felt compelled to bow down in genuine admiration before their Young Master. Even the Supreme Elder, Nangong Hongbo, who was hidden in the high clouds above, felt a deep sense of awe as he watched the battle evolve.

In the main assembly hall of the Misty Sect, the two Supreme Elders, the Sect Master, and the leaders of various peaks and pavilions had been in continuous discussion for two days, keeping a close watch on the distant carnage.

"Old Five, stop wearing such a gloomy face. Your boy is clever; he has distanced himself perfectly."
"Indeed. He is worthy of being our Young Sect Master. Such a display—tsk, tsk."
"I am filled with nothing but admiration."
"That said, we cannot blame the brat. Who told the Asura Mansion to repeatedly send assassins after him? The Puppet Sect was even more outrageous—daring to seize spiritual essence from his father!"
"And what about the Death-Blow Pavilion? According to the Supreme Elder, this brat has forcibly incorporated their Southern Region branch into his own service?!"
"Who would have thought? This boy lives on the edge. Didn't he charge straight into the violent thunderclouds above the Boundary Sea last time?"
"Alas, poor Supreme Elder. Following this brat around, I wonder if his heart can take it."

More than a dozen old men grumbled and complained, their chatter never-ending.

...

That night, the remaining reinforcements from both sides finally arrived. The leaders of the two factions, already fueled by true rage, did not hesitate to commit them to the eight battlefields, expanding the war zone by over a thousand miles. Although it was night, the vast battlefield was illuminated as bright as day.

Upon entering the fray, the new reinforcements bypassed any tentative probing and immediately unleashed their most lethal techniques. The Puppet Sect's forty thousand fresh troops deployed nearly forty thousand puppets of various grades without a word, while the Asura Mansion's sixty thousand reinforcements instantly consumed Asura Pills, filling the air with a thick, suffocating cloud of baleful qi that refused to dissipate.

A new, more intensified round of slaughter began. Among the countless spectators in the distance, those with lower cultivation retreated to the very back, retching until they felt their insides would turn out. The baleful energy was simply too overwhelming; the scene was too tragic.

Corpses littered the ground, severed limbs were scattered everywhere, and decapitated heads rolled in the dirt. The earth was stained black by vast amounts of crimson blood, and the remnants of countless weapons reflected the firelight and the eerie, blinding flashes of martial techniques.

As the battle reached this stage, dozens of factions across the continent tacitly agreed that the time had come and began to move. Large armies started pressing toward the Asura Mansion’s battlefields in the Southern Region, each led by Transformation Spirit Realm experts, with several Tribulation Transcendence Realm experts present as well. Whether or not hidden Great Completion Realm ancestors were lurking in the shadows remained unknown.

The battle raged until dawn. In the distance, the clouds in the high sky turned a deep, blood-red, as if reflecting the tragedy of the war. The eight massive battlefields looked truly like eight circles of an Asura hell, leaving the countless spectators in stunned, prolonged silence.

"Tai Shizheng, are you satisfied now?!"
"Do you still want to—or dare to—continue fighting?"
"Hmph, I must have been blind to engage in such a decisive battle with a shameless, bottom-feeding group like the Asura Mansion."
"But you old dog, don't get cocky. You haven't gained any advantage in this fight either."
"Yet, you old scoundrel, if you think I’m going to retreat, keep dreaming!"
"Hmph, you refuse a kindness!"
"Tai Shizheng, your Grandfather Xiu gave you a chance. Since you don't cherish it, don't blame me for being ruthless!"
"Men, form the Asura Death-Command Formation!"
"Yes!"

"The Asura Death-Command Formation?! Oh no!"
"All Puppet Sect troops, listen to my orders: Retreat! Retreat immediately! Fall back at least a thousand miles!"
"Hurry! Hurry!"
"Trying to run? Heh, it's too late!"

As soon as the order from the Asura Mansion’s master, Xiu Binggan, was issued, the remaining thirty thousand Asura Mansion troops began to shift their positions. With practiced precision, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, lining up in an orderly fashion. Across all eight battlefields, observers were shocked to see that the Asura Mansion troops had formed eight massive blade-shaped formations, their tips pointing toward the sky and their edges aimed directly at the Puppet Sect.

The endless baleful, bloody energy permeating the battlefield began to swirl like a vortex, gathering with increasing speed toward the eight giant blade formations. The momentum and pressure emanating from these blades surged at an alarming rate.

"The Asura Death-Command Formation? Did I hear that right?"
"You heard correctly. I heard that over a thousand years ago, the Asura Mansion used this formation to forcibly cripple the Beast King Sect, a top-tier second-rate power."
"Is this formation truly that powerful?"
"In normal times, it’s just a display, with no special power."
"But if it is used on a battlefield that has already become an Asura hell, thick with concentrated baleful qi, it is amplified dozens of times—enough to tear the heavens apart."
"Ah? That powerful?"
"Yes, this is the foundation of the Asura Mansion’s confidence in starting this war, and this strength is certainly not something the Puppet Sect’s poison needles can compare to."

As Tai Shizheng and the high-ranking members of the Puppet Sect turned pale and frantically urged their subordinates to retreat, countless spectators recalled the terrifying legends of the Asura Death-Command Formation, which had not appeared for a millennium.

Just as Tai Shizheng was filled with inexplicable regret, and as the spectators watched with wide eyes, the eight giant blades moved. Or rather, the eight giant blades of condensed baleful blood above the formations moved. Like a giant swinging a weapon, they descended with slow, earth-shaking momentum, striking down toward the fleeing Puppet Sect forces.

Wherever the massive baleful blade-light passed, the solid space shattered inch by inch. The rampaging spatial turbulence was forcibly enveloped by the bloody blade-light, continuing its relentless, violent forward strike.

"Stop, stop! No!"

Amidst Tai Shizheng’s agonized, near-sobbing cry, eight high-level auras flashed out from the Puppet Sect's leadership. They moved with lightning speed, catching up to the rear of the retreating army and instantly casting out dozens of high-level puppets to block the incoming blade-light with everything they had.

*Clang, clang, clang...*
*Argh...*

The chilling, metallic clashing and the screams of agony echoed endlessly for a full quarter-hour. Even with eight Transformation Spirit Realm experts and dozens of puppets—at the Transformation Spirit or Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul realm—blocking the way, the retreating Puppet Sect troops suffered heavy casualties. More than a third—nearly twenty thousand—perished under the brutal strike of the eight blood-stained blades, even after they had used their own personal puppets to shield their backs.

Not to mention them, even the eight Transformation Spirit experts who faced the brunt of the strike had their internal energy destabilized, with some beginning to vomit blood. As for the dozens of puppets they had thrown to the front, eighty percent were completely destroyed, and the remaining twenty percent were riddled with damage.