Chapter 669- Tianlong Balls deep in a Thick Bitch
"Then we handle him. Accordingly. You are my disciple, Lin Feng. You have the Reincarnation Soul Art. You have the body of a Core Formation cultivator. And you have the ring — my knowledge, my techniques, my guidance. We will deal with this ancestor as we have dealt with every obstacle in the past twelve years."
Lin Feng’s lips curved. The smile was cold. Predatory. The expression of Shen Wuji — the upper realm cultivator beneath the mask of Lin Feng.
"Let the ancestor come," he said. "I will kill him. And I will make him my blood pill."
He walked. The corridor stretched before him. His Core Formation qi circulated, steady and strong. His dark eyes were focused. His handsome face was composed.
He passed the garden. The spirit-plum blossoms fell around him — pink and white, the petals drifting in the mountain breeze.
His hand went to his ring. He twisted it again.
"Master," he said. "The woman. The princess."
"What about her?"
"The Fate Value. The Azure Dragon Marrow. The Fairy Daisy bloodline. Is it still necessary?"
"Entirely necessary. Without the Fate Value from her bloodline, you cannot reconstruct your original body. Without your original body, you cannot ascend to the upper realm. You remain trapped in this lower realm — in this borrowed body — indefinitely."
Lin Feng’s jaw tightened. "Then I cannot let this ancestor take her."
"No. You cannot. The Azure Dragon Marrow — the Fairy Daisy bloodline — is a once-in-a-millennium spiritual constitution. If this ancestor takes her maidenhood, the Fate Value transfers to him. Not to you."
"Then he dies."
"He dies."
Lin Feng’s smile widened. The cold, predatory smile of a man who had spent twelve years planning, building, waiting. He reached the end of the corridor. The mountain air hit his face — clean, cold, thick with spiritual energy.
Behind him, in her chamber, Jin Yuhan sat on her bed. Her slender body was curled, her knees drawn to her chest, her silk robes pooled around her. Her dark eyes were wet. Her full lips were trembling. Her hands — small, pale, jade-nailed — gripped the fabric of her robe.
She was thinking of Lin Feng. Of his arms around her. Of his voice — warm, loving, protective. Of his promise.
’He will protect me. He will not let anyone take me. Lin Feng. My Lin Feng.’
’My love.’
She pressed her face into her knees. She cried. The tears soaked into her silk robes. The jade pendant at her waist swayed.
"Hic.... sob.... why... why?"
They flew.
Five streaks of spiritual light cut across the sky — silver, blue, white, green, gold — moving at speeds that left contrails of condensed qi in their wake. The formation was tight, the sect leader at the center, the four elders flanking him in a diamond pattern, their robes whipping in the spiritual wind, their cultivation bases radiating outward in waves that parted the clouds beneath them.
Jin Wuchen flew with his arms behind his back. His enormous frame cut through the air like a blade through silk, his peak Golden Core energy creating a visible aura of golden light around his body. His square jaw was set. His dark eyes were focused on the horizon — on the eastern sky where the spiritual energy was thickest.
"Can you feel it?" Elder Biyu said. Her voice carried through the spiritual wind, sharp and precise. She flew to his right, her slender body trailing silver qi, her sharp eyes narrowed against the wind. "The density. The — the weight of it. It is unlike anything I have sensed in forty years of cultivation."
"I feel it," Jin Wuchen said. His deep voice was flat. Controlled. The voice of a man who was forcing himself to remain calm in the face of something that defied his understanding.
"It is like standing beneath a waterfall," Elder Hanlin said from the left flank. His white beard streamed behind him, his old body carried by a cushion of golden qi. "The spiritual energy — it is not merely dense. It is pressurized. Compressed. As though the natural qi of this entire region has been drawn toward a single point and condensed."
"The breakthroughs," Elder Suwen said, her round face pale. "Each one — each pillar of light we counted — they were not merely expelling energy. They were drawing energy inward. Gathering it. The spiritual qi of the eastern lands is flowing toward — toward him. Toward the ancestor."
Elder Tianqing — the youngest — flew at the rear. His handsome face was tight with barely suppressed fear. "The readings from our formation array confirmed it. The spiritual energy density in the eastern region has increased by forty percent in the past three days. Forty percent. In three days. That is — that is impossible through natural means. It would require a formation of — of Nascent Soul level, at minimum, operating continuously."
"Then it is confirmed," Jin Wuchen said. "This being is operating at a level beyond Nascent Soul. Beyond anything in the lower realms. We are approaching something that we do not fully comprehend."
They flew in silence. The clouds parted before them. The mountains below shrank. The eastern sky grew brighter — not with sunlight, but with the residual golden glow that hung in the atmosphere like a permanent dawn.
And then they felt it.
The tornado.
It was not a tornado of wind. It was a tornado of spiritual energy — a vortex of condensed qi, spiraling upward from the ground, visible to the naked eye as a column of shimmering, golden-white light. It stretched from the earth to the heavens, the base wide enough to cover a village, the peak disappearing into the stratosphere. The energy within it was — Jin Wuchen’s spiritual sense recoiled the moment it touched the surface.
’Hot. Dense. Heavy. Like plunging one’s hand into molten gold. This is — this is the spiritual energy of a being who has condensed his power into a — a locus. A center of gravity. The qi of the entire region is orbiting around him.’
"He’s there," Jin Wuchen said. "At the center. Descend."
They dropped. The five streaks of light angled downward, piercing the cloud layer, the mountain peaks rushing up to meet them. The wind howled. The spiritual pressure increased — exponentially, with every meter of descent. Elder Tianqing’s cultivation base stuttered, his golden core flickering. Elder Hanlin’s white beard stopped streaming and hung limp, the old man’s body struggling against the pressure.
"Hold your foundations," Jin Wuchen commanded. His voice carried the weight of his peak Golden Core authority, the words reinforced with spiritual energy that stabilized his elders’ cultivation bases. "We are guests. We approach with respect."
They landed at the base of a rocky outcropping — a natural formation of weathered stone, partially obscured by wild vegetation, with a cave entrance visible at its base. The ground was warm beneath their feet. The air was thick — almost liquid — with spiritual energy. The golden glow was everywhere, permeating everything, the light emanating from the stone itself.
And then they heard it.
The moans.
"Loud — drawn-out — the sound of a woman’s voice, echoing from within the cave, distorted by the stone walls but unmistakable in its character. The tone was not one of pain alone. It carried — it carried the unmistakable quality of — of physical intimacy. Of coupling. Of a body being used.
"No — please — stop — you bastard — have mercy —" The woman’s voice was ragged. Broken. The words punctuated by wet, rhythmic sounds — the slap of flesh on flesh, heavy and wet, echoing from the cave like drumbeats. "I cannot — I cannot feel my lower body — please — you’ve been at this for — for hours —"