Chapter 372: Playing the Pig to Eat the Tiger!
Inside the Immortal Asylum, the Primordial Guards streamed in one after another, causing a great commotion. They pressed forward from eight entrances, nearly sealing off every possible escape route for any Old Immortals trying to break free.
"Stay sharp, everyone!"
It was clear that the group of over 250 was dead serious.
Advancing step by step, they finally converged near the Eight Trigrams arena, securing all strategic points. Their white armor shimmered with a cold light in the darkness, each bearing a circular Return symbol on their chest plates, marking their supreme status from the Primordial Ruins.
"Who's in charge here?" Barely had they taken their positions when a young man with golden eyes, Yuan Wu, emerged from the shadows, eyeing the Primordial Guards.
No sooner had he spoken than a towering woman with an unparalleled aura stepped forward, casting a glance at the young man from her elevated position.
"Zhang Qingwei, it's you!" Yuan Wu's pupils shrank slightly, his expression turning somewhat grim. Clearly, he wasn't thrilled to see her.
"Where's the remains of the Nian?" Zhang Qingwei asked coldly, clad in armor.
"I've already crippled it. It's no threat now," Yuan Wu responded coolly, clearly not too pleased.
"Crippled by you? Was the Nian that weak?" Zhang Qingwei raised her brows in inquiry.
"Just a minor breakout," Yuan Wu replied nonchalantly.
Hearing this, the fully armed Primordial Guards let out a sigh of relief. The news of a Nian breaking out had indeed made them nervous upon entering the Immortal Asylum.
After a moment of contemplation, Zhang Qingwei commanded, "Seal all exits and conduct a thorough search. Kill anything that tries to escape, leaving not even a speck of dust behind."
"Yes!" The Primordial Guards dispersed, each to their task.
"If I may trouble you for a small favor," Yuan Wu suddenly said, catching everyone by surprise. It was unusual for someone of his noble lineage to ask for help.
"Speak," Zhang Qingwei said, slightly taken aback.
"My younger brother, Yuan Jian, has also entered the Immortal Asylum, and I've lost track of him. Please, keep an eye out for him," Yuan Wu requested directly.
The Primordial Guards exchanged glances. This task seemed simple enoughshould they encounter him, a shout would suffice.
Without further ado, they scattered again, and it wasn't long before a team came racing back with news, "Found it! It's cornered!"
"Let's go!" Zhang Qingwei and the young man with golden eyes, flanked by a contingent of Primordial Guards, hastened towards the scene. About 200 guards dashed along, swift as the wind and lightning.
These Martial Cultivators moved with the grace of demons, their agility and speed unparalleled. As they advanced, they summoned whirlwinds and trod on bolts of lightning, turning their mastery of the mystical arts into a dazzling display.
They plunged into a dark tunnel, pursuing their quarry until they reached a dead end, where a massive fissure loomed before them, darkness yawning beyond. The rocks beneath the fissure were stained with blood, a testament to the countless bones shattered here. This was the very spot where Yun Xiao first encountered the Old Immortals grinding flesh into meatballs!
With a roar, the Primordial Guards halted, sealing off the tunnel. They peered ahead, where over 900 battered and bloodied Old Immortals were cornered. Most were grievously injured, missing limbs and bleeding profusely, their desperation making them ferociously bare their teeth and hiss at their captors.
Among them was the fiery-haired Old Immortal, his chest caved in and face cracked, teetering on the brink of death.
"Seems it really was just a breakout of the elderly. Bit of overkill," Zhang Qingwei remarked coolly, casting a glance at the young man with golden eyes.
"Bringing all these Primordial Guards to kill a chicken with a bull's axe," the young man retorted, arms crossed, his gaze deep. "Had our intelligence been better, I alone would have sufficed."
"Well then, be my guest. We'll cover you. The glory's all yours," Zhang Qingwei replied, unimpressed.
Heeding her words, the young man didn't utter a single complaint but charged alone towards the thousand Old Immortals, those he had already bested.
Now, they were but easy prey.
"If only we hadn't been so jittery about the legendary might of the Nian," he mused. Had he known this, he wouldn't have sent his brother to report back; he could have claimed all the glory for himself.
In the thick of it, with the Primordial Guards either lending a hand or not, it seemed they'd still snag a slice of the glory pie. Not the most ideal situation. The young man with golden eyes zeroed in on that fiery-haired Old Immortal, and with a booming sound, transformed into a dazzling streak of golden light, barreling towards him.
BOOM! Wherever he went, the other Old Immortals were sent flying, battered and bruised.
"This Nian really is a pushover," the Primordial Guards muttered among themselves.
"Locked up too long, it's just having its last hurrah."
It was a sight that stirred a mix of emotions, turning the tense standoff into more of a spectator sport for the Primordial Guards. Even those tasked with sealing off the area couldn't help but wander in, their guard completely lowered.
And then, with a thunderous roar, the young man with golden eyes brutally split the fiery-haired Old Immortal in two, his body exploding into bits that were swiftly consumed by golden flames, reduced to ash.
