Chapter Ninety-Nine: Returning to One’s True Form

To obtain the antidote, Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo ordered his soldiers to release the Tuoli Leopard. Just as they were about to untie the ropes, a loud shout stopped them.

"Wait!" It was Ye Feng.

"Master, we cannot release the Tuoli Leopard. As for Uncle Master's poison, our righteous army has a celestial medicine that can cure it. We don't need to be held hostage by that old monster in the purple robe!" Ye Feng cursed the Purple-Robed Demon Venerable bitterly while comforting Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo.

"Oh? What celestial medicine is it?" Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo’s eyebrows arched, his face lighting up with joy.

"The Bodhi Soul-Returning Herb, a miraculous medicine cultivated by the two elders of Mount Cuixia. It can cure any poison in the world!"

Upon hearing these words, Immortal Venerable Jinling was instantly revitalized. With a grunt, he attempted to stand, but after raising one leg, he let out a strange cry of "Ouch!" and plopped back onto the ground.

"Uncle Master, don't panic, I will help you!" Seeing this, Ye Feng rushed forward, supporting him with both hands, intending to take him back to the camp to administer the herb.

"Don't... don't... don't worry about me. There... there are still many demon soldiers!" Immortal Venerable Jinling gently pushed Ye Feng away, took several deep breaths, and returned to his silent meditation.

Indeed, the battle was not yet over; how could Ye Feng leave? He looked at the countless golden gate signs in the formation, wondering how many ambushed troops were hidden within. If he left, and the hidden demon soldiers swarmed out, how could his subordinates hold them back?

Just as Ye Feng was caught in a dilemma, a loud voice rang out: "Ye... Ye... Marshal Ye, Li... Li... Li Yiqing has come to assist you!"

Ye Feng looked toward the sound and saw Li Yiqing, the Little Spirit Monkey of the Thousand-Mountain Crags, sprinting over like a gust of wind. Ye Feng was overjoyed and called out, "General Li, come quickly!"

Before his voice died away, another shout echoed: "Marshal Ye, I, Mu Shijin, have come to help!"

A tall horse arrived like a whirlwind. A general jumped down, sporting a beard over two feet long, braided with red rope. It was none other than the "Thousand-Faced Wanderer," Mu Shijin!

"It is truly fortunate that both generals have arrived!" Ye Feng smiled and nodded. "Have the Wind-Fire Glazed Array and the Black Water Yin Soldier Array been broken?"

The two clasped their fists and replied, "Marshal, rest assured! The Wind-Fire Glazed Array, the Black Water Yin Soldier Array, and the Green Wood Soul-Chasing Array have all been broken. Di Tailei was killed, and Haomei and Miaojun were captured alive. That so-called 'Ten Thousand Demon Yin-Nether Array' was unexpectedly fragile!"

Ye Feng nodded in approval and glanced back at the Tuoli Leopard, who hung his head in dismay.

"Since you two have come to assist, has the army been arranged? Be careful of a counterattack from the demon soldiers!"

The two nodded, "Marshal, don't worry, everything is well-arranged!"

Ye Feng’s brow smoothed, and his mood lifted. Suddenly remembering Immortal Venerable Jinling, he said, "I have a task for you two, and you must ensure it is completed."

They stood straight and replied, "We will follow your orders!"

"Go, help Immortal Venerable Jinling up and escort him back to the camp," Ye Feng directed, pointing at the Venerable. "The old Immortal has been poisoned by the larva of the Five-Colored Dream Butterfly from the Purple-Robed Demon Venerable. After you escort him back, quickly ask Marshal Murong for the Bodhi Soul-Returning Herb. I fear that if you are late, his life will be in jeopardy!"

The two were shocked. Looking where Ye Feng pointed, they saw Immortal Venerable Jinling sitting cross-legged, his entire body turning pitch-black, looking weak and breathless.

"Quick! Quick!..." Without waiting to reply to Ye Feng, they rushed over. One helped the old Venerable onto the horse, and Li Yiqing led the horse, sprinting away at full speed. To lighten the load, Mu Shijin did not ride; he summoned his single-blade and flew upon it. Before long, the three had vanished from sight.

When Ye Feng returned to look at Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo and the Purple-Robed Demon Venerable, the two had already assumed their combat stances, ready to clash.

The Purple-Robed Demon Venerable swung his horsetail whisk and cursed, "Old thief Xuanhuo, just now, you two old things bullied me together, and I was wary of you. Now that Immortal Venerable Jinling is poisoned and has returned to camp, why should I fear you? If you don't release the Tuoli Leopard, I will be your sworn enemy!"

With that, he lunged forward, raising his palm to strike!

The palm strike carried a fierce wind and a faint, pungent purple miasma. Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo was enraged, shouting, "Well come!" as he raised his own whisk to meet the attack.

As they began to fight, Ye Feng was stunned. The battle was spectacular—a breathtaking sight!

One was incredibly swift; his palm and whisk danced, creating countless illusions and swirling purple energy. His movements were so erratic that one could not tell which purple figure was real and which was a decoy. The other, however, was elegant and graceful, each move steady and deliberate, as if the surrounding chaos had nothing to do with him, acting like an old man practicing alone on a mountain peak.

