Chapter 179 - The Returnees and the First Seal
At first, no one realized Su Bai had disappeared.
The battlefield was too loud.
Every cultivator near the outer line had their attention locked on the enemy in front of them.
But Zhuge Jing noticed. His fan shifted slightly in his hand.
From his position near the center of command, he had been watching more than one part of the battlefield at once.
Su Bai’s position suddenly became empty. A dead leaf drifted down where he had once stood.
Zhuge Jing’s eyes narrowed.
He did not know what Su Bai intended to do, but he knew one thing clearly.
Su Bai had not moved without reason.
Almost immediately after that, the pressure from outside the boundary changed.
The red mist still pressed against Outpost No. 3, but the force behind it weakened.
It no longer surged into the damaged array scar as violently as before. The red veins crawling through the old formation line slowed. The barrier still flickered, yet it no longer thinned with every breath.
The miasma beasts changed too.
The forced growth in their bodies stopped worsening. Their joints no longer twisted with each pulse of outside power. The red-black force that had been feeding them seemed to recede, leaving behind bodies that were still dangerous, but no longer strengthening every moment.
Even the sludge formed from dead beasts became less obedient.
Zhuge Jing’s mind moved quickly.
His fan swept down.
"First ring, advance half a step. Do not give them room to gather momentum."
The shield cultivators pushed forward together.
"Second ring, cut tendons and joints. Third ring, rotate injured cultivators back. Formation cultivators, reinforce the damaged scar while the pressure is weak. Do not waste this opening."
The outpost moved.
The defense line, which had been bending under the earlier pressure, straightened again.
Qin Baoshan felt the change first. The beast crashing against his shield was still strong, but it no longer felt like something behind it was pushing with a second pair of hands.
He roared, stepped forward, and drove the shield rim into the monster’s jaw.
Bone cracked. The beast staggered.
Three sword cultivators behind him cut its forelimb joints at once.
The creature collapsed before it could force another step.
Han Yuelin appeared near a breach point and tapped his sword twice.
Two beasts fell, one after another.
Ji Ruyue’s frost swept past them and locked a beast’s legs to the ground.
The defense stabilized.
For the first time since the beasts began entering the safe zone, the cultivators of Outpost No. 3 felt that the battlefield could be held.
Just then, the human figures stopped for a breath.
Now that the pressure from the mist had lessened and the beasts no longer gained strength, those human silhouettes all turned their heads in the same direction.
Toward the place where Su Bai had vanished into the mist.
Lin Weiyang’s mechanisms trembled.
"They noticed Brother Su’s movement."
"Do not let them leave," Zhuge Jing said at once.
The human figures moved. They tried to retreat into the thickest part of the Ashen-Blood Miasma.
Zhuge Jing’s fan flashed toward Ji Ruyue.
"Sister Ji."
Ji Ruyue raised her hand.
The temperature dropped.
A wall of frost rose outside the weakened boundary, behind the line of human figures. It spread in a pale arc through the red haze, locking broken stones, ruined pillars, and miasma-soaked earth beneath layers of cold.
It was not enough to seal the entire battlefield, but it cut off the easiest path of retreat.
Tang Ziyan moved at nearly the same time. She cut her hand, then a thin purple mist drifted along the base of the ice wall.
It did not spread wildly. It lingered like a quiet warning, controlled so carefully that even the nearby cultivators could feel how much restraint Tang Ziyan was using.
Her poison was strong enough to threaten the Ashen-Blood Miasma itself in that narrow zone, but she did not let it flood the battlefield.
There was no cure for her poison if she truly released it. That was why it was frightening.
The human figures halted.
For the first time, their calm advance was interrupted.
They could no longer retreat easily.
Behind them, whatever support they had relied on was now farther away with Su Bai.
Zhuge Jing’s eyes sharpened.
"Hold them here."
The beasts attacked again, but their patterns had changed.
