She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 121

◎Reinforcements from the Demon Realm◎

Now, let us rewind to the moment when the spatial passage was just completed, and Yan Luoyue and her two companions finally returned from the demon realm to the human realm.

The exit naturally led back to Zhan Yunxiao Sword Village.

But almost the instant their feet touched the ground, Yan Luoyue keenly sensed that the atmosphere here had undergone a drastic change.

—Something must have happened.

Exchanging a glance with Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun, Yan Luoyue thought to herself.

Recalling the warning from that Soul-Devouring Demon earlier, her heart sank.

Had the demon realm’s movements truly been so swift? In just three short days, had they already mustered an army to press upon their borders?

Only after scanning the surrounding hundred miles with her spiritual sense did Yan Luoyue confirm that while the cultivators in the Sword Village were all poised for battle, there were no traces of combat nearby. She let out a slight sigh of relief.

This was better than she had imagined—the human realm had already taken preemptive measures against the invasion of the puppet Soul-Devouring Net.

For the three who had witnessed the customs of the snowlands firsthand, the current state of the Sword Village stirred a sense of awe in their hearts.

If, before their journey to the demon realm, Zhan Yunxiao Sword Village had been a harmonious, rustic village with the charm of a countryside retreat—

Then now, the entire village gave the impression that they had reforged their plows into swords and rallied their people into an army.

Those "Uncle Twos," "Auntie Threes," and "Grannies" who had once worn warm, furry hats and smiled amiably, looking as though they’d sit cross-legged on a heated kang to chat and crack sunflower seeds—now they had shed their thick, adorable fur coats, clad only in flowing sword robes.

It was as if hidden blades had emerged from the mountains together. Their auras were razor-sharp, yet harmoniously united.

For a shared purpose, they stood guard over this land like a divine weapon stationed at the remote edges of the snowlands.

Sensing the simultaneous appearance of the trio’s auras, Bu Ye was the first to come forward to greet them.

He too wore a slightly worn sword robe, with two storage pouches hanging at his waist—clearly prepared for travel.

At this moment, the already aloof demeanor of the swordsman seemed frozen in ice.

Yan Luoyue asked him, "What’s going on? What happened?"

"We’re preparing for war," Bu Ye replied succinctly, then handed her a jade slip.

Only after probing the contents with her spiritual sense did Yan Luoyue understand the reason:

Their return—along with the flame—had coincided perfectly with the great mobilization of the cultivation world.

While Yan Luoyue had been in the demon realm searching for the last of the Black Crow’s Cries flame, the other cultivators of the human realm had clearly been fulfilling their own duties.

Suppressing the Hongtong Palace had only been the first step in rallying the human realm’s fighting spirit.

After the fall of Hongtong Palace, almost everyone could smell the iron-and-blood scent hanging in the air.

By this stage, even the least perceptive cultivators understood that some earth-shattering upheaval was about to occur.

—And then, they received a jade slip.

The contents of the jade slip were provided by Ji Ying—that nightmare creature with pale green wings.

Within it was recorded the rise and fall of the demon race over the past several millennia.

The distinction between demons and demonic creatures remained a secret to most of the cultivation world.

Before this, nearly everyone had believed that demonic creatures were native to the demon realm—that they had first conquered their own world before greedily extending their poisonous claws toward the human and demon realms.

But today, a jade slip distributed uniformly by the major sects declared unequivocally: No!

Demonic creatures were not born of the demon realm—they were invasive filth from beyond!

Nor had the demon race ever attacked the human or demon realms. They had fought bloody battles, holding the line to this very day!

As allies, they had a duty to aid their brave demonic brethren. And as native denizens of the cultivation world, they had an even greater responsibility to defend their homeland.

If we cultivators cannot stand forth now, repeating the mistakes of the Demon-Subjugation War three thousand years ago, then the demon race’s desperate struggle for survival will become our tomorrow.

Before the suppression of Hongtong Palace, some might have hesitated:

Was this war truly necessary?

