Chapter 147: The Wound of Love

Trapped within the illusory restriction, Wang Lin was unable to break free. He could only do his best to steady his spiritual consciousness and wait for recovery.

However, how could Li Mu afford him such an opportunity? The soul-piercing spear continuously spat out dark rays, coupled with the pitch-black claws, making Wang Lin look like a living target, entirely at the mercy of Li Mu's onslaught.

Much like many other cultivators, Wang Lin possessed no fourth-grade defensive magical attire. A fourth-grade shield fluttered randomly before him, completely clueless as to where it should defend.

That shield was a magical treasure he prized dearly, known as the Breeze Shield, and its greatest asset was its agility. Relying on spiritual consciousness, one could clearly discern the direction of an attack and parry it effectively. Yet, when the range of one's spiritual consciousness shrank to merely a few meters, this greatest asset turned into the most fatal flaw.

By the time an attack reached within a few meters of his eyes, attempting to manipulate the Breeze Shield was utterly out of the question; he could only endure the beating.

Only upon reaching the Core Formation stage could spiritual consciousness and true energy synchronize completely, achieving a state known as the mind moving in tandem with intention.

The third-grade protective robe was breached in no time, and various protective magical treasures deployed before him proved completely futile in saving his life.

Before even half an incense stick of time had passed, Wang Lin was brutally slain, reduced to a corpse resembling a sieve—his body intact, yet pierced by dozens of holes from the black claws.

A proud man, even in death, he could never have imagined he would meet such an end, truly an infuriating demise.

Li Mu let out a slight breath, retrieved Wang Lin's storage ring and magical treasures, and slowly sat cross-legged to adjust his state.

A single Mind-Confusing technique had consumed half of his true energy, and the subsequent soul-piercing spear had nearly exhausted the remainder. After shattering Wang Lin's defenses, Li Mu had almost no strength left to counterattack; thus, the majority of the wounds on Wang Lin's body had been inflicted by the black claw.

Without true energy circulating through the black claw, even the Mind-Confusing treasure would have resulted in a drawn battle. The defensive might of a late Pulse-Condensation cultivator was indeed terrifyingly formidable.

This battle had concluded far too swiftly, and though Li Mu appeared uninjured, the ordeal had been harrowing; a single misstep could have cost him his life.

The earlier strategy relied heavily upon the Mind-Confusing treasure—every detail was crucial. The area affected by the Mind-Confusing strike was minuscule, spanning merely a few meters, and managing to deploy it with such precision at point-blank range was truly a matter of fortune. Battles between Pulse-Condensation cultivators usually spanned distances of several dozen meters; with opponents so close, once an adversary unleashed their arts, one barely had time to think, leaving only evasion or parrying as options.

Regaining his composure quickly, Li Mu packed away the dust array and stood up to look ahead.

This area had all along been shrouded by the illusory restriction, but the other two Pulse-Condensation cultivators and the Drunken Madman had been locked in combat, leaving no one to notice that Wang Lin had already been slain.

Within the city, blood flowed like rivers, and no Spirit-Building cultivators remained in sight—all of them had been swiftly eliminated by the Drunken Madman first.

The Drunken Madman's body bore numerous bloody holes, yet he still stood firm as a mountain. Seeing him stride steadily, he soared into the sky with two leaps. "Shadow Sword Art!"

The sword spun in the air several times, instantly multiplying into nine, and the nine then split further.

A multitude of swords bloomed, blanketing an area of several dozen meters with terrifying sword light, pouring down like a torrential rainstorm towards the two remaining cultivators ahead.

Aware of the mortal danger, the two cultivators desperately brandished their finest magical treasures for defense.

Instantly, a continuous succession of loud, clashing detonations echoed through the air.

"Senior Drunken Madman, I shall assist you!"

Li Mu shouted loudly. His sudden appearance caught all the cultivators on the scene completely off guard.

At that very moment, Li Mu's hands did not idle; he brandished the Blood Crimson Sword he had just acquired, unleashing a long beam of light that lunged straight toward the two Pulse-Condensation cultivators.

The two were nearly a hundred meters apart. Armed with his newly acquired magical treasure, Li Mu's sword intent lacked the finesse of Wang Lin's, yet it pressed down upon the two cultivators with crushing weight.

"What is happening? There is someone behind us! Such sword light... Could it be City Lord Wang's Blood Crimson Sword? Could that person..."

Panic surged in their hearts. Disregarding the sword rain ahead, the two split up and dodged to opposite sides.

Swoosh!

The late Pulse-Condensation cultivator fared somewhat better, his speed allowing him to evade the brunt of the sword beam. However, the mid Pulse-Condensation cultivator lacked such luck, getting clipped four consecutive times. Bearing multiple wounds, he forced himself to maintain his flight.

"Not a single one of you shall escape!"