Earlier, they had moved with purpose. Now that guiding will had receded, the beasts became simpler.
They lunged at movement. They snapped at Qi. They chased spiritual fluctuations. The terrible coordination from before weakened, replaced by raw hunger and impulse.
The young cultivators noticed.
"They are slower!"
"Their joints are not changing anymore!"
"Do not relax! Simpler does not mean harmless!"
The defense pressed harder.
For a short while, it looked as if the outpost might push the entire beast wave back.
But the human figures finally entered the battle.
The first one moved like a sword cultivator.
It held a broken blade in one hand and stepped through the battlefield with footwork that was unmistakably human. Its blade cut toward a shield cultivator’s exposed wrist with cold precision. The shield cultivator drew back in shock.
A sword cultivator behind him moved to intercept.
The human figure’s free hand suddenly formed a seal. Miasma gathered into a twisted formation mark and burst outward.
The sword cultivator cursed and retreated.
"A sword user using formation seals?"
Before anyone could answer, another human figure raised both hands and released a spell shaped like black-red vines.
A third moved with body-refining footwork, then spat a miasma needle from its mouth.
A fourth swung a saber with the rhythm of a battlefield cultivator, only to follow it with a palm art that belonged to no saber lineage at all.
The outpost’s expressions changed.
They were not fighting normal cultivators.
They were fighting things that had stolen pieces from many cultivators and stitched those pieces together without caring whether they belonged in the same body.
Zhuge Jing saw it immediately.
His fan closed slightly.
"They are Soul-Bloom Returnees."
The words spread like cold water.
Several cultivators stiffened.
Zhuge Jing continued. "Treat every human figure as a Soul-Bloom Returnee. Do not kill them. Do not trigger a bloom. Restrain and seal."
The order changed the battle at once.
Killing a beast was simple. Restraining something that fought like several cultivators at once was not.
The Returnees seemed to understand that too.
One of them smiled. It was a crooked, cruel expression, too full of awareness to be accidental. Its blade swept toward a young cultivator’s neck, then stopped just short, forcing the cultivator beside him to strike back.
The bait was obvious.
If that retaliating strike landed too deeply, the Returnee might bloom.
"Do not answer its rhythm!" Zhuge Jing said sharply. "Break its steps."
Ji Ruyue’s frost spread across the ground and caught the Returnee’s ankle.
The Returnee twisted its leg at an impossible angle and nearly tore itself free.
Tang Ziyan’s purple mist arrived next.
It did not corrode the Returnee immediately. It seeped into the gaps around its joints, numbing movement without destroying the body. The Returnee’s smile widened, then stiffened as its fingers lost half a breath of speed.
Qin Baoshan stepped forward.
His shield slammed down, cutting off its escape path.
Lin Weiyang’s mechanisms descended from above. Hooked bronze arms snapped outward, catching robe, wrist, shoulder, and weapon. One mechanism was almost cut apart when the Returnee’s broken blade shifted angles with unnatural cleverness, but another immediately replaced it.
Tang Ziyan’s gaze moved toward the Tang Clan juniors.
"Threads."
The Tang Clan juniors responded instantly.
Black-purple threads shot from their sleeves.
They were thin, flexible, and frighteningly difficult to avoid. They did not rely on raw strength. They twisted around the Returnee’s wrists, elbows, knees, waist, and throat, each thread coated with a carefully measured numbing poison.
The Returnee tried to form another hand seal.
Han Yuelin’s sword tapped the back of its hand.
The fingers loosened. The Returnee snarled.
Its mouth opened, and several overlapping voices came out at once.
"Cowards."
"Little sect dogs."
"Seal us if you dare."
The voices were unpleasant, but they no longer carried the same command power as before. They were taunts, not orders.
That made them easier to ignore.
Mostly.
One young cultivator’s eyebrow twitched.
His senior brother grabbed his shoulder. "Do not argue with the thing made of stolen scraps."