Could we not negotiate peace with the demons?

Could we not continue biding our time, passing the responsibility to the next generation?

But after witnessing the blood wine of Hongtong Palace and their insidious methods of manipulating cultivators, such weak-kneed rhetoric had all but vanished.

And now…

—Those not of our kind must harbor ill intent. The three realms are interconnected—when the lips perish, the teeth grow cold.

With the demon race’s numbers already dwindling to this extent, what peace could humans and demons possibly negotiate with these invaders?

Who would willingly entrust their lives to invaders who shared not a shred of kinship?

Unless they embraced the spirit of fighting with their backs to the river, the courage to sacrifice everything—the withering of the demon race would serve as a dire warning for humans and demons alike!

From this day forth, the official name of demonic creatures was changed to "invasive alien species."

And under this rallying cry, the resolve of the cultivation world grew firmer with each passing day. Their preparations for war grew more thorough by the hour.

After finishing the jade slip’s contents, Yan Luoyue’s gaze drifted downward to the storage pouches at Bu Ye’s waist.

"These are…?" If she wasn’t mistaken, Bu Ye was dressed for travel.

Bu Ye patted the pouches and said calmly, "Supplies."

"The 514 disciples of Zhan Yunxiao Sword Village have been preparing day and night. The moment war breaks out, we will march to the front lines."

"If the snowlands are in peril, we will defend them to the death. If flames of war ignite across the world, we will not stand idly by."

The snowlands were sparsely populated, lacking super sects like the Guiyuan Sect, Hongtong Palace, or Fan Yin Temple.

Even the larger sects like Hanson Sect and Zhan Yunxiao Sword Village were only mid-sized by comparison.

It was only due to their abundance of swordsmen and formidable combat strength that they were elevated in status.

Five hundred disciples—that was nearly a third of Zhan Yunxiao Sword Village’s entire force.

But from the determination in Bu Ye’s expression, it was clear that even if it meant dying on foreign soil, these swordsmen would have no regrets.

There exists a force in this world that surpasses life itself.

It was the reason the Black Crow’s Cries flame had crashed into the Bloody Peaks like a mountain.

It was why the Falling Moon Tree and the Frost-Clad Stone had fought their enemies to this day, sending their incarnations into the human realm.

When Yan Luoyue and her companions (along with the flame) departed the snowlands, Bu Ye personally escorted them to the edge of the village’s defensive line.

Yan Luoyue paused, turning back to gaze at this sect that stood with indomitable spirit.

With complete sincerity, she said to the sword cultivator who stood as straight as a spear:

"When this war is over, Manshuang and I will return to the snowlands to share roasted corn with you all."

Bu Ye smiled faintly. The usually unlucky gambler looked almost boyish when the corners of his lips lifted.

"You're kidding me, right? I came all this way just to eat some roasted corn?"

Bu Ye shook Yan Luoyue's petite frame and declared firmly, "At least get some skewers too."

...

Yan Luoyue made her way back to the Guiyuan Sect from the snow-covered lands.

They passed by Moyun Long, traversed Junxin Bay, journeyed past Dingshan Temple, and skirted around Xuanji Rapids.

Almost every place they passed through carried an air of tension, as if swords were about to be drawn.

Cultivators moved about, their sharp eyes scanning the attire of unfamiliar visitors, while tracking talismans for the Thousand-Faced Demon hung high above the triple-layered city gates.

The entire cultivation world resembled a well-rested young man—stretching his limbs, limbering up, and silently waiting atop the martial arena, ready to draw his sword at the first sound of the gong.

Because of this, when the spatial rift suddenly tore open one day, the expressions of the cultivators who witnessed it first were more surprised than terrified.

News of the impending demon invasion had long been anticipated, and when the war's vanguard finally arrived, their faces even bore a sense of calm resolution.

—This was a battle destined to come. It just so happened to arrive on this day.

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang strode into the main hall, greeting the assembled crowd.

Even now, very few knew the true identities of Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.

