The Demon Lord of All Forms

Chapter 39 Arrogance

Zhou Huaijin's expression stiffened slightly, then he resumed his smile.

"I won't let you down, junior brother."

With a flick of his hand, Zhou Huaijin unleashed the Hundred Ghosts Banner, and a continuous stream of fierce ghosts flew out of the banner and poured into his body.

Zhou Huaijin's aura began to expand, his skin turned as pale as paper, his pupils flickered with eerie green flames, his body was filled with a ghostly aura, a thin layer of frost condensed on the obsidian ground beneath his feet, his ten fingers were bent like hooks, his nails grew out of shape, and gleamed with a cold, eerie light.

With a swift movement, Zhou Huaijin appeared in front of Yun Weiyang in an instant, his speed astonishing. His ghostly claws tore through the air, emitting a sharp sonic boom, and aimed straight for Yun Weiyang's throat.

Yun Weiyang turned her body to avoid the claw, and drew her Flying Immortal Sword. The sword light was like a bolt of lightning, and she stabbed straight at Zhou Huaijin's heart.

Zhou Huaijin smiled disdainfully, his left hand, with its ghostly claw, reached out and closed his five fingers, actually grasping the blade of the Flying Immortal Sword in his hand.

The sword light collided with the ghostly energy, producing a piercing friction sound, but the blade could not advance an inch, nor could it harm Zhou Huaijin in the slightest.

"Junior Brother Yun, your sword is too dull." Zhou Huaijin's smile carried a hint of sarcasm.

Yun Weiyang didn't speak, but looked at Zhou Huaijin and chuckled softly. Suddenly, the Flying Immortal Sword trembled.

Tear!

A thin, blood-red sword light shot out from the blade, too fast for the naked eye to catch. Zhou Huaijin screamed as all five fingers of his left hand were severed at the root. The severed fingers fell to the ground, still twitching slightly, and blood gushed from the wounds, staining his white robe red.

On the high platform, Zuo Shulong's eyes narrowed sharply.

"This is..." Shen Longlin's playful smile vanished as he stared at the fleeting crimson sword light on the training ground: "Li Yatou's sword light?"

Li Qinghe remained expressionless, but her eyes gleamed with a blood-red sword light.

Yan Qihui's smile remained unchanged, but the curve of his lips became more and more pronounced.

Yin Xuanling gripped the dragon seal, which was now split in two, his fingers tightening slightly as he stared at the Flying Immortal Sword in Yun Weiyang's hand, his face grim.

Zhou Huaijin clutched his severed hand and retreated rapidly, distancing himself from Yun Weiyang. The smile on his face finally vanished, replaced by gloom and apprehension.

Yun Weiyang did not pursue, but stood still, her Flying Immortal Sword pointing diagonally at the ground, the blood-red light on the blade already dissipated.

"It seems your strength is just like this." Yun Weiyang shook her head: "Is this all the inner disciples are capable of? To be honest, I'm a little disappointed."

Zhou Huaijin's face turned ashen, and he was about to speak.

Yun Weiyang flipped her left hand, and a bronze-yellow bell appeared in her palm.

The Bell of Terror.

The bell jingled gently.

Ding!

The crisp sound of bells echoed across the training ground, like invisible needles piercing Zhou Huaijin's ears.

Zhou Huaijin's expression changed drastically, and the ghostly energy within his body began to surge violently. The fierce ghosts he had devoured struggled wildly to the sound of the bell, trying to break free of his body.

Soon, fist-sized bumps appeared on Zhou Huaijin's skin, as if something was wriggling under the skin.

"No..." Zhou Huaijin gritted his teeth and activated his cultivation technique, trying to suppress the vengeful ghost within his body.

With a flash of sword light, Zhou Huaijin's right hand was severed at the elbow, and the severed arm fell to the ground.

Zhou Huaijin let out a shrill scream, unable to suppress it any longer. With a soft thud, a vengeful ghost emerged from his left cheek, leaving a bloody hole in his face. Then a second one emerged from his chest, tearing his robes. A third one emerged from his abdomen, pulling out a piece of intestine.

