Transcending two realms to become an earth immortal

The enormous bone shadows, the eerie wails of ghosts, all froze in place.

Only the suffocating killing intent and the absurdity of the scene silently spoke of the strangeness of the place.

A deathly silence pervaded the air.

Not only Mingjun, but also the three evil spirits in mid-air, and even the many demons watching from outside the temple, all had their faces twitching and their expressions changing.

However, upon closer reflection, it seems to make perfect sense.

What kind of demonic spirit is this? Betrayal, turning against one's comrades in battle, betraying fellow cultivators... this is the true nature of the demonic sect!

"Oh……"

The old monster who practiced physical training coughed a few times, breaking the silence:

"After decades of cultivation, I was tricked by a mere child."

Before his laughter had even faded, his eyes turned cold as he stared intently at Fang Chen:

"You little beast, you do have some skill, but unfortunately, your cultivation level is too low, which is your biggest weakness. Even with the sword gourd by your side, how many sword strikes can you unleash? Once your magic power is exhausted, that will be your death!"

"You old dog, you're right." Fang Chen nodded slightly, a faint smile on his face, but his voice was cold. "But if we're willing to risk our lives at any cost, dragging another person down with us to the underworld shouldn't be too difficult. I just wonder, of the three of you, who is willing to go?"

"Heh heh..." Master Youxuan's face was gloomy, and a sinister smile appeared on his lips. "Using such words to stir up suspicion and try to make us hinder each other... You little bastard, you really know how to read people's hearts."

He abruptly changed the subject, like a viper spitting its tongue:

"However, if you can hold on, how long can your senior brother...? The Zhengyang Spirit Lamp is a top-grade magic artifact; how can a Foundation Establishment cultivator keep it running for long? Even if it's a treasure passed down through generations, with lamp oil and secret techniques to mitigate the backlash, how long can it last?"

Fang Chen's expression remained unchanged, but his heart sank.

A divine sense swept over Mingjun behind him, and he saw that the color had faded from his face, his lips were blue, and his eyes were showing signs of dissipation... This was the sign of death when the three souls were shaken and the seven spirits were about to scatter!

Although the Zhengyang Spirit Lamp is a inherited magical artifact, with specially made lamp oil to bear most of its consumption, and it is also barely maintained by a wisp of Yang energy left by True Man Ming, Daoist Mingjun is ultimately only at the Dao Foundation stage. He has been able to sustain it to this point, but the oil is exhausted and the lamp is running out of gas. He is only hanging on by his last breath and cannot be maintained for long!

Fang Chen's mind raced.

If he were to accept the spirit lamp now, his internal magical power would be completely insufficient to sustain a prolonged battle with a high-grade magical artifact while simultaneously activating the sword gourd...

After all, the conservation of energy is a fundamental principle of the universe that cannot be changed!

The three old monsters' spirits had obviously seen through this, so they said no more, their faces showing mockery, and retreated several feet in unison.

With a flick of his sleeve, he summoned the remaining disciples of his sect, who drove away the fierce ghosts, skeletons, and monsters, and once again swarmed forward like a tide... Clearly, he intended to use a human wave tactic to wear down the two of them!

At that very moment, within Fang Chen's sea of ​​consciousness, Ming Jun's weak yet resolute divine thought resounded:

"Junior brother, you should go. I know you'll find a way to escape. Don't worry about me, leave quickly."

Fang Chen remained silent for a moment, then replied:

"Senior brother, this may not be a dead end..."

"No need for further words." Mingjun's mind was calm, showing no sorrow at impending death. "What you said earlier was indeed reasonable. Not confronting the demons head-on, and instead constantly offering ourselves up to feed them, will not bring peace. Talking about tolerance and morality with demons will only make them see us as fish on the chopping block, wishing they could devour us alive..."

He paused, his divine sense revealing utter exhaustion:

"It's not that I don't understand this, but every time I see those vibrant faces in the sect, every time I see the hope in the eyes of the disciples and elders... my heart can no longer harden, I can't bring myself to make that do-or-die decision, to gamble with the lives of everyone in the sect... I dare not gamble with their lives..."

"Perhaps, Senior Brother is ultimately a person of the old world, no longer able to keep up with this cannibalistic world, so the future path... is entrusted to you!"

"Let's go, let your senior brother... clear the way for you last!"

Fang Chen remained silent, a barely perceptible dimming flicker in the depths of his eyes before he regained his composure.

He was ultimately not the kind of person who indulged in personal feelings and was indecisive:

"In that case, I can only wish you, senior brother, a safe and peaceful journey to the Yellow Springs..."