The dozen or so gathered in this room were all sect leaders or elders—individuals who had undergone rigorous verification and would sooner die than betray the cultivation world.

As Yan Luoyue walked deeper into the hall, she asked, "What's the current situation?"

At the far end of the hall hung a massive landscape map, twenty zhang long and six zhang wide.

The Guiyuan Sect's sect leader stood before it, his immortal-like figure appearing slender against the vast image.

He pointed to a newly reported location, and a three-dimensional flame symbol flickered to life on the corresponding spot.

"The spatial rift has just opened. So far, only low-level invasive species have entered the human realm."

The sect leader turned slowly, his composed gaze settling on Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.

"Please remain patient for now. We must wait a little longer."

Originally, before the war began, Yan Luoyue had planned to infiltrate the demon realm and execute a decapitation strike against the Puppet Heart-Devouring Net.

But after testing several demonic seals, she failed every time—whether due to some underhanded scheme, that bastard Puppet Heart-Devouring Net had proactively sealed off all passages to the demon realm!

In matters of spatial control, the Puppet Heart-Devouring Net held an innate racial advantage.

Yan Luoyue had even considered forging a temporary, one-way spatial passage herself.

Unexpectedly, halfway through the attempt, the Puppet Heart-Devouring Net blocked it off, nearly trapping her and Wu Manshuang in the void.

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Open the door, you coward! Face me!

You dare trap me and my man’s true forms, but won’t open the door?!

At that moment, Yan Luoyue wished she could snatch Wu Ti’s mouth and attach it to herself.

Likely, after their last encounter, the Puppet Heart-Devouring Net had memorized Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s auras.

For it, this war served to weaken the human and demon realms while culling the demon realm’s surplus invasive species.

But Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s true forms were variables it absolutely refused to permit.

Faced with this dilemma, the human realm’s leaders brainstormed and concluded:

Only when the demonic rift opened wider, releasing higher-level invasive species, would Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s presence in the spatial passage become less conspicuous.

Then, the two could blend in and move upstream against the tide.

The sect leader of the Hehun Sect stepped forward.

She was a woman of breathtaking nobility and beauty, as if perpetually bathed in a soft glow. Every movement carried an air of sacred purity, making it almost impossible to look directly at her.

She smiled at the pair. "For now, only low-level species like Mud-Burrowers are emerging. If you two wish to cross, you’ll need to wait until higher-tier demons like Phosphor Fiends appear in large numbers."

As she spoke, the Hehun Sect leader’s enchanting eyes flickered between Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.

Finally, as if deciding, she fixed her gaze on Yan Luoyue, blinking playfully.

That unapproachable sanctity suddenly rippled with a hint of allure.

The Hehun Sect leader smiled. "This humble one has wandered the mortal realm for so long… yet never once had the honor of embracing the Moonfall Wood."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Oh heavens, look—this stunning beauty is flirting with me!

Wu Manshuang shot the Hehun Sect leader a wary glance and immediately teleported Yan Luoyue to the opposite corner of the hall.

"—Luoyue, she might just want to eat turtle jelly."

Yan Luoyue: "...Fine, as long as she’s not craving snake stew."

Watching the affectionate couple, the Hehun Sect leader covered her mouth with a laugh.

"What a pity. The two of you are already bound together—leaving no room for this humble one."

The lighthearted moment eased the hall’s tension, drawing laughter from those present.

Yan Luoyue turned her gaze back to the towering map, focusing on the flame-marked locations.

"Starview Abode, Soulsever Gorge, Darkcrow City…" She murmured the names, then raised an eyebrow. "If I recall, the one assigned to guard Darkcrow City is—"

Wu Manshuang nodded slightly. "Senior Brother Yuan."

...

At this very moment, within Darkcrow City, three or four spatial rifts had torn open.

From them poured forth hordes of low-level invasive species—Mud-Burrowers, Phlegm-Suckers, Earth-Surge Demons…

Their emergence was like kindling stuffed into a cannon’s barrel.

