Chapter Fifty-Eight: Prelude to the Final Battle

A thunderous voice echoed in the Blood-Clad Man’s ear, “Let’s see if I’m just trying to scare you.” At this moment, he had no doubt that Lei Xiang had truly unleashed the Chaotic Star Hammer. The distance was too close for him to do more than hastily block with his blood-red short bow, but the lid of the wooden box snapped open by itself.

“Boom!”

With a deafening explosion, the blood-red short bow, along with one of the Blood-Clad Man’s arms, was blasted into the air. His angry curses followed, “Lei Xiang, you little bastard, you tricked me! So it was a Heavenly Crystal Bomb!”

From afar, Lei Xiang laughed heartily. “You’ve lived almost a century, yet you still believe there could be a Chaotic Star Hammer in the Eastern Yue Kingdom? Even a replica would be impossible! You really are getting more foolish with age.”

Suddenly, with only his right hand remaining, the Blood-Clad Man tore off his crimson robe, revealing a pure black cloak beneath. Embroidered at its center was a small white flood dragon.

“Bloodlust in full bloom, demonic desire surges to the heavens!”

With this incantation, his appearance changed completely—his entire body was engulfed in thick black mist. Blue light flickered in Lei Xiang’s eyes, allowing him to see the new flesh buds sprouting from the Blood-Clad Man’s severed arm, rapidly regenerating before his very eyes.

“He can regenerate... Senior Linghu, act now!” Lei Xiang’s shout alerted Linghu Chong, who instantly gathered his magic power. His twin-section staff split into two golden maces—one thrusting, the other sweeping. Twin beams of golden light flashed forward.

The black mist seethed and rolled as the Blood-Clad Man emerged once more. Not only had his left arm fully recovered, but his bare arms were now covered in scales the size of copper coins, and he stood a head taller than before. With scaly fists, he struck at the two golden maces.

Seeing this monstrous transformation, Linghu Chong quickly recalled his weapons. The transformed man took a single stride forward, grasping the end of one of the maces. As these were Linghu Chong’s life-bound treasures, he could not let go. Pouring all his spiritual power into the maces, he sent wave after wave of energy crashing against the Blood-Clad Man’s massive hand.

After his transformation, the Blood-Clad Man’s mind seemed dulled—he knew nothing but brute force and relentless battle. He refused to let go, engaging Linghu Chong in a contest of raw spiritual strength.

Twenty fathoms away, Lei Xiang remained motionless, his right hand hidden behind his back, four fingers poised as blades, ready to unleash the Divine Thunder Slash. But he waited, seeking an opportunity to strike with absolute certainty.

The chance finally came.

Linghu Chong’s spiritual power was no match for the transformed opponent. After an hour of fierce struggle, the Blood-Clad Man suddenly exerted a burst of force, wrenching the maces from Linghu Chong’s grasp.

Overexerting himself, the Blood-Clad Man’s body leaned back ever so slightly. Lei Xiang seized the moment—wind and fire wheels sprang from his boots, spinning rapidly, and in a flash, he appeared before the Blood-Clad Man.

Twenty fathoms—covered in a heartbeat. Lei Xiang moved as if instantaneously, his right hand’s four fingers slicing toward the Blood-Clad Man’s vulnerable side. When one throws their weight backward, the ribs are at their weakest; Lei Xiang struck precisely there with the Divine Thunder Slash.

Before his hand even arrived, the Divine Thunder Slash struck first.

A streak of blue light flashed by. The Blood-Clad Man’s mouth fell open, but before he could respond, his body collapsed lifeless to the ground. Linghu Chong, equally astonished, quickly regained his composure, rotating the Autumn Water Copper Mirror to cast a beam of white light, capturing the fleeing spirit of the Blood-Clad Man. “I’ll take his spirit and bring it to the Royal Uncle for interrogation.”

Lei Xiang nodded, casually picking up the emerald-green little arrow. “This little arrow looks interesting—I'll keep it. That red gourd is too bloody for my taste.”

Linghu Chong gathered up the remaining items, replying absentmindedly, though his thoughts were anything but calm. “Who is this Lei Xiang? His blue blade strike was so fast! With such skill, even I would struggle to survive if caught off guard. In all the world’s techniques, speed is the only invincible one. I must be wary of him in the future.”