One after another, vengeful ghosts emerged from Zhou Huaijin's body, and soon his body was riddled with holes, with blood and bits of flesh flying everywhere.

Soon, he fell silent.

The Hundred Demon Banner fell to the ground, and the light on the banner dimmed.

The alarm bell was still ringing. The vengeful ghosts that emerged from Zhou Huaijin's body howled, struggled, and tore at each other in response to the bell's ringing, as if they were being scorched by a raging fire. As the bell's ringing became more and more urgent, the ghosts' figures exploded one after another, turning into wisps of grayish-white ghostly energy that dissipated into the air.

The training ground was a complete mess.

The disciples in the stands had different expressions.

"Zhou Huaijin... just like that, dead?"

"Yun Weiyang's bell is practically the nemesis of vengeful ghosts. Was he prepared all along?"

"What's the origin of this bell? It doesn't seem like an ordinary magical artifact."

On the high platform, Zuo Shulong looked at the bronze-yellow bell, his brows furrowing slightly: "A magical artifact to subdue vengeful spirits..."

Shen Longlin chuckled: "This kid has quite a few trump cards up his sleeve."

Yan Qihui's gaze fell on the Soul-Startling Bell, lingered for a moment, and then looked away. It was just a magical artifact, not worth paying attention to.

Yun Weiyang bent down and picked up the Hundred Ghosts Banner. After examining it for a moment, she noticed that the fierce ghosts on the banner had all dissipated, leaving only a few broken seal characters. Its quality was far inferior to before.

With a casual toss, the Hundred Ghosts Banner arced through the air and landed in front of Yin Xuanling.

"Senior Brother Yin, this banner looks quite high quality to me, you can have it."

The stands erupted in uproar.

The disciples exchanged bewildered glances. Was Yun Weiyang humiliating Yin Xuanling? A newly initiated disciple, in front of tens of thousands of people, was giving a gift to a true disciple?

Yin Xuanling looked down at the Hundred Ghosts Banner that had fallen to his feet, his face ashen. From the shadows beneath his feet, a black-scaled dragon claw suddenly reached out and grabbed the banner.

Click!

The banner was crushed to pieces, and scraps of cloth and bamboo chips spilled from between the dragon's claws.

Yin Xuanling raised her head and looked at Yun Weiyang on the martial arts arena, her eyes filled with a murderous intent that was almost tangible.

Yun Weiyang met Yin Xuanling's gaze with a smile, showing no sign of backing down.

"It's too troublesome to do it one by one. Anyone who is willing to teach can come up."

These words immediately caused an uproar in the stands.

"Arrogant!"

"Does he really think he's invincible?"

"He's just relying on the advantage of magical artifacts and supernatural powers. In a real fight, what is he?"

The disciples around her looked cold. Yun Weiyang's strength, which she had previously displayed, was not that great. At least in their eyes, it was just a bit strange.

Zhao Kui died because of his own demon, and Zhou Huaijin died because of the restraint of his magic weapon. If they were to fight head-on, this junior brother who had just started his training might not be their match.

With an exchange of glances, the twelve inner disciples rose almost simultaneously, leaping out and landing on the training ground, surrounding Yun Weiyang in the center.

There were twelve people, twelve Dao Embryos. These people practiced different cultivation methods and their cultivation levels varied, but the weakest of them was still in the middle stage of the Dao Embryo stage. They were all outstanding disciples among the inner sect disciples.

The atmosphere in the stands instantly became tense.

"One against twelve?"

"That's practically suicide."

On the high platform, Shen Longlin chuckled: "This kid certainly knows how to get himself into trouble."

Zuo Shulong sneered: "Arrogant and conceited, just like his master."

Li Qinghe's expression turned slightly cold as she placed her hand on the Seven Kill Sword. Nong Tingshi raised his hand, pressed down on her wrist, and shook his head slightly.

Yan Qihui remained smiling, his gaze fixed on Yun Weiyang as if she were an interesting toy.

Yin Xuanling crossed his arms, a cold smile playing on his lips. Of the twelve people, three were his men.