Yan Zhengping's Killing Intent

Sensing the terrifying energy hammering the barrier, Song Wen felt like a solitary skiff tossed upon the roaring waves of a vast ocean, liable to be swallowed by the deep abyss at any moment.

The strength of these black-clad figures was overwhelming. Every strike they unleashed was far beyond anything Song Wen could withstand.

"These people are all in the late stage of Qi Refining-some are even at the eighth or ninth layer."

Song Wen was inwardly shaken.

Then again, it made sense. Without such power, who would dare venture into the Poisonous Miasma Swamp to target the Yan Family?

Under Yan Zhengping's command, the Yan Family cultivators on board-including Guo Tao-dispersed to various corners of the deck, preparing their respective techniques.

Some summoned defensive Magical Artifacts, others activated talismans, and some began chanting offensive techniques.

Only Song Wen seemed to have been entirely forgotten. No one paid him the slightest attention.

Seeing this, Song Wen quietly slipped toward the stern.

He knew that no one would lift a finger to protect him now. In fact, the Yan Family probably wished him dead; his demise would shift the Corpse Demon Sect's attention away from the audit of the Seven-Color Grass and onto hunting down these attackers.

Song Wen summoned his Corpse Puppet, positioning it directly in front of him.

His right hand gripped the Ghost Head Shield, ready to channel his power into it at a moment's notice.

His left hand held a Flying Talisman, primed for immediate activation.

By now, the large ship had drifted to the edge of the dense forest, where ancient trees loomed large. With Song Wen's physical strength, a desperate leap could carry him dozens of meters into the branches. From there, the Flying Talisman would allow him to vanish into the depths of the woods in the blink of an eye.

He had already triggered his Shield Spell. As his Dharma Power grew more profound by the day, the defensive strength of the shield had increased considerably. Though it remained inadequate against a barrage from late-stage Qi Refining cultivators, it was better than nothing and offered a vital layer of protection.

Suddenly, a middle-aged cultivator around forty or fifty years old flew out from among the black-clad attackers. He was their leader, Gui San.

Gui San hovered in mid-air, a crimson Demon Subduing Pestle floating before him. The hilt of the pestle was carved into the likeness of a grotesque fiend, billowing dense clouds of malevolent energy from its jaws.

Gui San laughed loudly.

"Who knew this ship's barrier would be so tough? It's like a turtle shell, holding out against a dozen late-stage Qi Refining cultivators. Yan Zhengping, did you squander all the Spirit Stones your family accumulated over the decades just to build this shell?"

Upon seeing Gui San, Yan Zhengping's face contorted with immense rage.

"Gui San! Back then, my Yan Family hunted you down until you fled like a stray dog. You were lucky to survive. Instead of hiding in some dark corner to draw your final breaths, you dare collude with these thugs to challenge my Yan Family again?"

"Yan Zhengping, your Yan Family slaughtered my entire clan! Today, I will repay that debt in full!" Gui San roared hoarsely.

Yan Zhengping glanced around. Under the relentless assault of the black-clad cultivators, the ship's defensive barrier was already showing signs of strain, growing increasingly precarious. His expression turned ice-cold.

"Hmph! A band of petty scoundrels dares dream of bringing down my Yan Family? You truly do not know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth! Our Yan Family is overseen by a Foundation Establishment ancestor, and behind us stands the protection of the Corpse Demon Sect!"

Though Yan Zhengping's words were laced with disdain, his voice lacked genuine confidence, sounding hollow and defensive.

Anyone with eyes could see that the attackers held a massive advantage.

Twelve black-clad cultivators had revealed themselves, every single one of them in the late stage of Qi Refining. Four of them were at the peak of the ninth layer.

In contrast, the Yan Family only had four late-stage Qi Refining cultivators, with a mere two at the ninth layer.

Furthermore, these black-clad men were clearly hardened killers who fought on the edge of life and death. They exuded a dense, suffocating torrent of killing intent. Even through the protective barrier, Song Wen could feel the sharp, piercing weight of their aura.

Yet, as the local lords who had ruled the Poisonous Miasma Swamp for over a century, the Yan Family surely had hidden cards. Song Wen refused to believe they would fall so easily.

"A Foundation Establishment ancestor? The Corpse Demon Sect? Hahaha..."

Gui San threw his head back and laughed maniacally, as if he had just heard the most absurd joke in the world.

"Do you honestly think my Fellow Daoists and I would strike your family without thorough preparation?"

"For years, I have secretly gathered intelligence on the Yan Family."

"Your ancestor is ancient and withered, his longevity virtually exhausted. He hasn't shown his face in public for over a decade. Even if he draws breath, his blood vitality is utterly spent. How much combat strength could he possibly muster?"

"Furthermore, over the past two years, your Yan Family has been going behind the Corpse Demon Sect's back to collude with the Nine Palaces Sect, covertly smuggling Seven-Color Grass. You thought your secrecy was flawless, but it never escaped my eyes."

"And you still dare boast of the Corpse Demon Sect's protection? If the Sect finds out about this betrayal, they will extract the souls of your entire lineage, refine them in hellfire, and turn every last one of you into a living corpse!"

"Hahaha!"

Amidst Gui San's wild laughter, the Demon Subduing Pestle before him suddenly erupted with a terrifying pressure.

It turned out he had been covertly channeling power into the artifact throughout his exchange with Yan Zhengping, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a shattering blow to the ship's formation.

The explosive secrets Gui San revealed triggered vastly different reactions across the deck.

The thirteen mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators of the Yan Family were completely bewildered, staring at their patriarch with mixed expressions of shock and doubt.

The Yan Family had betrayed the Corpse Demon Sect to side with the Nine Palaces Sect?

As mid-level members of the clan, they had been kept entirely in the dark.

While the Nine Palaces Sect was a righteous sect, its disciples acted with reckless abandon, walking the line between orthodox and unorthodox. They did not slaughter mortals and rogue cultivators wholesale for resources like the Demonic Cultivators of the Corpse Demon Sect, but neither did they hide behind sanctimonious platitudes of benevolence and morality like the true orthodox factions.

Even so, the Nine Palaces Sect cultivated orthodox arts. They would naturally despise poison cultivators like the Yan Family.

After all, no one wanted to associate with individuals whose bodies were ridden with venom and who could slip them a lethal dose at any moment. From a certain perspective, poison cultivators were even more reviled than Demonic Cultivators.

Meanwhile, panic flashed across the faces of the five late-stage Qi Refining cultivators, including Guo Tao. They clearly had not expected their dealings with the Nine Palaces Sect to leak, let alone fall into Gui San's hands.

Now that the truth was out, the Yan Family had no retreat. Their only choice was to fight to the bitter end, silence every outsider present to delay the news from spreading, and immediately uproot the clan to flee to the Nine Palaces Sect. That was their sole path to survival.

This was the exact contingency plan they had established with the Nine Palaces Sect; they were simply forced to execute it ahead of schedule.

Yan Zhengping turned his icy, murderous gaze toward the stern, locking his eyes onto Song Wen.

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