Threefold Divine Wind Fan

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Pang Yue pressed on, delving through nine consecutive Buddha grottoes until he finally reached the end.

Inside the ninth grotto, a vast river of dark brown swept majestically through the heart of the cavern. On one side of the river, lush vegetation flourished, resembling a tropical rainforest. Across the river, an abyss of utter blackness yawned, profound and unfathomable.

Standing before the river, Pang Yue focused his gaze and discovered that the mighty current was composed entirely of countless fragments of space and chaotic flows of the void! The river seemed both real and illusory, near and yet impossibly distant. Standing on its “bank,” one felt an acute sense of spatial disorientation.

The river divided the entire grotto into two worlds. Beyond the surface of the water hung a realm of primordial chaos and darkness, as if it were the boundary of the secret wilderness itself.

A sudden suspicion rose in Pang Yue’s mind: could this be the very edge of the ancient secret realm?

“What a pity I still have duties to the sect. Otherwise…”

He gazed at the great river with a wistful sigh. The spiritual energy here was abundant beyond measure. He had already harvested several hundred Ice Soul Snow Lotuses, one of which was of the sacred grade—if used wisely, it could rival a century of arduous cultivation!

“I’d better regroup with the others first!”

With a flicker, Pang Yue stepped onto the Bridge of Passing and sped away in the direction from which he had come.

...

Hong Ren, Meng Zitiao, and their companions entered another grotto. Aside from finding a few rare flowers and herbs, they gained nothing of note. Following the winding tunnels ever deeper, they soon arrived at the third Buddha grotto.

There, nine cultivators of the Celestial Sea Sect were busily raising a scroll of formation, sealing off the entire entrance of the cavern. Their bodies shimmered with spiritual light, weaving together with the formation diagram until the two became one. A shimmering curtain of water, like a surging tide, blocked the passage.

“Celestial Sea Sect cultivators?”

Hong Ren swept his gaze over them and wasted no words. He immediately brandished the Samadhi Divine Wind Fan, sending a powerful gust toward the nine.

The feather fan swelled in the wind, expanding to several meters in size, and unleashed a black tornado that roared straight ahead!

“Not good—he’s an elite from the Demon Sigil Sect!”

“A first-tier magic treasure—activate the formation at full power!”

The nine responded instantly, channeling their power into the array. The sound of crashing waves thundered as a dazzling wall of aqua light surged upward.

This formation was known as the Supreme Profound Radiance Array. Its radiance burst forth with overwhelming might, awe-inspiring in its grandeur! Within the watery curtain, countless streams and currents flowed, crystalline and radiant. The pressure emanating from the array far surpassed that of even the most advanced Foundation Establishment cultivators.

The waterlight and the black tornado collided violently in the air, unleashing a deafening explosion. Water and black wind raged together, and in an instant, the vegetation and Buddha statues within the grotto were annihilated, dust and debris flying everywhere.

Hong Ren laughed heartily, wielding the Samadhi Divine Wind Fan with abandon. Three more black tornadoes erupted forth, tearing into the waterlight.

A shattering, earth-rending force burst forth, ripping the watery barrier to pieces.

Alarmed, the Celestial Sea Sect cultivators hurried to reinforce their formation. The watery shield swelled again, barely managing to withstand the onslaught of the Samadhi Divine Wind.

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“Demon Sigil Sect cultivators, do not be so arrogant! My senior brother, Yan Qichang the Ocean-Subduing Hand, is nearby! You’d best retreat at once!”

The Celestial Sea Sect cultivators shouted fiercely, though their bravado was laced with fear.

Hong Ren burst out laughing. “The Ocean-Subduing Hand? Good! Thirty years ago, I lost to him by half a move. Today, I shall reclaim my honor—and then some!”

With a flicker, he transformed into a wisp of clear wind, gliding straight into the Supreme Profound Radiance Array.

In his hands, the Samadhi Divine Wind Fan unleashed a fearsome power that made Meng Zitiao’s jaw drop. Nine black tornadoes, each as thick as a fist, swept out, piercing the watery barrier with ease and boring into the bodies of the nine cultivators.

“Aaah!”

A chorus of anguished screams echoed as the nine endured a torment more cruel than any suffering on earth. Flesh and blood peeled away from their bones, disintegrating into ashes in a matter of moments.

