126. Assassination Attempt

Ling Yu subdued these people with just a single spirit talisman. This world was unlike the real one, where cultivators were everywhere; here, even a Qi Refining cultivator could command respect, let alone a Foundation Establishment practitioner.

The fear of the Bloodclad Sect vanished with that small talisman, and everyone was excited, thinking that a divine being had come to save them and that they might escape their fate.

With hope in their hearts, their hunger became more bearable. The food they exchanged for spirit stone fragments was scant; over a hundred people barely had enough to last a few days, even when each ate as little as possible.

Sure enough, at dawn the next day, a large team emerged from the tunnel they had dug, spreading out to search everywhere. This bitter prison did not hold hardened criminals, but as Yiwu had said, the bitter prison was the most heavily guarded place in the Bloodclad Sect’s altar. If trouble arose there, it would surely draw attention.

The search lasted more than half a month, and the food was depleted early on. Ren Shen and the others played their parts well, not only comforting the people but also organizing groups to forage for food.

Underground, there was more to eat—roots and tubers of plants, burrowing field mice, and so forth. Fire was no problem; Ling Yu had a simple spell for that.

These people trapped in the bitter prison had all suffered greatly. Compared to the constant fear, occasional beatings, and unease above, hiding in the tunnels was much better. Even if they couldn’t fully satiate their hunger, at least they wouldn’t be beaten.

After half a month, the search gradually ceased. Ling Yu’s guess was correct: they had not thoroughly searched the altar’s vicinity but focused more on the surrounding forest.

Over half a month, more than a hundred people vanished without a trace. Ling Yu didn’t know how much impact this had on the Bloodclad Sect. Once the search slowed, she began silently coming and going from the tunnels, gathering information and looking for food.

With so many people, they couldn’t survive solely on field mice forever. There simply weren’t enough for that.

Emerging from the tunnel once more, Ling Yu ventured alone into the altar.

The Bloodclad Sect’s altar was grand and magnificent, paved with golden bricks and jade steps, intricately carved—there was no hint of the austere cultivation style they claimed. Perhaps this sect’s so-called austerity was merely a facade to deceive the world. Now that their power was substantial, their true nature was revealed, no longer requiring disguise.

Ling Yu extended her divine sense to carefully survey the altar’s interior.

Most of the guards were mere mortals, uninitiated in Qi Refining. A few Qi Refining cultivators occupied important positions—likely the priests they mentioned. Ren Shen had said he had fought some priests before, indicating these priests were not highly skilled, only just entering Qi Refining and unable to defeat even human warriors.

What made Ling Yu wary was the altar’s center. There sat a cultivator whose strength was nearly equal to hers. When she extended her divine sense, she nearly got detected by him.

Foundation Establishment! This must be a Foundation Establishment cultivator!

Thinking of the bitter prison’s formation, Ling Yu was certain this sole Foundation Establishment cultivator was the Bloodclad Sect’s leader.

This was truly strange. A Foundation Establishment cultivator commanding only about ten newly initiated Qi Refining priests and a crowd of mortals not even at Qi Refining rank—this was not the structure of a naturally developed world.

In the lower realm, due to environmental reasons, there was not a single Foundation Establishment cultivator, but many Qi Refining cultivators, some at levels eight or nine. The Xuanyuan Sect alone had dozens, not to mention elders like Feng who had reached perfect Qi Refining.

In the Cangming Realm, the ratio of Qi Refining cultivators to Foundation Establishment cultivators was roughly several hundred to one, slightly higher in major sects. In other words, among hundreds of Qi Refining cultivators, there would be one Foundation Establishment practitioner.

Moreover, the cultivators’ levels formed a pyramid: about 60% below Qi Refining level five, 30% at levels six or seven, and only 10% above level eight. Those who achieved perfect Qi Refining were less than half that. On average, ten perfect Qi Refining cultivators produced only one Foundation Establishment.

This was the natural structure a cultivation world should have—not like the Bloodclad Sect altar, with one Foundation Establishment cultivator commanding barely a dozen entry-level Qi Refining priests, not a single one even reaching Qi Refining level five.

Even if most priests did not remain at the altar, that could not explain this. Since the altar was the Bloodclad Sect’s headquarters, it should have the most experts. Even if there weren’t many, it could not be just a handful of small fry.

Could it be that the experts were all dispatched elsewhere?

With this thought, Ling Yu quietly crept deeper into the altar, moving toward the center.

Though they had escaped the bitter prison and rescued the people, Ling Yu still could not leave. Clearly, she had not passed the trial. Failing the trial meant she still had tasks unfinished.

After much thought, she resolved to end the Bloodclad Sect once and for all. She could not believe that would not allow her to leave.

