Chapter 97: Martial Virtue (I)
Within the valley.
The column of violet-black light slowly receded, revealing the figure of Qian Renxue within.
She remained standing, yet the aura surrounding her had undergone a complete transformation.
Her long, brilliant golden hair stirred without a breeze, rapidly shifting in color to a silvery-white.
The ethereal projection of the six-winged angel—once the very embodiment of sanctity—now saw its wings stained entirely a dark violet, while violet-black flames burned fiercely within its eyes.
She slowly raised her head to look at the withered old man, the corners of her lips curling into a cold, eerie arc.
"Just now..." Her voice carried a strange resonance, as if two people were speaking in unison. "...Was it you who sought to kill me?"
Alarm bells rang wildly in the withered old man’s mind; instinctively, he took a step back.
"You... What are you?!"
"Me?"
Qian Renxue—or rather, the dark entity that had seized control of her body—let out a soft chuckle and raised her right hand.
Hovering above her palm, a ball of violet-black flame burned silently; deep within the fire, countless wailing faces could be faintly seen struggling in agony.
"I have come..."
Her gaze turned razor-sharp, and the violet-black flames erupted with explosive force!
"...To send you all to hell!"
Before her words had even faded, her figure vanished from where she stood.
The very next second, she reappeared behind one of the Soul Saints, her dark-violet Angelic Sword slicing through the air with a gentle stroke.
The Soul Saint froze mid-motion.
He lowered his gaze to his chest, where a thin black line had suddenly appeared. Instantly, the black line spread outward; his body rapidly blackened and disintegrated—as if being consumed by ink—until nothing remained but drifting ash.
A Soul Saint—slain in a single strike!
A deathly silence fell over the entire scene.
The dark Qian Renxue gave her sword a light flick—as if brushing away non-existent ash—then turned to face the three remaining Soul Saints, her smile as radiantly alluring as a poppy.
"Who wants to be next?"
Her voice echoed beneath the blood-red moonlight, carrying with it a strange, bewitching allure.
The three Soul Saints instinctively took a half-step back, their eyes flashing with terror.
The dark, malevolent aura radiating from this suddenly transformed angel was—astonishingly—even purer and more terrifying than that of them, the Fallen!
Upon seeing this, the withered old man’s gaunt face twisted in rage as he barked a sharp command: "No retreating! Charge!"
He slammed the bone staff in his hand heavily against the ground; the eye sockets of the skull atop the staff erupted with a blinding crimson glow.
The red light rippled outward, enveloping every single one of the Fallen.
The bodies of the black-robed figures shuddered in unison; the fear in their eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a vacant numbness and sheer madness.
The crimson patterns etched upon their faces seemed to come alive, writhing beneath their skin and radiating an even denser aura of malevolence.
"Roar—!"
The Fallen let out roars that were utterly inhuman—like beasts stripped of their sanity—as they surged toward the Dark Qian Renxue in wave after wave, heedless of their own lives.
"Heh heh heh..."
Qian Renxue—or rather, the Dark Qian Renxue currently in control of the body—let out a string of scornful laughter.
She spread her arms wide, and behind her, the colossal apparition of a black angel fully materialized beneath the blood-red moon.
It was a six-winged angel—an entity of breathtaking, yet utterly sinister, beauty.
Its once-sacred golden wings had turned pitch-black; every single feather seemed woven from the deepest shades of night, shimmering with a dark violet luminescence.
The angel’s face remained exquisitely beautiful, yet it now exuded a deadly allure and seduction; dark violet markings traced the corners of its eyes, and its lips glowed a vivid crimson, as if stained with fresh blood.
She hovered in mid-air, her six black wings beating slowly, scattering a shower of shimmering dark violet dust.
Every person present—including the members of the Holy Knights—found their gaze irresistibly drawn to this bewitching black angel, their minds falling into a momentary trance.
"Is that... an angel?"
Tian Yue murmured, her eyes wide with utter disbelief.
"Captain... what is... this?" one of her teammates asked, their voice trembling.
The Dark Qian Renxue raised the Black Angel’s Sword high; beneath the blood-red moon, her silver hair stirred and billowed as if caught in a gale, though the air remained still. She looked down upon the charging Fallen, her voice cold and commanding.
