Chapter 119: The Old Generation Takes Action

The blood rain fell in relentless sheets, painting the world in hues of crimson and shadow. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of fear. The Obsidian Waterfall Gate loomed like a monolith against the storm-darkened sky, its ancient runes flickering faintly as if struggling to hold back the tide of chaos that approached. The elders and cultivators gathered outside the gate stood in tense silence, their eyes fixed on the treeline where the first signs of movement appeared.

The Twilight Fangs emerged first, their sleek forms cutting through the underbrush like shadows given life. Their crimson eyes glowed with a feral hunger, and their howls reverberated through the air, a chilling symphony of rage and madness. The pack moved as one, a wave of black fur and razor-sharp fangs, their claws tearing into the earth as they surged forward. The ground trembled beneath their weight, and the forest seemed to recoil in their wake.

Elder Gao Yundian stepped forward, his weathered face set in a grim mask. He raised a hand, and the air around him crackled with energy. "Hold them off!" he barked, his voice cutting through the tension like a whip. "Do not let them breach the gate!"

Elder Gao Yundian shot into the Sky like a storm given form, arcs of lightning dancing across his body in wild, erratic bursts. His piercing eyes blazed with an unrelenting ferocity, a dangerous mixture of fatherly devotion and righteous indignation. Below him, the ground trembled beneath his sheer presence, and the air grew thick with a static charge that set even the most seasoned cultivators on edge.

His son, Gao Zhenlei, was inside the Obsidian Waterfall Gate—a place veiled in danger and mystery. Gao Yundian's resolve burned like the lightning coiling around him. No force, mortal or divine, would breach that gate as long as he lived.

Yet how twisted, how shattered would his proud and defiant visage become if the truth reached him? That his beloved son, the heir he had poured countless years and resources into cultivating, had already fallen? Not only had Gao Zhenlei been slain—his life snuffed out by enigmatic Jiang Feng of Northern Moon City—and his very soul had been devoured by the Gate of Darkness itself.

The weight of such a revelation would not merely shake Elder Gao's foundation—it would obliterate it. The wrath of a father scorned might yet pale in comparison to the despair and madness that would follow.

The cultivators responded instantly, their movements fluid. Swords were drawn, their blades gleaming even in the dim light, and spiritual energy flared as they prepared to meet the oncoming horde. The Twilight Fangs were fast, but the cultivators were faster. The first wave of beasts crashed against the defensive line, and the clash was brutal.

Zhen Chen moved like a shadow, his blade a blur of silver as he cut through the Twilight Fangs with deadly easy, his Nascent Soul causing the air to vibrate all around him. His movements were calm, almost detached, but his eyes burned with a fierce light. He knew what was at stake, and he would not falter either. Beside him, Lin Moyi fought with a calculated efficiency, his strikes were like a gale wind, a crushing current that rushed to and from. His sharp instincts guided him, allowing him to anticipate the beasts' movements and counter them with ease.

The Twilight Fangs were all at the seventh and eighth stages of the Golden Core Realm, beasts like these could level an entire city that didn't have its own Nascent Soul realm cultivator to protect it.

The Twilight Fangs were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless. But the cultivators held their ground, their combined strength forming an impenetrable wall. The air was filled with the sounds of battle—the clash of steel against claw, the snarls of the beasts, and the cries of the cultivators as they fought with everything they had.

The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, mingling with the relentless downpour that painted the battlefield in shades of crimson. Lin Moyi's voice cut through the chaos, low and bitter, as his staff arced through the air, smashing through flesh and bone with practiced ease. "This level of hate is too much," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His words were swallowed by the cacophony of clashing steel and anguished cries, but the weight of them lingered in the storm-soaked air.

Zhen Chen approached, his boots squelching in the muddied earth, his sword dripping with the lifeblood of Twilight Fangs. He tilted his head upward, letting the blood rain streak his face as he spoke, his tone grim yet resigned. "And this blood rain doesn't seem as if it'll be stopping anytime soon." His eyes scanned the battlefield, a graveyard of killed demonic beasts. The rain, unrelenting and unnatural, seemed to mirror the despair that clung to the land.

The disparity in power among the factions was stark, a reflection of the harsh realities of cultivation in the lower realm. Nascent Soul cultivators were as rare as phoenix feathers, their presence a testament to both talent and fortune. Most of the Powers and Families here were led by late-stage Golden Core cultivators, their leaders formidable but bound by the limitations of their realm. The Fan and Bia Clans were prime examples, their family heads standing at the peak of the Golden Core realm, yet unable to breach the elusive Nascent Soul stage. The Azure Spirit Hall, Crimson Sky Pavilion, and Ironwood Sect were no different, their leaders hovering at the late ninth stage of the Golden Core realm, their power immense but finite.

Only the Zhen, Lei, and Ji Families boasted Nascent Soul cultivators, their presence a mark of prestige and dominance. Lin Moyi, with his recent ascension, had joined their ranks as the fourth, a feat that had sent ripples through the cultivation world. But even for him, the path to Nascent Soul had been fraught with trials, a journey that had demanded more than just resources or talent. It required a convergence of fate, will, and opportunity—a combination few could achieve.

The lower realm's spiritual energy was sparse, a trickle compared to the torrents found in higher realms. This scarcity made cultivation a grueling endeavor, with breakthroughs in the Golden Core realm often taking centuries. Many cultivators spent their entire lives trapped in the seventh stage, their potential forever unfulfilled. To most, reaching the seventh stage was the pinnacle of power, a mark of status and influence that granted the right to establish sects or vie for a place among the elite families of any city. In some generations, the Nascent Soul realm remained an unattainable dream, its experts absent from the annals of history.