Yuan Feiyu had already taken to the skies, his sword carving through the enemy ranks. Beside him, another Guiyuan Sect disciple in identical robes drew his blade.

"Senior Brother Yuan, these are just low-level species."

"Mn." Yuan Feiyu acknowledged. "But we mustn’t underestimate them."

With every swing of his sword, dozens—sometimes hundreds—of invasive creatures were cleaved apart.

For a swordsman of Yuan Feiyu’s caliber, slaying these lesser demons required no more effort than blowing away a feather.

Yet even so, after roughly the time it took an incense stick to burn, everyone present could sense the enemy’s numbers swelling instead of thinning.

The junior disciple frowned. "Senior Brother Yuan, just how many of these things are they sending?"

Yuan Feiyu’s voice was resolute. "No matter how many, I’ll cut down every last one."

"Senior Brother Yuan is right. However many you kill, I won’t fall behind."

The sword cultivator junior brother first chuckled, then sighed. "These abominations keep coming endlessly... it’s like they’re expendable."

Yuan Feiyu corrected him, "They are expendable."

As a direct disciple of the Sword Peak’s master, Yuan Feiyu knew more than most.

For instance, most of the invading abominations recorded in the demonic lineage charts possessed very faint emotions—and those they did have were overwhelmingly negative.

Killing, feeding, torment, and bloodshed... these were the stimuli that set their veins ablaze.

This also explained, from another angle, why these abominations were so fervently dedicated to invading other worlds.

For their species, battle was simply their way of life.

Their entire societal structure was built upon internal strife and the conquest of other realms.

Yuan Feiyu once heard Junior Sister Dayan describe it with chilling accuracy—she called their society a "war-shaped civilization."

No one knew just how many of these abominations the demonic realm had stockpiled over the years.

Standing on the frontlines, Yuan Feiyu could only watch as an endless tide of low-tier abominations spewed forth from the spatial rifts.

It was as if the unseen hand behind it all had resolved to exhaust every last reserve accumulated over the past three millennia in this single battle.

Beside him, his junior brother muttered under his breath, "Damn, are they trying to bankrupt themselves?"

If these abominations were converted into spirit pearls, they could sustain a sword cultivator for years!

...

Back ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‍at the main hall, the group had unknowingly gathered before the war map.

Listening to the live updates transmitted via the communication stones, the Guiyuan Sect’s sect master swiftly marked several more flames over Darkcrow City and Soulsever Gorge.

The number of flames represented the scale of the abominations’ assault—and the intensity of the battle.

Given the invaders’ ruthless, overwhelming advance, it was clear that while no formal negotiations had ever taken place between the human and demonic realms, an unspoken consensus had been reached—this was the final battle.

In this war, only one side would survive.

Yan Luoyue frowned. "A demonic tide tactic."

It was obvious that the initial spatial rifts opened by the Puppet-Devouring Net were highly concentrated.

For example, five rifts had appeared near Darkcrow City alone.

Similarly, four each had emerged at Soulsever Gorge and Starwatch Residence.

In other words, the enemy’s strategy was to focus their forces, overwhelm these key locations, and secure strongholds.

Yan Luoyue had no doubt that once Darkcrow City, Soulsever Gorge, and Starwatch Residence fell, the abominations would immediately relocate numerous broodmothers to begin mass production.

The Guiyuan Sect’s master gave a slight nod, clearly recognizing their intent.

He promptly mobilized reinforcements from nearby regions.

But he was careful—

He would rather summon more distant cultivators than deplete local garrisons, ensuring at least two-thirds of the stationed forces remained in place.

...

Returning to Darkcrow City.

After nearly half an hour of relentless combat, the sword cultivator junior brother’s tone had grown noticeably impatient.

As a disciple of the Guiyuan Sect’s Sword Peak, his endurance and physical prowess were among the finest of his cultivation level.

He had endured the Sword Peak’s grueling formations and survived life-or-death trials...

Yet what unsettled him now was something else entirely.

"These damned things..." he muttered, brows furrowed. "Are they truly endless?"

