“Demons masquerading as immortals.” Dustin’s declaration landed like a thunderclap in the opulent yet eerie halls of Elysium Immortal Palace.
The moment those words fell, the temperature in the entire hall seemed to plummet to freezing. Even the spiritual energy rising from the wine pool solidified for an instant.
The men and women indulging in pleasures fell silent as if an invisible hand had clamped their throats. They shrank back in terror, not daring to breathe too loudly
Lysander’s fingers froze on the strings of his lap harp, while Valindra’s seductive smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold disdain
Even Malthor, who had been languid and indifferent, finally showed a flicker of distinct anger in his deep-set eyes. The struggles of mere ants might amuse him, but their scorn and defiance were an affront to his authority.
“Insolent fools!” Talmor snapped first, throwing his wine glass to the ground. It shattered instantly, sending wine splashing everywhere
He sprang to his feet, his robe whipping around him with the force of his sudden movement. The cynical, world-weary smirk on his face disappeared, replaced by a dark, menacing scowl.
“How dare a mere mortal swordsman, who stumbled upon some opportunities, slander the sacred grounds of the immortals. Today, I’ll let you witness the actual immortal technique.”
He was clearly infuriated by Dustin’s earlier accusations that their place was a breeding ground for evil, where demons steal dragon power.
After all, Dustin had accurately exposed their reliance on the Void-Tyrant Dragon’s power. This was tantamount to exposing the ugly truth beneath their glamorous facade.
Malthor didn’t intervene. He leaned back in his recliner and watched coldly, silently granting Talmor permission to act.
Lysander and Valindra observed with detached interest. They also wanted to see how long Dustin could last under Talmor’s full-force attack. After all, he had consecutively broken through several barriers and defeated Malthor’s Dragonblood Battle Puppets.
Talmor swiftly formed hand seals. As he chanted, a thick, cyan light swirled around him. It was saturated with a twisted, paradoxical energy of vitality and decay.
Though he cultivated wood-element arts, prolonged exposure to the dragon blood malevolent energy had caused him to stray far from the righteous path into something sinister and unnatural.
“Spirits of the forest, heed my command and kill this fiend!” he uttered, gesturing with his hand seal toward the spiritually luminous exotic spiritual flowers, rare plants, and spirit trees that decorated one side of the hall.
Those once serene plants erupted with savage intent, as though gripped by madness itself. Vines burst forth with explosive force like venomous serpents, their sharp wooden thorns gleaming as they whipped toward Dustin.
The spirit trees’ branches twisted into countless lethal spears, raining down in a relentless barrage, while a faint scent of rot spread through the air, leeching at his life essence.
Though Dustin’s strength hadn’t fully recovered, his eyes remained razor-sharp as he raised his sword with a flourish.
Rather than unleashing wide, sweeping sword techniques, his figure moved like the wind, weaving through the storm of vines and spears.
Each strike landed with surgical precision, hitting the core of a vine or the weak point of a spear. Streams of cyan sword aura flared across the hall as the raging vines split apart, and the wooden spears were shredded into splinters.
His sword moved with speed, precision, and ruthless intent. Every strike carried a purifying intent, slicing through lies and delusions. Even Talmor’s seemingly unstoppable wood-element arts were countered with effortless precision.
Talmor snorted and said, “Not bad. Let’s see how you handle this.”
Seeing Dustin survive his first attempt, Talmor scowled. With a swift change in hand seals, the cyan glow around him flared violently, faintly tinged by a wisp of corrupt, black energy.
“Wood-Element Transmutation. Spirits of the Shadow Wood, heed my call.”
He slammed his palm onto the floor. From the cracks between the white tiles, countless twisted, translucent black shadows shrieked as they emerged.
These were Wood-Element Spirits. They were formed from the plant spirits tainted by dragon blood malevolent energy that couldn’t be reborn, mixed with the lingering souls of fallen cultivators who had perished there.
Though formless, their attacks targeted the enemy’s very soul. Their piercing wails and ethereal claws washed over Dustin like a tide, dimming the light in the hall as they advanced.
Talmor flicked his sleeve, releasing three dark projectiles marked with glowing talismans.
When they struck the floor, they transformed into three Wight-Gilders clad in ancient court regalia. Matted black hair hung over their mottled blue-black skin, and their fingernails had twisted into long, sharp claws the color of bruised flesh.
These undead had been corrupted by dragon blood malevolent energy. Their presence radiated a suffocating, deathly energy wave. They moved like shadows, impossibly fast and impossibly strong
Along with the invisible Wood Spirits, they launched a coordinated assault on both physical and spiritual levels.
“Watch out! It’s the soul-stealing shrieks and Wight-Gilders,” Grace reminded him.
While watching from the side with her heart in her throat, she hastily circulated her internal energy to protect herself from the wood spirit’s screams.
Even when facing a dual assault on both body and soul, Dustin’s expression remained unchanged. His left hand formed a sword finger and tapped his brow.
A clear ripple of divine sense spread outward like water flowing over stone, instantly neutralizing most of the wood spirits’ piercing shrieks. At the same time, his right hand guided the long sword in a perfect, circular arc.
“Mystical Purity Exorcism. Let the thunder’s sound pacify the souls!” he chanted.
Faint arcs of violet lightning crackled along the blade. With its movement came a low, yet profoundly authoritative, thunderous tone. It wasn’t a physical sound but was the manifestation of the sword aura striking directly at the soul.
The charging wood-element spirits were struck by the sword aura’s thunderous resonance. Like ice shattering under the blazing sun, they let out piercing screams and collapsed almost instantly. The few that remained were reduced to faint, translucent forms and could no longer pose any threat.
