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Translator: TheBrokenPen
Editor: Dhael Ligerkeys
The continuous ingestion of Spirit Pills generated more Spiritual Power for him, allowing him to infuse the eldritch energy into the Glyph hanging on his back as his auric displacement gradually turned as ferocious as a storm.
So much so that even the Ninth-Orders around him were beginning to feel their senses tingling wildly, warning them of palpable danger.
At that very moment, Lu Ye no longer felt like a human to them—he appeared like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
“Is he trying to kill himself!?” a voice cried. Not even a Ninth-Order, let alone a Third-Order, would survive being besieged by so many enemy Cultivators. If death would be his fate anyhow, it was not a stretch to imagine that Lu Ye might try to commit suicide.
Generally, Cultivators were never trained to have the means to self-destruct. But as a Glyphweaver, who could tell what other quaint and peculiar marvels Lu Yi Ye was able to perform?
Many amongst the Thousand Demon Ridge horde harbored such suspicions, more so because of the abnormal and bizarre state Lu Ye was in.
But he could have blown himself up much earlier if he truly wanted to self-destruct, why now?
“He’s accumulating Spiritual Power!” someone exclaimed, “He wants to take others down with him!”
Like a deafening and staggering wake-up call, the words rang as sonorously as a tolling bell. The faces of the Ninth-Orders around Lu Ye hardened with trepidation and fear as they immediately retreated in unison.
The greater Lu Ye’s aura became, the more terrible the detonation would be when it happened. He had been accumulating all that Spiritual Power all along, deliberately delaying his detonation, just so that he could push the destructive force the explosion would yield to its limit, all to ensure that he could bring as many Thousand Demon Ridge Cultivators to the grave with him as possible.
“Foolish wish!”
Wei Que was barely finished when he strode forward, covering the distance to Lu Ye in just a few strides using his powers. He launched a swift kick, sending Lu Ye hurtling through the air. With a commanding shout, he barked at the rest of his allies, “Send him airborne!”
A spark of realization flashed across the eyes of the Thousand Demon Ridge Cultivators who saw the merit in the suggestion.
If Lu Yi Ye was seeking to pull as many men as he could down with him, then rendering him airborne could make his self-detonation useless. He could blow himself up and the threat posed to others would be significantly diminished.
Another Cultivator promptly delivered a second powerful kick, propelling Lu Ye’s figure skyward. In swift succession, streams of flying weapons converged, relentlessly barraging Lu Ye’s form to keep him in the air.
The aureate-glow-bathed Lu Ye turned into a turbulent whirl of gold midair, rising higher with each tumultuous wave until he hovered dozens of yards above the ground.
Every time he was about to descend, precise strikes from flying weapons would thwart his fall, sending him soaring once more.
Anyone viewing from afar would see Lu Ye’s figure suspended midair, rolling like a leaf caught in a wildly unpredictable breeze.
Once again disoriented, Lu Ye felt like a die in a cup with only the Golden Body Token’s effect to ensure his safety. He maintained his focus and continued gorging on Spirit Pills to replenish his waning Spiritual Power.
Twenty miles away, Li Baxian and Feng Yuechan were laying low with their senses attuned to the commotion that reached their ears. The former looked into the distance. Seeing how pitiful Lu Ye was being toyed with like a vole in the hands of enemy Cultivators made Li Baxian clench his fist and gritted his teeth with such grief and rage that his irises tinged crimson.
He watched his junior undergo such humiliation, his heart brimming with a profound sense of powerlessness and sorrow.
Li Baxian and Feng Yuechan had managed to muster some allies to help and everyone was positioned nearby and lying low. But their relatively low numbers prevented a high chance of success. A rash move at this critical juncture would only endanger them. To that end, before the rescuers had amassed sufficient strength, caution held them back. Despite whatever anger and frustration now boiling inside them, they could only endure while persisting in their efforts to rally more support.
Something drifted past them. Something as shadowy as a wraith. But the unmistakable effusion of Spiritual Power indicated that it was a Cultivator, a Cloud River Realm Second-Order.