Yuan Feiyu shook his head slightly. "Steady your mind."

The junior brother swung his blade again, felling a dozen mud-burrowers in one stroke.

"Senior Brother, I’m not afraid of a bloodbath—slaughtering these weaklings is nothing. But look around... the others are starting to falter."

Among all cultivation paths, sword cultivators were undoubtedly the most tenacious and iron-willed.

Battle was their whetstone, their swordplay a battle hymn. To triumph against the odds, drenched in blood till the very end—this was their creed.

But for other cultivators, especially the younger locals who had never experienced a demonic war, this was nothing like the battles they had imagined.

The pressure they faced wasn’t spiritual or physical—it was psychological.

Low-tier abominations were easy to kill. Even a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator could dispatch one with a single spell.

But for even the most seasoned warriors, the ceaseless tide felt like a waking nightmare.

A single sword strike might cleave through a hundred abominations—

Yet in moments, another hundred, a thousand, even ten thousand would take their place.

Worse still, even as the corpses piled into a grotesque carpet of gore, the fresh waves showed no fear.

They burrowed into the carnage—not to hide, but to feast upon their own fallen kin.

Among the spellcasters, someone paled and whispered, "I’m going to be sick."

Another voice rasped, "These... these monsters! These beasts!"

Killing one cockroach was different from killing ten. freёweɓnovel.com

And killing a hundred was nothing like slaughtering a thousand.

Perhaps after ten thousand, their nerves would go numb.

But now, the younger cultivators’ first instinct was to retch.

Yuan Feiyu glanced at their hollow expressions and sighed inwardly.

Now he understood why, in the war plans, every city had been assigned a Nascent Soul cultivator—yet the sect leaders strictly forbade their early involvement.

In fact, their orders had been clear: send the low-ranking cultivators first, especially the untested youths who had never fought at the Demon-Sealing Battle or the Siege of Hongtong Palace.

—Because these were the ones who needed tempering the most.

If they didn’t adapt to this brutality now, their losses later would be far worse.

Just as Yuan Feiyu lost himself in these thoughts, another disturbance rippled through the ranks.

A spellcaster suddenly froze, his hands dropping mid-incantation as he stared blankly at the battlefield.

The invading abominations were hideous in life—covered in coarse fur and jagged scales, their forms grotesque and twisted.

Yet when they lost their lives—chopped in half, buried in earth, burned by fire, stabbed through the heart by icy blades, or crushed into segments by boulders—only to be trampled into bloody pulp by the swarming aberrant creatures, what met the eyes was flesh as crimson as that of humans.

Realizing this, the spellcaster felt as though his heart had been violently seized, skipping a beat in that instant.

These… these were living beings too, existing in this world.

As this thought crossed his mind, numbness clouded his gaze. His fingers loosened involuntarily, letting the golden bell slip from his grasp and plummet to the ground.

The bell struck the blood-soaked mire with a crisp, melodious chime, yet it failed to stir even the slightest reaction from him.

He merely stared blankly into the distance, his gaze piercing through the sea of gore.

In his vision, countless swaying arms seemed to sprout from the carpet of blood and flesh beneath his feet.

They beckoned to him, as if whispering: Come, come…

The arms drew closer and closer, until they seized his ankles, dragging him down into the abyss of carnation!

At the same time, he wasn’t the only one whose eyes turned vacant, expression numb, as they began marching toward the enemy lines.

Among the hundreds of cultivators—talisman masters, artifact forgers, alchemists, formation experts, and even a handful of swordsmen—this eerie shift did not go unnoticed.

Just as they were about to cross their own defensive line and step into the range of the aberrant creatures, a clear, resonant sword chime suddenly rang out across the battlefield, like celestial music.

Following the sound, the crowd saw Yuan Feiyu standing with his sword raised upright.

Fresh blood still dripped from the blade, streaming down its silver-white edge.

His gaze was as unyielding as iron as he flicked the sword with his fingers, sending tremors through the spiritual senses of everyone present.