"History should stay history; no coming back from the dead," he remarked as he dusted off his hands and stepped over the remains, casting a glance at the Primordial Guards.
"Formidable."
"Exceptionally talented!"
"A true master of the Martial Dao!"
Praises filled the air, the gazes of the Primordial Guards filled with genuine admiration.
"Come clean this up, and we're done here," the young man said, clearly not in the mood to deal with the remaining small fry, making his way over to the guards.
With the fiery-haired Old Immortal out of the picture, the rest seemed inconsequential, mere paper tigers in the eyes of the Primordial Guards.
Landing beside Zhang Qingwei with a thud that cracked the ground beneath his iron boots, he wasn't met with awe but a simple command from her to clean up and head back. "You really didn't need to come," he said, eyeing the frail Old Immortals before them.
"I wouldn't say that," Zhang Qingwei shrugged, "At least I can help look for your missing brother, right? Who knows, maybe we'll find his head in one of their bellies."
His eyes narrowed, a chill running through the air at her words.
The matter of the younger brother was indeed becoming quite the conundrum. "Where could he have possibly gone?" he pondered, his headache intensifying by the moment. But then, as if on cue, a subtle shift occurred.
"Hmm?" Zhang Qingwei felt an unexpected shiver down her spine. Peering ahead, she caught sight of a massive, murky yellow eye that had mysteriously appeared within the fissure, its gaze unsettling and eerie, sweeping over the Primordial Guards with an inscrutable look.
"Could it be? It's been imprisoned here? In this vast crack?" The young man with golden eyes felt a chill run down his spine, momentarily taken aback.
Zhang Qingwei's face paled instantly, and she barked, "Move, now!"
But it was too late; they had been lured into a perilously tight spot.
In an instant, the dull yellow eye shot out a beam of red light, bathing the entire Eight Trigrams arena. The battered Old Immortals caught in its glow began to regenerate flesh and bone, their bodies snapping back to form with a series of crackles, standing tall and whole once more. Their severe injuries miraculously healed in moments.
What was truly terrifying was the growth of new crimson hair on these 900 rejuvenated Old Immortals under the red light, all in the span of just three breaths.
Before Zhang Qingwei, the golden-eyed youth, and the 200 Primordial Guards, stood 900 fully restored, ferocious, and belligerent fiery-haired Old Immortals.
"Uh..." The young man's face drained of color as he clenched his teeth, "Impossible, playing the pig to eat the tiger?"
"Run!" Zhang Qingwei was the first to shout, her voice sharp.
One fiery-haired Old Immortal was nearly a match for the young man with golden eyes; facing over 900 was unfathomable. Not even 250 Primordial Guards could make a dent.
"Was its real target the Primordial Guards? Indeed, the effect of consuming 200 Primordial Guards would surpass all the cultivators in this world by tenfold!" The realization made the young man's skin crawl.
"This could mean... Yuan Jian might be... gone." His heart truly sank at that thought.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
It was only then, deep in the heart of the trap and having let their guard down, that the Primordial Guards realized the direness of their escape.
Roar after roar tore through the air as the fiery-haired Old Immortals, mouths agape with crimson fury, charged like mad beasts, heralding a nightmare that had just begun.
No sooner had the words left their lips than those fiery-haired Old Immortals appeared behind the Primordial Guards, each seemingly stronger than the guards themselves.
"No!"
Many guards, who were just a tad slower, were immediately pounced upon by a dozen of these fierce beings. Before they could muster any defense, they were torn asunder, their bodies rended into pieces.
The Old Immortals, clutching arms, heads, and legs, began to gnaw voraciously, blood flowing freely.
"Run!"
A desperate cry rang out, echoing the terror in the hearts of the Primordial Guards.
They were too close, their daoist spells useless against the onslaught of the fiery-haired menace. For the Nian, this moment, long awaited, was its chance to unleash fury.
Before the Nine Hells Conquest Clash, it had devoured thousands, its power growing with each life consumed.
What baffled the young man with golden eyes the most was the sheer strength of these Old Immortals, each far surpassing the one they had encountered earlier.
It dawned on him; they had been duped, the previous display a mere feint.
Escape would have been possible in the Eight Trigrams arena, with its eight gates. But here, in this narrow corridor, they were trapped.
"No wonder they breached the Immortal Asylum's gates yet didn't pursue further; they were waiting for fresh prey to wander into their trap!"
The prey had to be just right, sufficient for the Nian to handle but not enough to overwhelm it. The thought alone sent shivers down their spines, the impending doom palpable.
Screams filled the air as one Primordial Guard after another was brought down and devoured, their cries of agony a stark reminder of their grim fate. Even the battle-hardened were shaken to their core, their bodies consumed before their souls could even depart.
Who could withstand such horror?
As suppressed as the Old Immortals had been earlier, their release was equally vicious, turning the corridor into a blood-soaked path of carnage.
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