: One Against Three, Butterfly Wing Blades

A dense, gloomy aura rose in swirling clouds within the small courtyard, enveloping the surroundings. The sounds from outside grew fainter, as if the area had been cut off from the world.

Sun Lingtong, with the stature of a three-year-old child, had short, jet-black hair, large, clear eyes, and chubby, smooth cheeks. He was trapped in the center of the courtyard.

Before and behind him stood two black-clothed demonic cultivators—one with triangular eyes, the other with a hooked nose. To his right, a shadow, alive and writhing, coalesced against the courtyard wall. Within the shadow, Han Ming flickered in and out of view.

Her face was delicate but tinged with a grayish pallor, twisted by venomous hatred into something ferocious.

"This isn’t good," Sun Lingtong thought to himself.

He could clearly feel the separation between himself and the outside world, as if a layer of rough glass had suddenly been placed between him and the once-clear world. With this sensation, he knew he had fallen into a formation. The reason it wasn’t visibly active was simply because his enemies were holding back.

"Three against one, and all at the Foundation Establishment stage," Sun Lingtong observed, glancing at the two demonic cultivators and Han Ming in the corner. His gaze lingered on Han Ming for a moment.

"Han Ming possesses the innate Yin Corpse Qi! Most of her body has already turned into a zombie. Ordinary attacks won’t work on her."

While calculating inwardly, he outwardly wore a panicked expression. "Wait, everyone, calm down! I’m a disciple of the Bukong Sect. Think carefully about the consequences of attacking me. If I die by your hands, a mark will be left. Consider the retaliation from the Bukong Sect in the future."

The two demonic cultivators remained expressionless. Han Ming gritted her teeth. "Worried about the Bukong Sect’s revenge? Weren’t you afraid of the Soul Devourer Sect’s retaliation when you set me up before?"

Sun Lingtong hurriedly replied, "I didn’t set you up; it wasn’t my intention. That Chuíxiá Ke offered too high a price to refuse! The black smoke that knocked you out wasn’t from me. It was Chuíxiá Ke who imprisoned and humiliated you. Go after him! We’re not enemies; I was just working for money. If you pay me, I’ll be your ally."

"Ally?!" Han Ming’s voice rose with mockery and disdain. "Do you think I’d fall for the same trick twice? You still want money? Heh, are you blind to the current situation? Forget it. Killing you and searching your soul will yield the same result! Move—"

"Hold on!" Sun Lingtong shouted. "I know you’ve set up a formation, but you need to understand: this is Huoshi Immortal City! Your formation will surely trigger a reaction from the city’s defensive array. How long can it last? Trapped here, I’ll fight with everything I’ve got. Wouldn’t that old fool Chuíxiá Ke laugh himself to death? Let’s talk this out. There’s no need for a fight to the death."

Sun Lingtong pleaded earnestly. Under normal circumstances, his words might have had some effect. But now, after Meng Kui’s intervention, the influence of fate had affected everyone present.

Han Ming shouted, "He’s stalling! Attack!"

As she spoke, she formed hand seals with both hands, opened her small mouth, and spat out a gust of black-gray Yin wind. Hand seals, body seals, and mind seals were among the primary methods used in the cultivation world to assist spellcasting.

The two demonic cultivators also cast the same spell, conjuring two more gusts of Yin wind. The winds, deceptively slow, closed in on Sun Lingtong from three directions. With a surge of magical power, Sun Lingtong vanished from his spot, reappearing by the left courtyard wall.

The Yin winds missed their target, merging into a whirlwind that continued to pursue him. This was the advantage of sharing the same sect. All three cultivated the Soul Devourer Art. Though their magical energies had individual traits, their essence was similar, allowing their spells to briefly merge rather than clash violently.

Sun Lingtong attempted to leap over the courtyard wall, but a surge of Yin energy roared before him. The ground cracked, and a torrent of Yin wind burst forth, soaring into the sky to form a wall of wind five to six feet thick and two zhang high. This wasn’t the only one; within moments, the courtyard walls were demolished, replaced by fiercely blowing black-gray Yin winds.

"Where do you think you’re running, Sun Lingtong, trapped in my Yin Wind Barrel Formation?" the hook-nosed demonic cultivator laughed triumphantly.