"Snap out of it!" Yuan Feiyu commanded sharply.

Like a trickle of ice water pouring down their skulls, the dazed cultivators shuddered back to awareness.

"Ah—what happened to me?"

"Wait, where’s my artifact?"

"Wasn’t I guarding the formation just now? How did I end up here?"

Yuan Feiyu didn’t answer.

Instead, his figure darted like a fleeting shadow through the hordes of low-level aberrants, his sword robes disappearing amidst the dull gray swarm.

"—Senior Brother Yuan?!"

In the next instant, a brilliant sword light erupted from the heart of the enemy forces, soaring into the sky like lightning.

Along with it emerged Yuan Feiyu, his blade skewering a pale gray fiend.

Though his expression remained stern and his tone icy, his mere presence at that moment was enough to instill a sense of security.

"You lost control of your minds and fell prey to the Phantom Fiend’s illusions."

Someone, still disoriented, muttered reflexively, "...Phantom Fiend?"

Yuan Feiyu turned his head slightly and snorted. "After this battle, go play some games at the arcade. One round of Bloodfall on Southern Mountain will teach you—ambushing from within low-level aberrants is the Phantom Fiend’s signature tactic."

Everyone: "...Oh."

A few who had played the game before immediately recalled:

"Ah, right! I’ve been tricked like that in-game!"

Others had never set foot in an arcade but knew it was run by the Guiyuan Sect.

So while they were grateful for Yuan Feiyu’s intervention, a tiny, nagging suspicion arose—just a tiny one.

...Ahem, you’re not just advertising your sect’s products, are you?

Yuan Feiyu, however, maintained an air of absolute righteousness as he lectured:

"Never underestimate the enemy. Their attacks are far more insidious than they appear."

"Like thorns hidden in mud—if you let your guard down, the next thing piercing your heart will be them!"

With this wake-up call, clarity returned to the battlefield.

Even the most inexperienced cultivators now understood that no matter how easily the low-level aberrants fell, cunning predators lurked among them.

Distraction could cost them their lives.

The atmosphere tightened instantly.

One grateful voice called out, "Thank you, Junior Sword Lord Yuan!"

Yuan Feiyu: "..."

His face darkened. "Senior. Call me Senior Sword Lord Yuan or Senior Brother Yuan—but it must be Senior!"

As the cultivators refocused on the battle, a fellow swordsman sidled up to Yuan Feiyu with a grin, nudging his shoulder.

"Senior Brother Yuan, care to share where you got the money for arcade games?"

They were all swordsmen—they knew each other’s financial struggles.

Every month’s allowance went into sword materials, repairs, or aesthetic enhancements.

...If memory served, Senior Brother Yuan even wore patched socks!

So come on, spill—where did you scrape together the cash for gaming? And shouldn’t the spoils be shared?

Yuan Feiyu smirked, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes.

"When the new console launched, Junior Sister Yan Luoyue gifted me a custom edition."

The swordsman: "..."

Damn, I’m jealous!

He lowered his voice. "Senior Brother, you kept this from us? Let us have a turn!"

Yuan Feiyu held up a hand. "Pay up."

The junior gritted his teeth. "A third of the arcade’s price?"

Yuan Feiyu nodded. "A third of the arcade’s price."

"Deal!"

Having sealed this underhanded transaction, the junior suddenly grinned wider, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Yuan Feiyu shot him a look. "Out with it."

The junior burst into laughter as he darted away:

"Senior Brother Yuan, now I get why you don’t mind fighting these low-level aberrants—well, at least your sword actually makes them fall. Beats sparring with Junior Sister Yan, doesn’t it?"

Yuan Feiyu: "..."

His next sword strike grazed the junior’s scalp, shearing off a lock of hair.

It was common knowledge that Senior Brother Yuan had two sore spots:

First, being called "Junior" anything.

And second? Those ten days and nights he spent giving Yan Luoyue what amounted to a massage with his sword!

...