Few Second-Orders could roam the Colosseum and yet survive up until now. Most low-tier Cultivators, except for those who enjoyed the protection of high-tier Cultivators, had been wiped out in the first few days of the Colosseum’s beginning.
And for those who had managed to stay alive up until today, there was only one possibility: they were Ghost Cultivators.
Only Ghost Cultivators possessed the skills to extend their survivability.
The ghostly figure brushed past Li Baxian and Feng Yuechan before vanishing completely. He trekked for more than ten miles and looked up just in time to see the figure rolling and tumbling helplessly in the air, bobbing up and down incessantly.
The Ghost Cultivator stood there and stared. That must be Lu Yi Ye. In spite of the mask that obscured his features, his frame and physique were unmistakable, matching the memory etched in his mind.
With such a massive congregation of powerful and elite Thousand Demon Ridge Cultivators, there was no mistaking it: that really must be Lu Yi Ye.
What a pity, he thought. That a powerful figure who once wielded respect and fear of the whole Spirit Creek Battlefield—allies revered and admired him while enemies quaked with panic at the mere mention of his name—was now suffering such a wretched treatment. Even as an enemy, the Ghost Cultivator couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.
This could be the price of staying in the limelight for far too long, he mused pensively.
This was precisely why he had chosen the path of becoming a Ghost Cultivator, whose forte was concealment and assassination—skill sets that would enable him the chance to preserve his existence in the face of any perilous circumstance.
[Is what would become of he who was once the most-feared figure in the Spirit Creek Battlefield? The one who once sat on the throne of the Roll of Supremacy? What is the point of all that when he’s still going to be dead the next second?]
As the Ghost Cultivator beheld the spectacle before him, he felt emotions simmering in him.
Hardly one with a penchant for being nosy, the Ghost Cultivator wasn’t one who derived excitement by being improperly curious. But this was about the famous Lu Yi Ye. The same Lu Yi Ye, who, out of every other name that adorned the Roll of Supremacy when the Ghost Cultivator was still a Spirit Creek Realm Cultivator, earned his respect.
But that respect wasn’t for nothing. It stemmed from the fact that he had crossed swords with Lu Ye before. Aside from that one bout of attrition that they had once shared together at one point when Lu Ye was busy climbing the ranks of the Roll of Supremacy, he was also dangerously close to meeting his death at Lu Ye’s hands during the latter’s visit into the Myriad Poison Forest.
To say nothing of the fact that he had ascended earlier than Lu Yi Ye, entering the Cloud River Battlefield long before the latter did. Yet here he was just a Second-Order of the Cloud River Realm when Lu Yi Ye had already reached the Third-Order.
[How is this even possible?!] he almost yelled aloud with indignation.
As a Second-Order Ghost Cultivator trapped in this Carnage Colosseum without any connections or allies to rely on, he had spent all the time primarily in seclusion, avoiding danger, and he was fortunate to have survived until now.
And now, being able to bear witness to the downfall of such a young hero might have made being trapped in the Colosseum worth it after all.
Because, after today, Lu Yi Ye would no longer exist in this world.
On a side note, he began to realize what a potent item the Golden Body Token must be. Despite the endless attacks by so many Thousand Demon Ridge elites pummeling Lu Yi Ye, keeping him suspended in the air was pretty much all they could do.
Lost in his train of thought, he slowly ambled forward as if in a trance…
The shadowy figure of the Ghost Cultivator came to an abrupt halt. For reasons unknown, an unsettling foreboding welled up in the depths of his soul—a surging dread that warned him of an immense danger ahead, urging him to stop.
It was one of his innate gifts, an extraordinarily acute intuition for latent threats. Not part of his cultivation rank nor mental or spiritual strength, it was just part of his instincts.
And up until today, this sixth sense of his had saved him from numerous life-threatening perils
Nevertheless, Ghost Cultivator couldn’t believe it. He failed to fathom how a place swarming with so many Thousand Demon Ridge elites—his allies—would be dangerous to him.