With no path forward and a cold whirlwind closing in from behind, Sun Lingtong cursed. He extended the five fingers of his left hand, forming seals. A ball of lightning coalesced in his palm—Palms Thunder!

With a loud bang, the lightning shattered the Yin wind. But the triangular-eyed cultivator’s fine needle法器 seized the opportunity, silently aiming for the back of Sun Lingtong’s head. A direct hit would mean severe injury or death.

At the critical moment, a spiritual light flashed in Sun Lingtong’s eyes. He turned sharply, his gaze locking onto the needle. His left hand, having just used thunder magic, was temporarily unusable. With his right hand, he reached into his robe and flung out a handkerchief. The cloth wrapped around the needle法器.

Sun Lingtong chuckled lightly, leaping up and grabbing the handkerchief, forcibly containing the needle. The triangular-eyed cultivator’s face paled. He frantically channeled magical power, trying to recall his法器, but the handkerchief had severed most of his connection. By the time Sun Lingtong seized it, the cultivator could barely sense the needle.

Shocked, the demonic cultivator recognized it: "The Bukong Sect’s Treasure Trapping Technique!"

The needle struggled wildly within the handkerchief. Just as Sun Lingtong was about to succeed, Han Ming lunged at him.

"Let go!" Her movements were stiff but incredibly fast. Her fingers, tipped with sharp, black-purple nails, slashed through the air, leaving ten sharp trails and a sickly-sweet scent.

Sun Lingtong’s hair stood on end. He released the needle and handkerchief, darting backward. The items fell to the ground.

Han Ming, inherently ruthless—she had even sought revenge against Sun Lie—hated Sun Lingtong for his earlier betrayal. Her attacks aimed relentlessly at his vital points. Sun Lingtong retreated repeatedly, not daring to meet her head-on.

Han Ming, relying on her innate talents and having cultivated the Immortal Corpse Transformation Art, was effectively a body cultivator. Sun Lingtong, trained in the Bukong Sect’s techniques, had built a strong Foundation Establishment focused on the Upper Dantian (Sea of Spirit). His Middle and Lower Dantian (Sea of Energy and Sea of Essence) were comparatively weaker.

Han Ming closed in, leveraging her zombie body’s power with vicious, poisonous strikes. Sun Lingtong dodged left and right, his movements incredibly agile. Despite his inferior physical strength, he managed to hold his ground.

The two observing demonic cultivators gradually noticed the pattern. "Sun Lingtong has extensive combat experience! Han Ming has the advantage but lacks martial skill. She can’t secure a quick victory." "Let’s help her!"

They reached a consensus through silent communication. The hook-nosed cultivator manipulated the Yin Wind Barrel Formation, compressing the wind walls inward. The triangular-eyed cultivator recalled his needle法器, incidentally seizing Sun Lingtong’s handkerchief法器, and sent the needle flying again, targeting Sun Lingtong from another angle.

Caught in a three-way assault, Sun Lingtong was hard-pressed. He was hit several times by the needle, his protective spells nearly breaking. Han Ming’s nails grazed him, poisoning him and forcing him to swallow a pill hastily. Finally, as the wind walls closed in, Sun Lingtong completed a spell: Void Traversal Art.

He took a large step backward, spatial ripples enveloping him from behind. He vanished, reappearing behind Han Ming and the others, at the opposite end of the formation, finally creating some distance.

Sun Lingtong’s expression turned grim. Han Ming turned, sneering, "Sun Lingtong, knowing you’re from the Bukong Sect, did you think we wouldn’t prepare for the Void Traversal Art?"

For the first time, Sun Lingtong’s childlike face contorted with ferocity. "Fine! If you push me this far, even if I die, I’ll take all of you with me!"

"Wishful thinking!" Han Ming channeled her power, forming seals and spewing ghostly green flames. Sun Lingtong shouted, pulling a gourd from his robe and releasing a stream of icy water. The collision of fire and water created a dense mist.

Sun Lingtong’s eyes glowed, piercing through the fog. He ignored Han Ming, charging toward the hook-nosed cultivator, the formation’s controller. Killing him was Sun Lingtong’s only chance to break the spell and escape.

But the trio had anticipated this. The hook-nosed cultivator retreated, vanishing into the Yin wind. The triangular-eyed cultivator and Han Ming immediately gave chase, engaging Sun Lingtong in a chaotic melee.