The battle raged on, and soon, the foresight of the Guiyuan Sect’s leader—who had deployed only a third of available reinforcements—became apparent.

Within a day, the Puppet’s Net of Carnal Desires tore open several new spatial rifts.

This time, they emerged at a measured distance from the first wave—neither too close nor too far.

The scale and number of these second-wave rifts matched the first in every way.

It was clear that if they hadn’t kept their composure and ordered most cultivators to hold their positions, these spots might have been overrun by the invading aberrations during the second wave of attacks.

In the main hall, Yan Luoyue sighed inwardly upon receiving the news. Gazing at the newly ignited flames on the map, she praised, "The Sect Leader’s foresight is truly remarkable."

"Not at all," the Sect Leader replied, stroking his thin beard. "They’ve simply used this tactic before."

He gave Yan Luoyue a serene smile and quoted, "As the saying goes, ‘How many tricks can beasts and monsters really have?’"

Yan Luoyue raised an eyebrow playfully and finished, "Only enough to amuse us."

After staring at the map for a while, Yan Luoyue voiced a crucial question—one that many on the battlefield were wondering at that very moment.

"In your opinion… just how many of them are there in total?"

The Sect Leader shook his head slightly, his answer chilling.

"Shoulder to shoulder, countless beyond measure."

Yan Luoyue was taken aback. "Last time I went with Wu Manshuang, they filled an entire mountain."

And yet, there hadn’t been many aberrations near that mountain. While she believed their numbers were vast, this many…?

The Sect Leader suddenly asked an unexpected question, "Did the two of you go underground that time?"

What? Yan Luoyue thought for a moment, then her expression shifted.

"Underground… is also full of them?"

She recalled that the entrance she and Wu Manshuang had used was near a river of magma.

If they lived underground, that meant dwelling near scorching heat—how could they survive in such stifling conditions?

But soon, realization struck her.

Of course. These aberrations had already hollowed out a mountain, constructing a pyramid-like monstrosity within.

Like termites, it wouldn’t be strange for them to burrow nests underground.

And hadn’t the broodmothers thrived in the sweltering depths of the mountain’s base?

Privately, Yan Luoyue suspected that the aberrations’ original world must have been brutally harsh.

That was why their vitality was so tenacious, their diet so indiscriminate.

Ordinary extreme environments couldn’t even faze them—these creatures only died when killed.

With that thought, Yan Luoyue nodded to herself, beginning to understand the origins of the war in the demon realm.

"In the past twenty years… their population must have reached its limit."

That was why the Puppet’s Love-Devouring Net had invaded the demon realm two decades ago.

One of their goals was to use war to cull the excess aberrations.

...

In Dark Crow City, the battle raged on without pause.

From above, the city now blazed with vivid, unsettling hues.

Every inch of soil was soaked in blood, spreading across the land for miles like a sinister flower nourished by death.

The junior sword cultivator moved closer to Yuan Feiyu and whispered, "Senior Brother Yuan, these aberrations are growing stronger—this isn’t a good sign."

Yuan Feiyu’s expression darkened. He was well aware of the situation.

"Because they have more of their own corpses to feed on."

Now, the newly emerged aberrations weren’t even rushing to fight.

These low-tier creatures, eyes gleaming with hunger, advanced leisurely, feasting as they went.

Yuan Feiyu shook his head slightly. "But that’s not what worries me the most."

What truly troubled him were the countless aberration corpses littering the battlefield.

Ever since Yin Wangyou proposed the Demon Genealogy Theory, scholars had expanded upon it.

The cultivation world now widely believed that aberrations evolved based on their diet and environment.

For example, a mud-burrower might have four or five evolutionary paths.

But if it fed not on its own kind but on a corpse demon, it was more likely to evolve into a plague demon.

If it consumed a human sword cultivator, its chances of becoming a bladebone demon increased.

Yuan Feiyu murmured, "With casualties on this scale… plague demons are the likeliest to emerge."

The miasma they emitted didn’t just affect mortals—it was also deadly to low-level cultivators.