The young cultivator inhaled deeply. "Right."
The Returnee laughed.
Tang Ziyan’s eyes cooled. The poison threads tightened.
Its laughter stopped.
"Move," Zhuge Jing ordered.
The binding group acted.
Several formation cultivators activated a guiding plate beneath the Returnee’s feet. Qin Baoshan pushed with his shield. The Tang Clan juniors pulled in different directions at once, destroying its balance step by step.
Lin Weiyang’s mechanisms opened the nearest star-metal shell. The shell stood near the inner line like a hollow coffin made of cold metal.
The Returnee seemed to realize what was happening. Its expression changed.
For the first time, the cruel amusement broke.
It struggled violently. The threads stretched. One snapped.
A Tang Clan junior coughed blood and staggered, but another immediately replaced the broken line. Tang Ziyan did not look away.
"Again."
More threads flew.
The Returnee’s shoulder twisted. Its arm nearly tore free.
Ji Ruyue’s frost crawled up from its ankle to its knee.
Han Yuelin’s sword tapped its elbow.
Qin Baoshan’s shield struck its chest without crushing the body.
The Returnee was forced backward.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Into the shell.
Lin Weiyang shouted, "Close!"
The star-metal shell snapped shut. A heavy sound rolled through the outpost. The sealing lines lit.
For one breath, the battlefield seemed to pause.
But then, the shell shook.
Boom.
Several cultivators flinched.
Boom.
A muffled curse echoed from inside, distorted by metal and formation lines.
"Open it!"
Boom.
"I will peel your names from your bones!"
Boom.
The shell shook again, but it did not open.
A strange silence spread across the nearby cultivators.
Still, the first sealing had succeeded.
A low cheer almost rose from the surrounding cultivators, but Zhuge Jing cut it off with a sweep of his fan.
"Do not celebrate. That is one."
Everyone remembered at once.
There were more.
The other Returnees had also seen the sealing.
Their expressions changed.
Some became colder. Some smiled wider. One tilted its head far enough that the neck should have snapped. Then all of them became more aggressive.
They no longer advanced slowly.
They rushed like cultivators who knew they had to prevent a method from being used twice.
The battle intensified.
Star-metal shells became both hope and pressure. The defenders now knew sealing could work, but they also knew it was difficult. One mistake could trigger a bloom. One deep wound could turn victory into disaster. One missed restraint could let a Returnee break through the inner line and reach the injured.
Zhuge Jing commanded without pause.
"Do not isolate them too far from the shells. Binding groups, rotate. Shield cultivators, do not strike above the heart. Formation cultivators, reinforce shell lines after each sealing attempt."
Lin Weiyang had already rushed to the first shell.
Her fingers moved quickly over the lit sealing marks. Several mechanisms hovered beside her, projecting thin formation diagrams over the star-metal surface.
Her expression was not relaxed.
"The shell is holding," she said, "but not perfectly."
Zhuge Jing’s gaze shifted toward her.
Lin Weiyang continued, "The original shells were meant to work with star-metal chains, fixed ground formations, and deeper sealing anchors. We only have the emptied shells. They can contain it for now, but not suppress it completely."
The nearby cultivators’ faces changed.
"How long can it hold?" one asked.
Lin Weiyang’s expression became complicated.
"That depends on how angry it is."
Boom.
The shell shook again.
Lin Weiyang looked at it.
"It is very angry."
No one laughed this time.
Zhuge Jing’s fan stilled for half a breath, then he said, "Then temporary is enough. Hold them until Brother Su returns."
The cultivators near the shell swallowed.
Until Brother Su returns.
Those words spread quietly through the inner line.
No one knew where Su Bai had gone, but the pressure from outside had weakened after he vanished.
That meant he was doing something.
And if Su Bai was doing something, then their task was simple.
Hold. Seal what they could. Survive what they could not seal. Do not let the outpost fall before he came back.