With a chilling expression, the Drunken Madman swung his sword in the sky, tracing a piercing arc. As light flashed, a cultivator plummeted from the heavens, slain outright.

The remaining cultivators dared not linger, transforming into rainbows of light and fleeing in frantic haste.

Their speed was blistering. Had Li Mu possessed spatial teleportation techniques, he might have given chase; as it stood, he could only watch helplessly as they fled.

Having unleashed a supreme sect art, the Drunken Madman's true energy was completely depleted, leaving him powerless to pursue. He could only watch them depart, beyond any hope of recovery.

Seeing the corpse upon the ground, Li Mu slowly seated himself. Noticing the Drunken Madman's state, Li Mu hurriedly advised, "Senior Drunken Madman, if you wish to recover, we must retreat to the rear. I have set up a restrictive array there, which is much safer. Once you adjust your breath, we must flee immediately; reinforcements will arrive shortly."

Closing his eyes, the Drunken Madman refused to move further and said coldly, "Let them come. We shall annihilate them together."

Stunned by this imposing aura, Li Mu was left speechless. Annihilate them? With what? In his current condition, a single Pulse-Condensation cultivator could easily overpower the Drunken Madman. Yet, undeterred, Li Mu produced a top-grade Spirit-Restoring Pill and tossed it toward the Drunken Madman. "A Spirit-Restoring Pill. You can make use of it."

Without glancing at it or offering thanks, the Drunken Madman swallowed it straight down, showing no fear of poison.

Scarcely had he consumed the pill when a peculiar hue washed over his face. He abruptly snapped his eyes open. "This is... top-grade?"

Li Mu nodded in silence, tossing out several array disks in the vicinity, of which he had an ample supply.

Watching him finish placing the disks, the Drunken Madman slowly asked, "Who are you?"

Li Mu paused, deep in thought. Back then, the Drunken Madman had scarcely paid him any proper heed, but during their previous encounter, he had worn the guise of Li Tian.

"This junior is Li Mu. I once received your grace, Senior, when you saved my life. Senior may be forgetful, but this junior has never forgotten."

Li Mu smiled. "Today, Senior aided me. Had Senior not intervened, I know not how long it would have taken me to exact vengeance upon Wang Lin—perhaps even a month or more."

"And who is this Wang Lin?"

A dazed look flickered in the Drunken Madman's eyes, seemingly gazing into an unknown distance.

"Ah." Li Mu remained briefly silent. The Drunken Madman truly lived up to his fearsome moniker.

"Senior, what brings you to Timber Wood City?"

"Slaughter. Every last person from the Bright Jade Valley shall be exterminated." A chilling glint flashed in the Drunken Madman's eyes, and his blood-stained face betrayed a hint of struggle. It was clear that the mere sight of anyone from the Bright Jade Valley would drive him to strike them down without hesitation.

"Fortunately, I have already changed out of my Bright Jade Valley robes."

Li Mu felt profoundly fortunate. Earlier, the Drunken Madman had clearly seemed a bit unstable, and he had heard rumors regarding the man's past—matters that could only evoke a sigh.

Turning away, Li Mu went into Timber Wood City to retrieve the Flowing Color Restriction, instructed the black claw to keep watch from the skies, and then returned to the Drunken Madman's side.

"Senior Drunken Madman, let us leave. The people of the Bright Jade Valley will surely return, and they number at least four Pulse-Condensation cultivators—not foes we can withstand." Li Mu said softly.

"You leave first. There is no need for you to stay here. Even if several of them come, I am not leaving."

The Drunken Madman abruptly stood up, surveyed the corpses littering the ground, and laughed up to the heavens. "Hehehe, Little Yu, I have avenged you. Hehehe."

Li Mu urged anxiously, "Senior Drunken Madman, please do not be like this."

"I have lingered in ignoble survival for decades, yet living like this is no life at all! I am going to slaughter them all—annihilate them! No one shall stop me. Whoever tries to stop me shall die!"

The Drunken Madman glared at Li Mu, roaring at the top of his lungs.

Since Qian Yu's death, he had survived in agony for decades. Yet upon laying eyes on the "Grief of Parting," all his suppressed emotions poured forth uncontrollably around it.

Consumed entirely by hatred, he no longer cared for anything else.

"I will surely eradicate the Bright Jade Valley. I will wipe them out utterly."

Acting like a madman, tears mixed with blood streamed ceaselessly down his face. A chilling glint suddenly locked onto Li Mu. "Leave, or die."

Li Mu stepped backward hurriedly, sensing that if he did not depart, the Drunken Madman might genuinely strike.

Such a state in a cultivator was something he had heard much of in this world—those trapped by romance and driven to madness by love almost always ended up thus.

He had never imagined that among cultivators, there would exist individuals of such profound and unyielding passion.