He stood there, rooted to the very spot where his footfalls halted with tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. After what seemed like a very long moment, he lifted his foot and hazarded a hesitant step forward.
Yet, that single step caused his pupils to suddenly contract, and an unprecedented sense of foreboding gripped his heart.
Never before had he experienced such a visceral and vivid premonition of peril, he could almost hear the throes of a death rattle in his ears, warning that if he were to venture nearer, then death would come, inevitably.
The fine beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his cheeks converged into larger droplets and trailed further down.
The Ghost Cultivator wheeled around at once. He needed to get away and for that, he abandoned the notion of concealing his presence, bolting with all the haste and urgency his legs could muster into the distance.
The still-hidden Li Baxian and Feng Yuexian spied the enemy Ghost Cultivator who had passed by earlier now retreating hurriedly.
That left them both puzzled, failing to comprehend why the enemy Ghost Cultivator would suddenly look so hapless and panicked.
Just then, a powerful surge of Spiritual Power emanated without a warning from afar.
Li Baxian jerked his head back around and looked up. There was Lu Ye who had been bobbing up and down in midair, his entire form now suddenly engulfed in a radiant inferno by a brilliant blaze that came out of nowhere! The fiery brilliance was so intense that it even eclipsed the golden radiance of the Golden Body Token, that Lu Ye looked as if he was being devoured by tongues of flames.
As the tendrils of flames lapped at the air—gorging hungrily for sustenance—intricate and complex Glyph-like patterns converged and flowed around Lu Ye’s body, expanding in all directions.
“That’s…” Feng Yuechan’s eyes widened in astonishment as she stared at this scene, completely baffled by Lu Ye’s actions.
The Thousand Demon Ridge elites immediately sensed imminent danger. The violent effusion of Spiritual Power emanating from Lu Ye indicated an impending detonation, making everyone believe that Lu Ye was on the brink of self-destruction.
And judging by the fanfare, the ensuing power would undoubtedly be immense.
In response, their attacks grew even more ferocious. Lu Ye, who had originally been a few dozen yards above the ground, ascended even higher.
That would go on until he was hovering nearly two hundred yards above ground level. That was the limit of the Ninth-Orders’ Telekinesis range. Any further and they would struggle to maintain control over their artifacts.
If Lu Ye were to self-detonate at this distance, those below would be well out of the range of the blast.
Unbeknownst to everybody, Lu Ye had no intention of self-destructing.
His goal was to unleash his ultimate ace.
The brilliance that had once illuminated the prairies of the Spirit Creek Battlefield, was now set to be reborn upon the Cloud River Battlefield.
His Spiritual Power tossed and floundered like a storm but that did not stop him from constructing more Yin and Yang elements, melding them and spreading them in all directions to eventually enshroud himself, the aureate aura of the Golden Body Token still effective. Despite the relentless attacks from the Thousand Demon Ridge elites below, all they could do was prevent him from falling back to the ground.
All that Spiritual Power he had stored up in Glyph: Gathering Spirits that he conjured on his back was sapped dry in the blink of an eye, followed swiftly by the first Gathering Spirits Glyph he built on his chest. Like a broken dam, Lu Ye could feel his powers drawn out of him with the speed and intensity of a surging rapid, while the intricate Glyph-like marks around him grew denser and thicker.
At the same time, he discovered that he had been mistaken. When he first tried using this ultimate technique, Lu Ye had built two Glyph: Gathering Spirit circles to gather enough Spiritual Power. At the time, he thought that he might not need such preparation if and when he reached the Cloud River Realm. He thought that once he reached the Fifth- and Sixth-Order, he would be able to dole out this ultimate move arbitrarily without suffering any repercussions.
He really was wrong; the present situation proved otherwise.
He still needed to build two Glyph: Gathering Spirit for this technique even though he was now a Third-Order of the Cloud River Realm. That led to the assumption that using this ultimate technique would demand even more Spiritual Power as one ascended up higher ranks of cultivation, but in turn, the resultant blast would also be significantly amplified!