The soldiers were anxious for the seemingly slow Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo, but Ye Feng knew better. This was a defensive strategy of "striking only after the enemy has made their move," which required the ability to anticipate the enemy's intent. Only then could one strike where the enemy was most vulnerable. Over time, the opponent would grow exhausted, becoming passive and exposed.

Sure enough, before long, the Purple-Robed Demon Venerable’s movements slowed, and his many illusions faded back into a single figure. Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo, meanwhile, moved with effortless grace, his attacks becoming increasingly fierce.

Seeing the Demon Venerable falter, Ye Feng felt a surge of joy. Suddenly, the Demon Venerable retreated, performed a side-flip, and produced an object in his left hand, ready to throw it!

"Master, watch out for the hidden weapon!" Ye Feng cried out in terror.

Before he finished, a colorful, pungent thing flew through the air like a meteor toward Xuanhuo's face.

"Oh no!" Xuanhuo shouted, leaning sideways to narrowly dodge it. He became alert, his ears pricked to track the creature, fearing a sneak attack from behind.

The Purple-Robed Demon Venerable would not grant him such an opportunity. "Die, you old fool!" he roared. With a snap of his whisk, the threads turned into steel needles, striking toward Xuanhuo's chest, while his left hand turned into a claw, aiming for the Venerable's shoulder. Forced to defend, Xuanhuo returned to the fray.

Ye Feng watched with his heart in his throat. As the saying goes, it is easy to dodge a spear in the open, but hard to guard against a hidden arrow. Xuanhuo could handle the open attacks, but if that Five-Colored Dream Butterfly larva were to suddenly emerge, how could he resist?

Ye Feng kept his eyes locked on the Venerable. Suddenly, a colorful little bug flew from a small tree—its wings were as beautiful as its body was ugly. It flapped toward the Venerable.

Ye Feng reached into his pouch, gripping the throwing knife Li Yiqing had stolen. He took aim, pulled it out, and shouted, "Take this!"

With a "whoosh," the knife flew like lightning—faster than the insect—striking it mid-air. With a splash of fluid, the bug was severed in two and fell dead to the ground.

"Purple-Robed Demon Venerable, use whatever other tricks you have! I shall take them all!" Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo shouted with delight.

The Demon Venerable panicked, and, caught off guard, was kicked to the ground by Xuanhuo.

"Tie him up!" At the Venerable’s command, the soldiers swarmed forward, binding the Purple-Robed Demon Venerable tightly. But as they brought him before the Immortal, they realized the purple robe was empty—the person inside had vanished!

"Hmph, you think you can run? It won't be that easy!" The old Venerable looked around and saw an old man in the southeastern sky, bare-chested and fleeing in panic. The Venerable sneered, pulled an ancient mirror from his robe, and chanted a spell, casting it at the fleeing figure.

The mirror flew through the air, reflecting a searing beam of sunlight onto the man. With a loud shriek, the man tumbled to the ground.

Immortal Venerable Xuanhuo flew after him, with Ye Feng close behind. When they arrived, the mirror remained suspended in the air, its power undiminished. The man on the ground screamed and writhed in agony, eventually revealing his true form—a molted, ten-thousand-year-old pangolin! His skin was wrinkled and hideous.

"Immortal Venerable, spare me! I, Purple Robe, surrender!" the old pangolin begged.

"You old monster," the Venerable said sternly, "considering your ten thousand years of cultivation, I will not pursue your crimes against humanity today. Begone!" He withdrew the mirror.

"Master, wait! If this monster leaves, he will surely cause trouble again!" Ye Feng warned, feeling anxious.

"Disciple, he can no longer stir up trouble. Do you know what his purple robe was? It was his own shell, cultivated over eons to resist all attacks! If he hadn't removed it, my Soul-Capturing Mirror wouldn't have subdued him so easily." He pointed to the creature's retreating, limping figure. "Now that he has lost his shell and been exposed to my mirror, his demonic power is gone. He will likely hide in deep caves for the rest of his life. If he ventures out, even common jackals or tigers could devour him."

Looking at the old creature's pathetic figure, Ye Feng felt a pang of pity.

"Let’s go! Back to the Ten Thousand Demon Yin-Nether Array, we have the aftermath to clear up!" The old Venerable laughed, took Ye Feng's hand, and walked back. Feeling the warmth of his master’s hand, Ye Feng’s melancholy vanished, and he followed closely.

Back at the Luoyan Ridge, the array was in ruins—enemy flags and weapons were scattered everywhere, and corpses lay in disarray as prisoners were marched past. Ye Feng felt no joy in victory. He looked at the bodies, seeking out every fallen soldier, wiping their faces and straightening their clothes, hoping to give them a dignified burial. His heart was heavy; he wished only for an end to war, so that these warriors could rest in peace and their families could live in happiness.

Before long, the battlefield was cleared. Ye Feng led his army down the ridge, where Murong Yan had been waiting. They found that not a single demon soldier had escaped; all had been captured or surrendered.

The two armies merged, ready to return to camp to summarize the battle and reward the victors.