Volume 3 - Chapter 414: Li Hao's Dao-Origin Immortal Seal (Part 4)
Su Zhenyuan’s blood surged, fury blazing in his eyes. Without a second thought, he struck out—reason finally consumed by wrath.
The purple-robed man, as if expecting this, sneered and unleashed his aura, countering Su Zhenyuan’s attack with ease.
With a roar, Su Zhenyuan unleashed the pressure of a half-step Emperor. A torrent of force swept forth, condensing into two immortal shields that rushed to protect Su Hanshuang and Su Wenyue.
But in that moment, the purple-robed man lashed out with a pitch-black claw mark, its destructive energy tearing a chunk of flesh from Su Zhenyuan’s arm.
Su Zhenyuan stepped forward again, but just then, the golden-eyed man beside them released his own aura. His voice was cold as he said:
“What now? Planning to break the rules?”
Su Zhenyuan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold back. His gaze fell on his children, now sheltered behind his shields. That, at least, gave him a measure of solace.
“Heh… Getting worked up already?” the purple-robed man sneered. “You think that was cruel? Please. We demons have countless interrogation techniques—this was nothing.”
He chuckled lightly, unbothered, his words deliberately stoking Su Zhenyuan’s rage.
But he was shrewd. Sensing Jiang Qiuyu and Lin Daogong also on the verge of losing control, he offered a seemingly benevolent suggestion:
“Don’t say we didn’t give you a chance. The captives are right here. If you’re incapable of winning them back, that’s not our fault. Still… I’m willing to offer one more opportunity.”
His eyes gleamed with sly amusement, a hidden, chilling intent beneath them. “I’ll allow one of your defeated fighters to go up again. This Lin boy—he’s supposed to be your strongest, isn’t he? Let’s say he had an off day. We’ll give him a second chance.”
He smiled.
“If he wins, the terms remain. The wager stands.”
Lin Zhexuan’s expression darkened.
Again? A rematch? The outcome wouldn’t change.
This was clearly a ploy—to use the captives as bait, then goad them into offering Lin Zhexuan up for slaughter. That demonic woman was waiting for exactly that.
The trap was obvious.
The clan elders all turned their eyes to Lin Zhexuan. Their gazes were heavy—some filled with anger, others more conflicted.
They had indeed been furious when he surrendered without burning his soul. But this purple-robed demon’s motives were as clear as daylight.
They were ancient beings, most having lived tens of thousands of years. Grief and fury could shake them, but not control them. They could see clearly: the enemy wanted to destroy the human race’s most dangerous young threat—Lin Zhexuan.
So, this time, none of them urged him to fight again.
Internal disputes were one thing—but letting demons manipulate them? Unthinkable.
This solidarity was exactly why the Northern Territory had endured for so many years without being devoured.
“I’ve surrendered once. I won’t step up again,” Lin Zhexuan said coldly. “If she’s got the guts, let her come find me in a thousand years.”
The purple-robed man laughed. A thousand years? He had no intention of letting Lin Zhexuan live that long.
“What’s this—scared out of your wits already?”
He smiled coolly. “But if you do fight, and you win, I’ll count it as ten victories. Ten captives for one win. Do you dare?”
That line shifted the mood.
Ten people. One battle.
Even knowing the enemy’s scheme, hearts stirred.
Lin Zhexuan’s expression turned grim. This offer placed him squarely in the crosshairs. Refusal would make sense to those present—but what about the countless immortal citizens across the thirty-six thousand cities?
He raised his head and looked to Lin Daogong. If he refused on his own, it would ruin his name. But if someone else—his father—stepped in to decline for him, explaining the stakes, then the damage would be mitigated.
But Lin Daogong’s heart was in turmoil.
How could he be the one to tell his most beloved child not to fight—when his son was right there, watching?
‘Father… Don’t let him accept. Please don’t let him…’
Lin Yeqiu’s lips moved silently, his plea clear to anyone who could read them.
Lin Daogong’s gaze faltered. He couldn’t even meet his son’s eyes. His fists clenched.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Does Lin Zhexuan truly not dare take the field?”
“Ten lives for one battle! Even if you have to give your all, you must fight!”
“There’s no other way? We’re just going to give up?”
Across the immortal cities, an outcry began to grow. Lin Zhexuan was the best of their generation. Surely, even he was worth trading for ten former heroes?
He stood silent, expression stormy.
Nearby, the other young prodigies of the Su and Jiang clans looked toward him. Though they understood the purple-robed man’s trap, they couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the number one genius showed no courage, no fight.
Su Muqing stepped forward.
She looked Lin Zhexuan in the eye and asked softly, “Is there truly no chance?”
Lin Zhexuan’s heart clenched. He hadn’t expected that question—from the one who had grown up beside him.
His face turned grim. “Can’t you see what they’re doing?”
Su Muqing’s voice was low. “I see it. But… if you win, you can save them. All of them.”
Lin Zhexuan’s frustration deepened. He was being cornered. His tone sharpened. “Of course I know that. But can’t you see her strength? Even if I burn my soul, even with divine medicine—I only have a fifty-fifty chance!”
Su Muqing said nothing. She did understand. And maybe that’s why she felt so many things at once—disappointment, sorrow, guilt for pushing him… and yet, something inside her began to quiet.
“Fifty percent…” she whispered, lips barely moving. In the end, she said nothing more. She wanted to say that fifty percent was enough. That it was worth it.
She looked up, toward the war captives on the demon ship—especially her sister, Su Wenyue.
She remembered the gentle hands that used to hold hers, the snacks brought back from missions, the games in the courtyard…
As their eyes met, Su Wenyue looked down at her little sister—different mothers, same father—and smiled gently.
Reading the look in Su Muqing’s eyes, she shook her head. Her lips moved silently:
‘Don’t be foolish. They want you to die.’
“Wenyue-jie…”
Su Muqing’s gaze wavered, then grew determined.
She inhaled deeply and stepped forward.
“You said defeated fighters could fight again, right? Then let me go.”
She stepped past Lin Zhexuan, face set with unwavering resolve—like someone walking to her own execution.
Gasps rang out.
Su Zhenyuan reacted first, his face pale with rage. “What nonsense is this? Step down!”
“Are you insane?!”
Lin Zhexuan grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back. But she shook him off.
“Even if you burn your soul and take divine medicine, you can’t beat her! Don’t be rash!”
He was furious.
For the first time in his life, he shouted at Su Muqing. For the first time, he found her irrational and childish.
She didn’t answer. She simply said, “I want to try.”
“With your life?!”
His roar shook the air.
Su Muqing remained quiet. She wasn’t entirely acting on impulse. She truly believed… she might win.
Only she knew what lay dormant in her body. A second power. A terrifying force that had grown stronger as she advanced. A force she didn’t dare touch.
She didn’t know what would happen if she unleashed it. But she had a feeling—she might die.
And her instincts had saved her countless times.
Still… she felt now was the time to try.
If she died—but brought back her sister, freed the captives, slew a demonic genius wielding a Dao-Origin Immortal Seal—then human morale would soar, and the demons would be shaken.
All that, in exchange for one life?
So be it.
“Oh?”
The purple-robed man raised a brow, his eyes glinting. He smiled faintly.
“You want to fight? Very well.”
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