She stopped in her tracks, squatted down, lifted the person's face, and asked, “Still alive?”
The palm resting on his face was slightly cool, carrying a very faint, crisp scent of medicinal herbs.
A metallic sweetness welled up in Jingyu's throat.
He swallowed the blood, groggily lifting his eyelashes, and locked eyes with a pair of clear, cold eyes.
That gaze was inexplicably familiar, yet more distant and colder than the one in his memory—like snow on a mountain that never melted all year round—causing him to daze for a brief moment.
The next moment, he snapped out of it.
This wasn't Song Yao.
This was Song Yao's junior sister.
She actually bore some resemblance to her.
He regained his clarity, pushing himself up from the ground and casually wiping away the blood at the corner of his lips.
Though his soft armor had protected him when the faceless demon threw him earlier, he had still sustained some minor injuries.
He looked at the two of them, his voice slightly hoarse. “I'm fine. Seventh Junior Sister, Junior Brother Ning, how are you two?”
“We're fine,” Song Yao replied.
She withdrew her hand and looked toward the depths where the black mist surged. “Are there other demons and cultivators in this purgatory?”
Jingyu nodded. His gaze drifted toward the battle, and though he felt something was off, he answered her first, “Quite a few. But the faceless demon and that resentful male demon are the two most powerful demons here. Our group has been locked up for days, and after searching around for a long time, we finally found the faceless demon's lair. If we can deal with her, we might be able to leave this place...”
His voice came to an abrupt halt as he finally saw the situation clearly. His eyes trembled slightly as he asked in a rushed tone, “Where did that sword come from? Who is controlling it?”
When he had been thrown earlier, everyone was still utterly defenseless against the faceless demon.
Yet the moment he woke up, the two sides were already locked in a back-and-forth battle.
Looking closer, he realized that the pale green sword was the one dominating the fight.
Ning Zhou's heart skipped a beat.
Song Yao had hidden her identity for so long, undoubtedly because she was worried about too many enemies coming after her.
This young prince of the mermen race had a deep connection with her, and there might be some messy, complicated romantic history between them.
He absolutely couldn't let him discover her true identity.
He instinctively tried to cover for her. “That sword suddenly appeared out of nowhere. We don't know either...”
Song Yao interrupted him, “It's mine.”
Ning Zhou: “...”
Hiss—
Why was she dropping her act?
Did she not want her secret identity anymore?
Or did she just not care about living?
He silently backed away a bit.
Sure enough, the look in the young prince of the mermen race's eyes shifted repeatedly. “Your... your sword? You're controlling it?”
Song Yao gave an "un" of assent and turned to look back.
Although the faceless demon was at a disadvantage under the siege of so many people, this was her domain after all. It wouldn't be easy to completely defeat her.
If this dragged on and the demon toxin kicked in, that would be the real trouble.
She pondered for a moment, then raised her hand.
The coral longbow lying on the ground not far away rose into the air and landed steadily in her palm. “Lend me this for a moment.”
Though her tone was conversational, it clearly brooked no refusal.
Jingyu stared at her, complex and indescribable emotions churning in his eyes.
He had just opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the person in front of him had already turned sideways and drawn the coral bow into a full moon.
Pale green spiritual energy slowly spread along the patterns of the bow, condensing on the string into a glossy, blue-white water arrow with a tip forged of biting, cold light.
The next moment, she released her fingers.
The sharp arrow shot through the air, so fast it left only a blur.
The faceless demon was just lunging at the cultivator at the very front. By the time she realized what was happening and looked up, the water arrow had already pierced deep into her mouth, pinning her body and the arrow securely to the cold stone wall a hundred meters behind.
A shriek so shrill it cracked suddenly exploded.
Dark red demonic blood snaked down the stone wall.
The surrounding cultivators hadn't expected this sudden turn of events. They dazed for a second before hurriedly surrounding her with their swords to prevent her from recovering and launching another attack.
Once they confirmed she couldn't easily break free, everyone turned their heads in unison to look at the figure standing with the lowered bow.
It was her.
The Seventh Personal Disciple of the Nine Saints Hall?
This single arrow required at least a Nascent Soul cultivation level.
How old was she?
Moreover, her reputation as a pill cultivator seemed to be widely known.
A pill cultivator who could also use a bow?
The cultivators were astounded by the heaven-defying strength of the Nine Saints Hall personal disciple, leaving them speechless for a moment.
Song Yao casually handed the coral bow back to the still-stunned Jingyu. She slightly raised her eyelids, and the Bishui Sword returned to its sheath by her side.
Everyone's pupils dilated once again.
Wait a minute.
This sword that had appeared out of thin air to rescue them from the brink of disaster was also hers?!
Those sword techniques from earlier... were they all performed by her?!
Was this a cultivation level a normal person could possess?
Something was off.
There was something ten-thousand percent off about this person.
Song Yao didn't think there was anything unusual and walked toward the faceless demon.
The cultivators automatically parted to make a path for her, watching blankly as she walked right up to the faceless demon.
She looked up at her, then reached out and pulled the arrow out.
The faceless demon collapsed weakly to the ground, her entire body seemingly melting into a puddle before gradually shrinking and returning to the appearance of the woman from before.
Her beautiful eyes were filled with sheer terror as she croaked in a hoarse voice, “Who are you?! Who on earth are you!”
Song Yao squatted down and smiled. “Clearly, I asked the questions first. Not only did you refuse to answer, but you're also asking me instead. Where is the sense in that?”
She patted the faceless demon's head and coaxed, “Come on, answer me first. Where are the love threads stored? How do we undo it?”
The faceless demon trembled all over.
What terrifying pressure.
It was thousands of times more terrifying than the master of this demon realm, Immortal Venerable Qiu Feng.
And... and it felt somewhat familiar!
Back when that person had charged into the Earth Realm, they had tortured them in this exact same way!
This girl was that person's junior sister, so how could she be just as terrifying?
She shivered, and her neck suddenly tightened. Song Yao increased her grip slightly, a dagger appearing in her hand. She lightly dragged it across the demon's cheek and said with a trace of regret, “You're so beautiful, I really don't want to ruin your face. I'll count to three one last time.”
She spoke unhurriedly, “Three.”
“One.”
The dagger plunged into her flesh in an instant.
The faceless demon gasped in shock.
Didn't she say she would count to three?!
That was clearly only two counts!
In her panic, she cried out, “I'll talk! I'll talk! The love threads are stored within the medium! Whatever is used to control them is where the love threads reside! Just destroy the medium and dispel the spell!”
Song Yao stopped her hand. “How do we dispel the spell?”
The faceless demon hurriedly replied, “I don't know! I'm only responsible for extracting the love threads! Only the Immortal Venerable knows the method to dispel it!”
This didn't seem like a lie.
Even if she were lying, pushing her any further would likely yield nothing more.
She turned and took a few steps back.
Ning Zhou's expression tightened. Seeing the faceless demon lunging with her claws toward Song Yao's back, he shouted, “Watch out!”
The surrounding cultivators scrambled to stop her.
But it was clearly unnecessary.
Without even turning her head, Song Yao's Bishui Sword transformed into a flash of green light, pinning the faceless demon to the stone wall once again.
The tip of the sword pierced her throat. Her eyes bulged as she stared deathly at the retreating figure, squeezing out a muffled sound, “Song... Song... Song... Yao...”
The faint whisper dissipated before she could fully voice it. The faceless demon dissolved into a mist of blood, completely vanishing.
Rate on N.U.