Acting decisively, Yuan Feiyu divided the cultivators into two groups.

The first, led by sword cultivators, would focus on eliminating aberrations emerging from the spatial rifts.

The second, spearheaded by spell cultivators with support from formation masters and talisman specialists, would handle the corpses.

The latter task seemed simple, but the workload was far from easy.

Take corpse disposal, for instance: spell cultivators could incinerate them, but merely charring the bodies wasn’t enough—that would just provide the aberrations with a meal.

They had to be reduced to ashes.

As they worked, someone cursed the aberrations’ ancestors—well, cursing the broodmothers would suffice.

"Since when do we have to fight both the living and the dead? Smash their ancestors to paste!"

Yuan Feiyu’s fears soon proved justified.

Before long, news arrived that mortals downstream of Dark Crow City were falling ill in droves.

The corpses of invading aberrations were filthy, emitting a foul demonic miasma.

To cultivators, the stench was merely unpleasant, but mortals couldn’t endure it.

Yuan Feiyu frowned upon hearing the report. "The water downstream is contaminated by corpses?"

No, it hadn’t even been two days—water pollution wouldn’t spread that quickly.

Then it struck him. "It’s the wind…"

With so many aberrations slain, the wind carried traces of miasma, and mortal bodies couldn’t withstand it.

As cultivators, they were prepared to die in battle.

But dragging mortals into this… Yuan Feiyu inwardly shook his head. This tactic was ruthlessly cruel.

So far, only low-tier aberrations had perished.

When higher-tier aberrations died, their corpses would likely have an even greater impact on mortals.

Without hesitation, Yuan Feiyu dispatched a team of formation masters to set up protective arrays for the mortals.

But this only made balancing the situation harder—

The formation masters, prioritizing mortal safety, would want the miasma diluted, meaning the sword cultivators’ slaughter had to slow.

Yet if the sword cultivators killed fewer aberrations, the creatures would gorge themselves, evolving faster and becoming deadlier.

So the sword cultivators needed the spell cultivators to dispose of corpses quickly.

But the spell cultivators faced their own dilemma: the formation masters, who could’ve assisted, were now largely reassigned!

Thus, all three groups were trapped on the same precarious tightrope, leaving them in an impossible bind.

Just as Yuan Feiyu frowned, pondering how to break the deadlock, a voice suddenly rang out in the distance.

"—We’re here! We’ve arrived!"

Yuan Feiyu suddenly turned his head to see a slender little girl sprinting swiftly toward the battlefield.

Her eyes sparkled like dewdrops, and the pointed ears atop her head twitched a few times, looking incredibly soft.

…A Tibetan antelope demon?

The thought flashed through Yuan Feiyu’s mind for only a second.

The next moment, Pao Lulu swept past like a gust of wind, effortlessly weaving through hundreds of burrowing mud creatures before plunging straight into the heart of the battlefield!

Pao Lulu planted herself proudly in front of Yuan Feiyu, hands on her hips, and declared loudly, "Hold on a little longer—reinforcements from the demon realm are here!"

Several miles behind her, though slower to arrive, was an overwhelming tide of demons.

They had brought with them the most voracious vulture demons, an immense swarm of cockroach demons, formidable water fly demons, and…

"Plus 100,000 larvae from the fly demon clan—oh, you know what those are, right? Maggots!"

Yuan Feiyu: "…"

His face remained composed, but his back prickled with goosebumps at the mention of that lineup.

Before he could even ask, "What exactly are you here for?" Pao Lulu pointed at the horde of monsters and bounced excitedly, shouting:

"We’re here to help you deal with these abominations!"

"—Hmph! You like to eat, huh? Evolve by devouring, huh? Well, we demons will show you that you’re not the only ones who can feast!"

Yuan Feiyu: "…"

Well, he got it now. The demon realm’s "reinforcements" for the human world were essentially an endless wave of gluttons.

This was truly…

A broad grin spread across Yuan Feiyu’s face. "Thank you. We need this. Desperately."