Although the violet lightning had already been softened somewhat through tempering her body, Jian Dan still felt as if her Golden Core was about to be shattered. After enduring the first nine strikes of heavenly tribulation, her core began spinning faster in her dantian, surrounded by crackling arcs of lightning.
The sky darkened further, and even nearby mortals began to take notice of the strange phenomenon. But Jian Dan couldn't spare a thought for that now. With a wave of her hand, she buried herself once more in a ring of spirit stones, then drank deeply from a vial of spiritual spring water.
She had to act quickly to repair the meridians damaged by the lightning and stabilize the slightly unstable Golden Core. The second half of the tribulation would fall even faster and hit even harder.
A flood of spiritual energy surged into Jian Dan's body, rapidly mending her meridians. It also widened and reinforced them, connecting smaller inner channels she hadn't opened before. All of it converged back into her newly formed Golden Core. Though it had shrunk slightly in size, it now gleamed more brilliantly than ever, flashing with five-colored light.
"The second wave is starting."
Without a sound, thicker arcs of violet lightning began falling from the sky, faster than before, striking Jian Dan one after another without pause.
Each bolt brought pain, but also exhilaration. With every strike, another purple pattern etched itself onto her Golden Core. When the ninth appeared, Jian Dan knew the moment had come. She guided the lightning into her Twin Moon Flood Dragon Sword, then slashed it behind her, cutting a tear in the formation.
Just as Jian Dan leapt away, Yan Su raised a translucent pearl and flung it directly into the half-emerged mouth of the Azure Dragon. "Seal."
The dragon let out a furious roar as its form was slowly sucked into the pearl. The orb, once transparent, turned deep crimson with blood.
Luo Kong cast his prayer beads into the air. They formed a luminous ring, pulling all the trapped souls from the collapsing formation and drawing them into a single prayer bead.
Meanwhile, the others raised their swords, breaking apart the leaking black mist and purging it completely.
With the Azure Dragon sealed, the ritual formation began to destabilize. The runes etched into the ground flashed chaotically. The illusion that cloaked the entire village flickered between two scenes—one a peaceful rural town, the other a hellish wasteland of blood and bones.
Only now did He Jintang and the others see the village's true state. Their expressions turned grim. None of them had expected that someone would dare target mortals in such a brutal fashion.
Above them, the heavens responded to Jian Dan's ascension. A gentle spiritual rain began to fall, soaking her charred body. It washed through her burned flesh, repairing damaged meridians as it trickled inward toward her dantian. There, it was absorbed by the Yin side of the Taiji diagram within her, further nourishing the Golden Core. The core expanded again, glowing steadily with life.
At a thought, Jian Dan summoned the silver-armored insect pinned to her robes. It flowed out in a liquid shimmer, and within five breaths, encased her body in a gleaming carapace. Its color had grown brighter since its first appearance. The spiritual spring water had likely accelerated its growth. It was now larger than when it first accepted her as its master.
"Which lowly insect dares destroy my formation?"
A booming voice roared from the sky. Black clouds rolled overhead, and a massive black palm came crashing down from above, covering Jian Dan's group, as well as Luo Kong and Yan Su.
The intent was clear: to kill them all in one strike.
Jian Dan quickly cast a protective bell shield. He Jintang activated his talisman. Kong Yu darted left and right, moving with fluid steps. Luo Kong raised his prayer beads over his head, while Yan Su's expression turned cold as he drew his weapon—a poison-coated dagger named Cold Moon Blade.
None of them ran.
As if by instinct, the six of them each took position at a different angle and struck at once. Jian Dan punched upward, wrapped in violet light. He Jintang unleashed nine sword strikes in a flash. Kong Yu's flying sword pierced toward the sky, fueled by his essence. Cao Chenfeng lifted his blade and brought it down with condensed sword qi. Luokong's Subduing Demon Palm soared into the air. Yan Su hurled the Cold Moon Blade, surrounded by roiling demonic qi, in a spinning arc toward the black hand.
A tremendous boom rang out. Their combined attacks were all neutralized in midair.
The black palm only paused for a moment before continuing to descend.
The wind from the blow slammed Jian Dan into the ground. Blood spilled from her ears, nose, and mouth as her internal energy surged wildly. He Jintang and Kong Yu coughed up blood instantly. Cao Chenfeng's face turned deathly pale, suffering backlash from his own sword qi. Luo Kong's prayer beads slipped from his hand. Yan Su's Cold Moon Blade returned and slammed into him, shaking his entire body with turbulent demonic energy.
Jian Dan stole a quick glance at the other side of the sky and muttered inwardly,"Why hasn't Zhēnjūn made his move? We can't hold out much longer..."
Hidden high in the clouds, Jian Wu Zhēnjūn watched the battle unfold with interest. These juniors weren't too bad, all things considered. Among them, Shan Yunzu's performance stood out. As for Feng Nianyue, who hadn't even shown her face, Jian Wu Zhēnjūn had little faith in her potential.
In fact, she had nearly fallen into a trap due to her inexperience. If not for the others disrupting the plot, she might have been seriously harmed. Her lack of tempering was painfully obvious.
These thoughts flashed through Jian Wu Zhēnjūn's mind, but they did nothing to delay what came next.
When a Nascent Soul cultivator strikes, the world responds.
Jian Wu Zhēnjūn was no ordinary cultivator, but a true sword cultivator. Fighting opponents above his level was commonplace. The one behind this formation was vicious to the core, feeding on mortal blood and soul to nourish evil spirits. Letting him live would disgrace Jian Wu Zhēnjūn's sword.
A colossal white sword tore through the sky, slicing through the clouds as wind and thunder roared in its wake. It slashed directly toward the black palm—and the shadowy figure behind it.