Abandoning his earlier evasive style, Sun Lingtong spared no effort, frequently casting spells and hurling various法器. For a time, the battle was evenly matched.

"This Sun Lingtong has quite a few tricks!" the hook-nosed cultivator remarked after destroying a flying dagger法器. "Bukong Sect disciples are all thieves. Sun Lingtong’s been积累ing these法器 in the black market for years," the triangular-eyed cultivator added.

Han Ming snapped, "Kill him quickly! You can chat all you want after the fight!"

The hook-nosed cultivator snorted. "Han Ming, watch your tone. We saved you." The triangular-eyed cultivator added, "Without us, you’d still be chained up. This is your enemy. We’ve helped you enough."

Both demonic cultivators reduced their efforts. Sun Lingtong’s aggressive tactics had made them cautious. They preferred letting Han Ming take the lead, weakening Sun Lingtong and potentially drawing out any hidden trump cards. If those were used on Han Ming, so much the better for their safety.

Demonic cultivators excelled—and preferred—fighting alone. A key feature of demonic arts was the ability to use fellow cultivators as resources, creating strong incentives for betrayal even among sect siblings.

After a brief period of coordinated attack, internal strife emerged among the trio. The pressure on Sun Lingtong eased noticeably, giving him breathing room.

Seizing the opportunity, he reverted to his evasive style, only occasionally attacking Han Ming or the Yin wind walls with spells or法器.

A prolonged defense inevitably leads to mistakes. Han Ming’s ghost flames chilled Sun Lingtong to the bone, turning his black hair ash-gray. Her poisonous nails left festering wounds across his body, emitting a foul odor. He feared her Soul-Snatching Shuttle the most,宁愿ing to endure other attacks rather than let it near.

"Heh heh, haha! Did you ever imagine this day when you betrayed me, Sun Lingtong?" Han Ming’s eyes were bloodshot, ecstatic with vengeful excitement. "I’ll capture you, extract your soul, and make you taste our Soul Devourer Sect’s soul punishments!"

Sun Lingtong was driven into a corner. "Die!" Han Ming screeched, pushing her power to the limit. The ghost flames intensified, forming a Yin fire serpent that lunged to devour him.

At the brink of death, Sun Lingtong suddenly let out a sly laugh. "You want me dead? Heh, the three of you are far from capable!"

In the next instant, he vanished. "Void Traversal Art again," the triangular-eyed cultivator muttered.

"No matter, he’s still in my Yin Wind Barrel Formation... Oh no!" The hook-nosed cultivator’s expression changed drastically. The towering wind walls collapsed with a roar. As the formation’s master, he suffered a terrible backlash, vomiting blood and collapsing unconscious.

"What happened?!" As the triangular-eyed cultivator gaped in shock, Sun Lingtong materialized behind him. *Thud!* A gleaming dagger, sharp and effortless, pierced his lower back. Blue lightning erupted from the blade, ravaging his organs.

The triangular-eyed cultivator convulsed violently, like an epileptic. Within moments, his eyes rolled back, and black smoke poured from his mouth as he collapsed, unconscious.

"Only you left," Sun Lingtong declared, his previous狼狈 replaced by a radiant, fighting spirit.

Han Ming was furious. "Losing those two deadweights changes nothing!" She charged at him.

Sun Lingtong took a deep breath, gripping a dagger法器 in each hand and channeling power into them. The blades flickered like butterfly wings, dancing forth. The butterfly-like gleams were dazzlingly beautiful, utterly devoid of magical aura—their power收敛ed to the extreme.

Sun Lingtong’s self-created blade technique—Butterfly Wing Blades!

The butterfly swarm enveloped Han Ming. She shrouded herself in Yin wind, spewed ghost fire, and attacked with fists and feet, but all her strikes missed! The blade lights were exquisitely agile, some lightly grazing her skin, others passing through her limbs to emerge behind her.

The entire sequence, from formation to attack to dissipation, lasted mere seconds. Han Ming stood motionless, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"This... this is your true strength?" she stammered.

As she spoke, her head toppled. Her torso was sliced diagonally, the upper half crashing to the ground. Following suit, her limbs separated, scattering around her. Blood gushed, quickly forming a pool around her corpse.

(End of )