"When it comes to darkness and evil... I am the true sovereign!"
As her words faded, the six wings of the black angel apparition flared in unison!
An invisible wave of dark, oppressive power surged outward like a tidal wave.
The dozen or so Fallen Ones charging at the very front recoiled as if struck by a massive blow; their movements froze abruptly, and expressions of agonizing struggle appeared on their faces.
The evil energy coursing through their bodies had suddenly begun to flow in reverse—spiraling out of control!
Thud!
A Soul King-level Fallen One was the first to collapse to his knees, clutching his head with both hands as he let out a piercing, wretched scream.
Then came the second, and the third...
Like stalks of wheat being harvested, the Fallen Ones on the front lines fell to their knees in droves, their bodies writhing violently as black blood oozed from every orifice.
The old man bringing up the rear was frantic; brandishing his bone staff, he frantically channeled his dark sorcery: "Insolence! I am your true master! Attack! Tear this angel to shreds!"
The crimson glow in the Fallen Ones’ eyes flickered violently as they struggled desperately between the old man’s manipulation and the crushing pressure of the darkness.
Seconds later, the dark sorcery barely managed to suppress their terror. They rose to their feet once more—their eyes burning blood-red—and lunged toward Dark Qian Renxue with even greater, more frenzied speed.
"Heh." A curve of disdain touched the corners of Dark Qian Renxue’s lips as she gave the Black Angel’s Sword a gentle flick.
There were no flashy Soul Skills, no deafening roars.
Wherever the blade passed, the very fabric of space seemed to be sliced open, revealing a network of fine, black fissures.
The five Fallen Ones charging at the very front froze mid-stride; the next instant, their bodies slid apart along the clean, precise cuts.
No blood spurted from the severed edges—only a silent, smoldering violet-black flame that swiftly consumed their mangled remains.
It was as effortless as slicing through melons and vegetables.
Dark Qian Renxue’s figure flickered through the crowd; with every reappearance, she left a trailing plume of violet-black sword-light in her wake.
Her movements were as graceful as a dance, yet as lethal as a viper.
The Fallen Ones fell in droves, their bodies turning to ash within the violet-black flames.
"Damn it! Damn it all!" Watching his subordinates being decimated so rapidly, a look of sheer terror finally surfaced on the withered old man’s gaunt face.
"I went to such lengths to gather so many high-quality slaves... I can’t let this go on any longer!"
Yet, he now found himself in an impossible bind—caught between a rock and a hard place.
If he were to lift his domain and enter the fray personally, the other members of the Holy Knight Order would regain their combat strength and swarm the enemy.
Yet, if he continued to maintain the domain, his subordinates would surely be slaughtered by that eerie Black Angel!
Just as the old man hesitated, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end!
Years of honed combat instinct compelled him to dive sideways, casting all concern for his dignity aside.
Almost simultaneously, a searing, fiery-red streak of sword-light grazed his scalp—severing several wisps of his withered hair—before slamming violently into the very spot where he had stood moments before!
"BOOM—!"
The ground erupted into a charred, gaping crater; the rocks within melted and smoldered, emitting wisps of acrid smoke.
The old man scrambled back to his feet in a disheveled state; during his evasive maneuver, the Scripture of the Holy Spirit he held had slipped from his grasp and landed on the ground.
Filled with a mixture of shock and fury, he glared toward the source of the attack.
"Who goes there? Such utter lack of martial virtue—how dare you launch a sneak attack!"
Bathed in moonlight, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the forest.
It was a youth who appeared to be no older than fourteen or fifteen, clad in simple, practical battle attire. His right hand had transformed into a grotesque dragon claw covered in crimson scales, and clutched within it was a burning longsword.
The blade itself was entirely crimson, its surface flickering with patterns of golden-red flame.
Trailing behind the youth was a blonde-haired girl, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring fiercely.
"I don’t recall ever being obligated to show ’martial virtue’ toward a Fallen One," Jiang Bai stated calmly, his voice ringing clearly through the silent valley.
Jiang Li’er chimed in with a crisp voice of her own: "You Fallen One, you’ve got some nerve! Daring to come out in the dead of night just to prey on innocent people!"