Chapter 87. Master Cong’s Encounter

Chapter 87. Master Cong’s Encounter

“Who are you? Lin Nuo?!”

Master Cong shouted, but the masked man gave no response.

The masked man leapt down from the stone peak, and with a bang! Two huge holes exploded at his landing spot.

A terrifying aura made Master Cong feel as if he were facing a formidable enemy.

Purple flames trailed wherever the longsword passed.

Master Cong concluded that this couldn’t possibly be Lin Nuo—his strength didn’t reach this level. Perhaps it was a manifestation of Lin Nuo’s inner demons? This dark illusion possessed world-destroying power.

Master Cong didn’t expect to encounter such a powerful inner demon; Lin Nuo must have been killed already.

With the barrier just set up, he couldn’t withdraw yet, but he was confident he could defeat this inner demon.

What was meant to complicate things for Lin Nuo ended up helping him destroy the inner demon. Once they got out, he’d make sure to report to Master Zhao, and Han Fairy would owe him a big favor.

Master Cong gathered his spirit energy, channeling it into the Sharp Sword in his hand, the spiritual light shimmering, and a violent gust whipped up.

“How strong you might be, you are ultimately just a junior’s inner demon. I’ve mastered secret techniques for many years, with countless demons sliced down by my sword.”

Master Cong smiled confidently, and suddenly his feet left the ground, soaring up like a dragonfly skimming water.

With his will as the sword, the spiritual light shone broadly, Master Cong, resembling a saint, swung down fiercely at the masked man.

However.

The masked man simply waved his Dragon-patterned Black Sword, and in an instant, a black dragon soul flew out, opening its massive jaws to bite down on the spiritually-encased Master Cong.

Master Cong tried to dispel the black dragon soul, facing it head-on, but as the dragon soul bit down completely, all the spiritual light and protective energy disappeared.

Boom!

The black dragon soul exploded, and without his protection, Master Cong fell from the sky, tumbling among the rubble.

“Cough cough…”

Master Cong coughed, surprised by the explosive power of the black dragon soul—it really took him by shock.

He quickly adjusted his stance.

Yet.

The black dragon-patterned sword was suddenly at his throat; the masked man had approached him completely unawares.

The speed was astonishing and utterly silent, catching him off guard.

He had already lost—not only had he fallen embarrassingly, but he was also being threatened like a battle-worn general, waiting for his enemy’s execution.

If an ordinary disciple were to crumble under the pressure of their inner demons, it would certainly tarnish Master Cong’s reputation.

Now that he was close to the inner demon, a pair of blood-red eyes appeared beneath the skull mask, sending chills down his spine.

Fear—something he had never succumbed to with strong enemies—gripped him with intense terror.

Though this was merely an illusion, it felt as though he were truly about to be killed, awakening a deep desire for survival within Master Cong.

“Don’t…!”

He was about to shout, but as the sword fell in an instant, blood splattered, and Master Cong’s body was consumed by a swirling mass of fierce purple flames, turning to ash and scattering with the wind.

Silence returned to the valley, and everything darkened once more.

Beneath the skull mask, a chilling smile appeared.

There was no inner demon here, or rather, the greatest inner demon was himself.

Any consciousness attempting to infiltrate his dark illusion would face immense mental torment.

……

“Master Cong! Master Cong?!”

In reality, Master Cong suddenly felt weak and collapsed to the ground, prompting others to rush over to help him.

“He’s fainted, his energy weak and pulse erratic. We need to stabilize him with spirit energy.”

Master Zhao quickly channeled his energy, managing to steady Master Cong, but he still hadn’t awakened.

“This symptom is precisely that of succumbing to the impact of dark illusions. Mental destruction leads to unconsciousness, doesn’t it? What has he experienced?”

Master Zhao surmised based on his observations. How could it be that Master Cong lost consciousness after entering the illusion? Was this a mishap within his own dark illusion?

As a respected master, he should have been able to overcome this.

Disciples began collapsing one after another; those who couldn’t withstand the assault of the dark illusions suffered mental destruction, falling into unconsciousness. Among them were some quite skilled disciples, including Liu Shuqin.

Then there was Su Kexin; she didn’t last long before falling. The destruction of the Peach Blossom Garden and her inexplicable act of stabbing Lin Nuo had hit her hard.

As for Lin Nuo?

He had long since collapsed, though he wasn’t the quickest to do so—there were others who fell within three seconds, actually wilting in three seconds flat.

Of course, while others truly fell, he merely pretended.

He had no dark illusion, or rather, he had accepted the darkness long ago; this minor technique posed no threat to him whatsoever.

But he had to maintain the act a bit more; if Master Cong had fallen, he couldn’t simply remain upright. Plus, if he collapsed before Master Cong, he could pin the blame on the inner demon.

This way, he could offload the blame onto himself.

The fainted disciples were carried out while the elders and masters performed rituals to calm their spirits. After a while, they began to gradually awaken, but they would still remember everything from the dark illusion—the terrifying scenes vividly lingering in their minds.

Lin Nuo thought it was about time and woke up, feigning the terror of having just faced a nightmare.

“Master, senior brother…”

He heard the sound of a girl weeping nearby.

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