In the end, only nine gleaming white skeletons remained.

Hong Ren, holding the Samadhi Divine Wind Fan, stood among the bones with an air of ease and elegance.

“Brother Hong, you’re magnificent!”

Meng Zitiao and the others hurried forward to congratulate him.

Hong Ren gazed longingly at the feather fan in his hand, praising, “The treasure Elder Meng forged is truly extraordinary. I wonder when I’ll finally have a treasure of my own.”

Meng Zitiao smiled, “With this expedition into the Ancient Nine Nether Demon Sect, Brother Hong is certain to reap great rewards.”

“The Nine Nether Demon Sect… ah, best not to mention it. That opportunity was left by the sect for Ye Xue. We’re just…” He trailed off with a wry chuckle, shaking his head, his spirits suddenly waning.

...

Seventh Buddha grotto.

A band of radiant light stretched across the sky, blocking Pang Yue’s path.

Within the glow, a figure stared at Pang Yue with murderous intent so tangible it seemed to fill the air.

His gaze fell upon the blood-red halo behind Pang Yue.

Within that aura, a slender woman’s form drifted in a daze, trapped in the bloodlight, unable to find peace even in death.

She had once been his most beloved junior sister...

In Yan Qichang’s mind, scenes from just days before resurfaced: their tender affection, their moments of passion—memories now forever lost.

Though he’d had fleeting romances with many female cultivators over the years, this junior sister was the one who truly held his heart.

But fate had played a cruel joke.

He had watched helplessly as she was burned alive by pure lunar fire that sprang from a snow lotus, powerless to save her.

Her smile as she turned back while picking the snow lotus had become the most painful memory of his life.

And the man before him was the one responsible for it all!

Nothing needed to be asked or said. The blood-shadow halo on his back revealed everything.

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“You… deserve a thousand deaths!”

His voice boomed like thunder through the cavern, its echoes reverberating endlessly.

Pang Yue replied coolly, “One must not be shackled by emotion, nor deceived by the heart, nor ensnared by material things—only then can one seek the true Way. You are ensnared by appearances, my friend.”

“Die!”

Yan Qichang threw his head back and roared, striking out with his palm. Waterlight as vast as the Milky Way crashed down upon Pang Yue.

This strike, fueled by grief and rage, was devastating—rivalling the might of Zhou Wuchou of the True Yang Sect. The Ocean-Subduing Hand had earned his fame with just such blows.

As the palm descended, Pang Yue immediately realized that even the Bridge of Passing would not withstand its force. Even if he fled into the void, the overwhelming power would force him out.

He took a deep breath and thrust out his own palm.

A massive handprint of flame blazed into existence.

Boom!

Water and fire met with an earth-shattering explosion. The tidal wave engulfed the flaming handprint, extinguishing it. Yet the cold, ghostly fire also burned away much of the waterlight.

Yan Qichang, surrounded by flowing radiance, frantically absorbed the dense spiritual energy of the cavern, endlessly converting it into pure, boundless power.

Fury blazing, he unleashed dozens of palms in succession.

Countless handprints, woven through the torrents of water, crashed down with overwhelming force, leaving Pang Yue with hardly any room to maneuver.

Pang Yue’s expression remained calm. Again, he thrust out his palm.

Demon Flame Great Handprint.

This time, the handprint shifted seven times in an instant, flicking its fingers and hammering explosive demonic force into the waterlight.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

With each flick, the handprint struck precisely at the weakest nodes in Yan Qichang’s circulating power.

It was a display of divine mastery—truly miraculous!

Nor was it over yet. The Demon Flame Great Handprint tore through the sea of handprints, then curled its fingers into a blade of force as sharp as a knife, slashing straight for Yan Qichang’s face.

Yan Qichang’s brow twitched involuntarily. Radiance whirled around him as he twisted aside, barely dodging the lethal edge, then countered with a palm to shatter the attack.

The Demon Flame Great Handprint, derived from the Heavenly Demon Great Handprint, contained infinite transformations. Its power was no less than that of the Flame Sigil Sword Canon.

Yan Qichang’s expression was icy, his power shifting unpredictably as he prepared to unleash another thunderous assault upon Pang Yue.

Just then, a clear, resonant voice sounded from behind the two combatants.