But before the words were finished—

Suddenly, a dim, yellowish light, like the setting sun, tore through the thick, gray-green miasma beyond the southeastern horizon of the temple and hurtled through the air!

Wherever the golden light passed, the foul and filthy air dissipated and melted away like snow meeting boiling water, startling the surrounding demons who howled and retreated in fear.

As the light faded, a figure stood suspended in mid-air.

This person was about twenty years old, with a resolute face, sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes. He wore a bright yellow Taoist robe, and his body was filled with surging positive yang magic power. His aura was clearly that of a Yin God!

Moreover, his magical power is pure and powerful, making him undoubtedly a direct descendant of the Zhengyang Sect!

"Senior Brother Mingyang!"

Daoist Mingjun suddenly looked up, his pale face bursting with joy, and his eyes, which had been dead ashes, were rekindled with the last spark of hope.

The newcomer was none other than the current chief disciple of the Zhengyang Dao—Daoist Mingyang!

He has gone into seclusion to break through to the Yin God realm, and now he has finally emerged from seclusion to come and provide assistance!

Daoist Mingyang descended into the arena, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the remaining three groups of demons, finally settling on the dying Mingjun and the composed Fang Chen, and he nodded slightly.

"My two junior brothers have worked hard. Leave the rest to me."

After speaking, he raised his hand and made a gesture of summoning.

The [Zhengyang Spirit Lamp] that had been hanging in front of Mingjun and whose radiance had dimmed suddenly shone brightly, transforming into a dazzling stream of light that flew straight into Mingyang Daoist's outstretched palm.

Daoist Mingjun was slightly taken aback, a strange feeling passing through his heart, but he quickly felt relieved... This was his fellow disciple, with the cultivation of Yin Spirit, pure magic power, and the spirit lamp recognized its master. What was there to doubt?

However, Fang Chen's gaze suddenly sharpened, and a strong sense of alarm rose in his heart!

The fighting was so fierce, with life and death hanging in the balance. If this person was really nearby, why didn't he make a move when the situation was at its most dangerous? Why wait until now, when both sides are exhausted and in a stalemate, to "just in time" appear?

What's even stranger is that the moment he appeared, without asking about the battle situation or the casualties... the first thing he did was to take the inherited magic artifact that was crucial to everyone's lives and the last remaining foundation of the dojo into his own hands.

"Senior Brother Mingjun, please don't give him the spirit lamp!" Fang Chen urgently transmitted through his divine sense.

"Hmm?" Mingjun's mind was slightly disturbed. He subconsciously recalled, "Junior Brother suspects he's an imposter? The pure and powerful Yang energy around him is something no unorthodox cultivator could fake..."

Before he could finish his thought, he felt his palm go empty... The ancient lamp, which had been nurtured for hundreds of years, had completely slipped out of his control and landed steadily in the hands of Daoist Mingyang.

The flame then rose slightly, its radiance seemingly increasing by a third.

Master Mingyang lowered his head and gazed at the ancient lamp in his palm, which had inherited the wisdom and hard work of countless generations of ancestors. A trace of uncontrollable heat and pride flashed in his eyes.

With the previous battle situation unclear and the dangers unpredictable, as the last hope of the Daoist lineage, he bore a heavy responsibility and naturally could not easily take risks. He could only lie in wait in the shadows and wait for the right opportunity.

The time has come... The evil forces have been severely weakened, and his own side is also at its last gasp. It is time for him to step in, stabilize the situation, and turn the tide!

After this battle, Mingyang's name will surely resound throughout Daocheng, causing demons to flee in terror, and the prestige of Zhengyang Dao will be restored in no time!

"Senior Brother Mingyang, everything... is entrusted to you..." Behind them came Fang Chen and Ming Jun's weak voices, as if relieved of a great burden.

"Rest assured, I'll handle everything..." Daoist Mingyang's lips curled slightly, about to finish uttering his long-awaited boast, when he suddenly realized something was amiss—

Fang Chen and Ming Jun were clearly standing several feet in front of him, so why was the voice coming from behind him?!

"not good--!"

His expression suddenly changed drastically, and a chilling sense of dread instantly swept over his entire body!

However, before he could react, three sinister and strange forces, working together seamlessly, had already bound him tightly like venomous pythons!

[The Art of Animal Creation: Corpse Transformation and Life Stealing]!

The invisible foul air pressed down, first disrupting the protective spiritual light of the Zhengyang Spirit Lamp that was about to be emitted!

Almost simultaneously...

"Mingyang—"

Spell: [Call Name to Dismount]!

In an instant, Mingyang felt his three souls and seven spirits completely captured, his yin spirit stiffened, and he could no longer move.

immediately--

A skeletal hand, shrouded in a dense aura of death, pierced right through his chest!