With this in mind, Linghu Chong addressed Lei Xiang with even more courtesy, and even a hint of respect. “Young Master Lei, what are your plans next?”

Lei Xiang replied without hesitation, “I’ve already killed most of the Bloodfiend Alliance’s Foundation Establishment cultivators. Of the Eighteen Blood Slayers, only eleven remain—five of whom are at the Core Formation stage. Now is the time for us to strike back. Senior Linghu, return and inform the Royal Uncle. Gather our forces quickly. Don’t forget the strength preserved at the Hongji Foundation Academy. In three days, we will launch a full assault on the imperial city.”

“Three days? That’s a tight deadline. We need time to prepare.”

Lei Xiang’s tone was resolute. “No. If we need time, so does the enemy. Now is a race against them. Having killed this Blood-Clad Man, they will surely prepare for a final battle.”

Linghu Chong pondered for a moment, then nodded. “And you? Won’t you join us?”

Lei Xiang smiled mysteriously, “I have more important things to do. Perhaps I’ll infiltrate the Bloodfiend Alliance’s lair even before you do.”

In a secret chamber within the imperial city of Eastern Yue, six figures in blood-red robes stood bowed before a wooden statue, their faces solemn and respectful.

The statue was carved from ordinary pine, but its form was grotesque—like a heap of blood-red rotten flesh, without features or limbs, neither human nor object, an abstraction in the extreme.

Yet the six Blood-Clad Men stood motionless, their expressions fraught with fear and anticipation, as if awaiting a crucial command.

Suddenly, the earth shook. The wooden statue erupted with crimson light, filling the chamber with a stench of blood. Then a weak, weary voice rang out, making all six men tremble to their core.

“I know everything you’ve done. To call you useless would be an insult to the word. You couldn’t even capture Lei Xiang, a mere early-stage Foundation Establishment brat, and you’ve lost nearly a hundred of our Foundation Establishment elites. Now even Old Seventh is dead. What do you want next? To offer me up to Lei Xiang as well?”

No one dared to reply.

The voice inspired a fear that seemed to seep into their bones. The six waited anxiously, uncertain how their leader would punish them.

After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the statue grew impatient. “Why so silent? Old Third, don’t you pride yourself on your cunning? Speak.”

The monkey-faced Blood-Clad Man blinked his small eyes and said timidly, “Alliance Leader, it’s not that we’re incompetent—Lei Xiang is just too crafty. I calculated everything, but I never imagined he alone could kill so many. I arranged for fifteen men to block him…”

“Nonsense!” The statue quivered in anger, the heap of flesh shuddering violently as the voice cut him off. “Fifteen men can block him, yet can’t stop one person? Is your brain full of rot?”

The monkey-faced man’s face twitched; he fell to his knees. “Yes, yes, the Alliance Leader is absolutely right.”

The weary voice sighed. “Enough. Forget about Lei Xiang for now. The urgent matter is defense. Our core strength has been shattered; they will soon attack in force. The dog emperor of Eastern Yue will rally all his power, including Core Formation cultivators, to destroy our Bloodfiend Alliance in a single blow. The true war is about to begin. Do as you see fit.”

With those words, the statue ceased all movement, even the crimson light fading away, returning to the appearance of an ordinary wooden carving.

Still, none dared to move, standing in silence, barely breathing. Each was puzzled—why had the Alliance Leader meted out no punishment this time? That was not his usual way.

After a long while, Old Third of the Eighteen Blood Slayers, the monkey-faced Core Formation cultivator, ventured to ask, “Alliance Leader, should we arrange the defenses ourselves?”

Half an hour passed with no response from the statue. The monkey-faced man blinked again, forcing a bitter smile at the others. “The Alliance Leader has departed. Let’s go to my place and discuss our countermeasures. The Eastern Yue Kingdom’s counterattack will be fierce—they’re prepared. If we fail to respond properly, it won’t just be the Alliance Leader’s punishment we face, but the loss of our own lives.”

With that, Old Third straightened, leading the others out of the secret chamber.

As the bloody stench slowly faded from the room, time passed in silence. Only when the last trace had vanished did the spiritual energy suddenly fluctuate, and two figures appeared out of thin air.