Lin Moyi's gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the fighting. The rain blurred the lines between man and beast, washing away the distinctions of clan and sect. He tightened his grip on his staff, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him as he thought about what would happen once Jiang Feng came out.

"Only such strong potential is worth protecting. Reverse Cultivation haha how wonderfully chaotic" Lin Moyi finally shook his head with a laugh.

The hate that fueled this conflict was palpable, a living thing that fed on the desperation and ambition of those who went against the heavens. And yet, amidst the carnage, he couldn't help but wonder if there was another way—a path that didn't require rivers of blood and endless cycles of vengeance.

Zhen Chen stepped closer, his presence a steadying force amidst the chaos. "Do you think it'll ever end?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the storm. His eyes, usually sharp, held a flicker of something softer—doubt, perhaps, or weariness.

Lin Moyi didn't answer immediately. "It has to," Lin Moyi finally said, his voice heavy with resolve.

The two men stood side by side, their silhouettes stark against the blood-red horizon. The rain continued to fall, unyielding and eternal, as the battle raged on around them. In that moment, they were more than just cultivators—they were symbols of a world teetering on the edge of destruction, searching for a way to tip the scales toward hope against the heavens.

High above, the Crimson Skywing let out a piercing screech, its massive wings casting a shadow over the battlefield. The demonic beast dove toward the gate, its talons extended and ready to strike. Elder Lie Huoyan of Mist Ridge City stepped forward, his hands glowing with a blue light of twisting energy. "Leave this one to me," he said, his voice calm but laced with killing intent. With a swift motion, he unleashed a torrent of water slashes toward the Crimson Skywing, the slashes roaring through the air like a dragon unleashed.

The Crimson Skywing screeched in defiance, its wings beating furiously as it evaded the blades of raging water. But Elder Lie Huoyan was relentless in his actions, his attacks precise and unyielding. The battle between man and beast was a spectacle of power and skill, each move calculated and deadly. The Crimson Skywing's talons raked through the air, narrowly missing Elder Lie Huoyan as he countered with a blast that singed the beast's feathers. The smell of torn flesh filled the air, mingling with the metallic scent of blood.

Gao Yundian and Lei Huoyan were both Nascent Soul Realm cultivators and were top backers of Thunderclap and Mists Ridge Cities.

Meanwhile, the ground shook as the Ironclad Colossus emerged from the forest, its massive form towering over the battlefield. The demonic beast's metallic plates gleamed in the dim light, and its eyes burned with a mindless rage. Each step it took sent tremors through the earth, and its roar was a deafening challenge to all who stood in its path.

Elder Gao Yundian turned to face the Ironclad Colossus, his expression grim but resolute. "We cannot let it reach the gate," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "Focus your attacks on its joints. That is its weakness."

The cultivators nodded, their movements coordinated as they launched a barrage of attacks toward the Ironclad Colossus. Swords, spears, and spiritual energy struck the beast's joints, the sound of metal against metal ringing out across the battlefield. The Ironclad Colossus roared in pain, its massive fists swinging wildly as it tried to crush its attackers. But the cultivators were too quick, their movements too well practiced. Slowly but surely, they began to wear the beast down.

One had to remember these were all leaders of their respective cities and generations, they were by no means weak. In the distance, the Venomous Serpent Queen slithered through the swamp, her massive coils cutting through the water with ease. Her emerald-green scales shimmered in the dim light, and her eyes burned with a mindless fury. The air around her was thick with the scent of poison, and the ground sizzled where her venom dripped.

Zhen Chen and Lin Moyi exchanged a glance, their expressions grim. "We need to stop that thing before it reaches the gate," Zhen Chen said, his voice low but urgent. Lin Moyi nodded, his sharp instincts already assessing the situation. "Her venom is deadly. We cannot afford to let her get too close, it's already that the great circle of the Golden Core Stage, we have to be careful with this one and that colossus too."

The two cultivators moved as one, their movements swift and coordinated. They approached the Venomous Serpent Queen with caution, their weapons at the ready.

"Hey old man, the mourning of the heavens isn't a good thing for either of us if it's really related to Jiang Feng. Are you truly prepared for the repercussion of his actions?" Zhen Chen asked one final time, it had already been half a month since and they only had half a month remaining.

"I'm ready old friend. Thank you for standing by me for so long. I Lin Moyi will not forget these favors!" Lin Moyi firmly nodded before saying.

"I'll stand with you always old friend, no need to thanks we are brothers in life and in death. Just like the good old days" Zhen Chen smiled.

The demonic beast hissed, her massive coils coiling as she prepared to strike. Zhen Chen moved first, his blade slicing through the air as he aimed for the beast's eyes. The Venomous Serpent Queen recoiled, her massive body twisting as she tried to evade the attack. But Lin Moyi was already in position, his strikes precise and deliberate as he targeted the beast's vulnerable spots.

They didn't used their full strength, summoning their Nascent Souls could cause major damage to the environment and worse maybe affect the Obsidian Waterfall Gate.

The battle was fierce, each move a deadly dance of skill and strategy. The Venomous Serpent Queen's venom dripped from her fangs, sizzling as it hit the ground. But Zhen Chen and Lin Moyi were relentless, their combined strength and skill slowly wearing the beast down. With a final, coordinated strike, they managed to pierce the Venomous Serpent Queen's scales, their blade and staff sinking deep into her flesh. The demonic beast let out a final, agonized hiss before collapsing, her massive body sinking into the swamp.