If she destroyed the sect, no one else mattered—her primary target was the sect leader. Eliminating the sole Foundation Establishment cultivator here would surely dissolve the Bloodclad Sect.

With determination, Ling Yu sprang into action.

What was a sword cultivator’s greatest strength? Martial prowess. As a sword cultivator, not using one’s best asset was pointless. Of course, the Bloodclad Sect’s territory was hostile; charging in brandishing a sword would be foolish. So Ling Yu chose assassination.

She bypassed the altar’s strict defenses, sought the formation’s layout, and planned a swift, lethal strike.

At this moment, the spirit net within her sea of consciousness unleashed its power. Upon reaching Foundation Establishment, the spirit net expanded from a few dozen meters around her to a radius of about a mile—smaller than her divine sense’s range but far more precise. Countless threads of spirit energy wove together, extending from her consciousness, intertwining into a dense web. On this web, no disturbance escaped her notice—not a fly’s flutter, an ant colony moving, a leaf shaking, or a drop of dew falling.

Releasing the spirit net, Ling Yu became like a spider, poised in her web, waiting for prey. More skillful than any spider, her net moved with her at all times.

Even more astonishing, while divine sense could be detected, the spirit net could not. Made of spirit energy, which cultivators were accustomed to surrounding themselves with, no one would suspect this subtle, deadly presence within their own aura.

Ling Yu crouched beneath the eaves, monitoring the altar’s center through the spirit net, silently awaiting her moment.

Time passed—night to dawn, then night again.

For a full day and night, she remained as calm as still water.

A sword cultivator was no fool; a competent sword cultivator knew how to choose the perfect moment to strike.

This was something Liu Weiyi had taught her, and Qian Jiale had mentioned as well. Despite Qian’s fiery temper and fierce sword style, he was unmatched in calmness. A venomous, decisive strike was the mark of a successful sword cultivator.

The man at the altar’s center was immersed in study, seemingly repairing a formation. The tunnel they had dug in the bitter prison had easily broken through the formation, making him aware of a crucial flaw. Though the formation appeared tight, it was easily circumvented—even ordinary people could manage it.

Throughout, priests came and went, reporting matters at the door. Ling Yu dared not use divine sense, so she could not overhear. Likely sect business.

After a full day and night, the man finally ceased his work, summoned his subordinates, issued many instructions, and began meditating to recover.

The perfect opportunity!

Ling Yu’s eyes brightened as she gripped the Kanli Sword.

When cultivators train, they are most vulnerable—sometimes so immersed that they cannot perceive the outside world. Even the poorest cultivators set up formations for protection, arranged around them to raise alarms during cultivation.

This man had one as well, but probably because the altar’s defenses were already so strong, after repairing the bitter prison’s formation, he only placed a simple formation around the room. Ling Yu was eighty percent certain she could destroy the formation and simultaneously strike a fatal blow.

She waited patiently for an hour. His aura grew faint, approaching nothingness—obviously entering a meditative state.

Ling Yu landed lightly and dashed toward the altar’s center.

Patrolling guards inexplicably felt a breeze and glimpsed a shadow flicker past; when they turned, there was nothing to see. They shook their heads, thinking they’d imagined it, and continued their patrol.

Within moments, Ling Yu reached the room.

She scanned the area, focusing on the formation’s weakest point as revealed by her spirit net.

Inside, the man remained unaware.

He cultivated a non-combat technique—or perhaps, in this world, he had no enemies, so he had let down his guard.

This was perfect for her.

The Kanli Sword slid from its sheath, held upright before her eyes. Ling Yu lightly traced the blade, drawing out her essence blood.

Bathed in essence blood and linked to her mind, the Kanli Sword suddenly blazed with radiant light, its presence overwhelming.

Without hesitation, Ling Yu activated her sword technique. Pale purple light surged along the blade, sharp and cold.

In an instant, the pale purple sword light detached, multiplying into countless sword rays that streaked toward the formation’s weakest point.

*Whoosh!* Like a candle blown out, with barely a sound, the defensive formation shattered as expected. The sword rays did not waver but surged straight toward the meditating Bloodclad Sect leader.

Through the broken formation, Ling Yu saw a man in his fifties seated inside. His hair was still black, but his face was somewhat aged.

He barely opened his eyes when he detected the formation’s breach, only to see the fierce sword rays rushing at him. He hastily raised a magical artifact, instinctively blocking. The Kanli Sword hummed sharply; a fierce sword qi followed swiftly. The artifact repelled the first strike but not the second.

*Pfft!* The sword qi pierced through, and the man coughed up blood, staring in disbelief at Ling Yu as she stepped inside.

“You…” he gasped, horrified—but a strange glint of joy flickered in his eyes.