Chapter 35: Leaving
Screaming men, women, and children rushed about as Cha Ming walked away from the smoldering rubble of the Spirit Temple. The shield had faded a short while ago due to his battle with the Shepherd, and its sudden appearance had frightened the local populace. Elsewhere in the city, he felt the Blood Master Monastery’s shield shuddering uncontrollably, as though it would break at any minute. Whereas the Spirit Temple’s shield had failed due to damage to his soul, the other shield was simply running out of energy. Despite the revelation, however, the Space-Time Camera had done its job. The destruction was obvious, but there were no living witnesses to what had transpired.
Now Cha Ming had to face the cold hard truth. He’d agonized over this moment for a long time and wondered about how he could minimize the massive casualties that would undoubtedly result from his actions. It was only now that he felt the cold reality of it: People were dying, good people. Though most of this was due to the untimely detonation of his sabotaged device, which would ideally have been brought north of the wall prior to its activation, the end result was that a third of the palace had been destroyed, and demonic spiders, metallic legs and all, had broken into the city. He couldn’t blame outside interference, either. Regardless of the explosion, he’d planned on doing something similar with the wall prior to leaving. The demonic tide, coinciding with the Taotie’s attack, was simply too much for the city to bear.
Cha Ming was blind now, his normal vision blocked by the Devil-Sealing, Demon-Subduing, and Spirit-Banishing Intent within them. Yet despite this handicap, he could still “see” with his soul. He could feel each wound and each death as it happened. Every bit of suffering he inflicted on the innocent fed a tiny ochre speck of sin that latched onto his soul, tainting it. No amount of merit could get rid of that stain. It could only mask it, outshine it.
What’s done is done, Cha Ming thought, continuing his scan as he walked. Right now, his priority was to escape. He had to decide whether he would run opposite the Taotie, avoiding the location where enemy forces were most concentrated, or if he should fly into the chaos, using the fighting as a smokescreen to escape. All around the Taotie, a dozen transcendents were fighting. The emperor was notably absent, but Cha Ming had noticed him fighting the Life-Leaching Monarch along with the surprisingly powerful Miss Ge.
That didn’t stop the emperor’s sons from fighting, however. They, along with a hundred peak-core-formation cultivators and half-step transcendents, were assisting the transcendents as they could. Prince Shen was especially prominent. He wielded a familiar black spear—Feng Ming’s old lucky spear—using it to great effect against the creature’s now shrinking body. He fought beside two of his sisters, both powerful cultivators of the Ji royal family. Their bodies were laden with valuable treasures that amplified their strength, defense, and speed.
As Cha Ming pondered over his escape plan, a wall suddenly fell beside him as a shock wave came from the fighting near the barracks. A man with a familiar aura was fighting, long weapon in hand lashing out with sweeping strikes that felled dozens at a time. With every strike, he was wounded by the veritable army that surrounded him. Powerful regeneration healed any injuries he sustained.
Is that a trident he’s fighting with? Cha Ming thought. He remembered someone he’d clashed with some time ago. Gong Xuandi? Is that you?
No reply. He was confident in his assessment, however—he knew of no other trident-wielding half-step-blood-awakening cultivator who fought with such ferocity. He was surrounded by dozens of peak-core-formation experts, and five half-step transcendents. Despite his power, he was clearly on the losing end.
To help or not to help, he thought. If he helped, he might blow his cover and ruin everything. They weren’t very good friends, after all, even if the man did serve under Feng Ming due to Gong Shuren’s orders. To help or not to help. What a troubling question.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Feng Ming chastised himself as he dodged sword, spear, and saber while running through the western wing of the palace. He’d taken about half the treasury before being spotted, a heist he was very proud of. His ring was filled with spirit stones, rare gems, medicinal pills, and weapons. Many rare and unique herbs, which had been carefully stored in jade boxes and preserved for over a decade, were now resting happily in the void space on his finger.
His luck wasn’t all good. During his pilfering, he’d triggered an alarm, attracting the remaining few powerhouses in the palace. That included the head of the imperial guard, a half-step-transcendent spear wielder with devastating offensive maneuvers. The man wore black armor instead of the usual golden, and his every attack was filled with destructive lightning.
“Stand still and accept your fate, thief,” the head of the guard said angrily. He swept out with his spear, which generated a black lightning dragon that let out a thunderous roar. The roar paralyzed Feng Ming, who’d been weakened by the Life-Leaching Monarch, for a split second. It was enough for the spear to pierce his armor and graze his shoulder, leaving a three-inch gouge that cut down to the bone.
Lightning ran through his body, scorching the flesh where he’d been struck. In response, he kicked out with his boot. He struck one of the two other individuals attacking him, one of the princes of the Ji Kingdom. His boot struck true, and he pushed off, barely avoiding a saber strike that threatened to cut off his foot. The push allowed him to extricate himself from the spear long enough to catch a deep breath, form hand seals, and blow hard.
A raging inferno appeared from his mouth, surrounding the two princes and the head of
