“Have you really lost your mind, Youjin Fuqiang?” Youjin Chun said. She had been silent until now, but her rage could no longer be contained.

She raised her face up; her milky white skin had a furious red hue as she drew her dim gold sword and pointed it at the former patriarch. “You say you love the clan, but you smear our name through the mud by colluding with devils! Not only do you insult the Xiyue but dare even to offend the great Fairy Su in front of her no less! How ridiculous, to even have the face to show up. You should have stayed dead.”

“You are Youjin Chun.” Youjin Fuqiang stroked his beard. He then snorted, his compound eyes narrowing, “What an insolent girl. What right do you have to speak on Youjin’s behalf? Merely the daughter of a branch family, has your fiend hunter of a father not taught you manners? I should cut off your tongue for daring to speak like that to your elders.”

“How dare you, a corpse from the grave, be so arrogant. You dare to disrespect the Su, so why would I not dare to disrespect you when you rightly deserve it, criminal!” Youjin Chun said, “Listen with your deaf ears, for I am the current heiress of the clan. My father, the patriarch. And you, are nothing but our dishonour of the past.”

“Heiress?” This time, it was Youjin Fuqiang who was taken aback. He snapped his head towards the Formation Elder, “Yetu. What is the meaning of this? You didn’t choose a mere fiendhunter to lead the clan, did you? That kid Youjin Liu?”

“He is Youjin Gengxin’s brother, and the closest to breaking through to Core Formation, the Imperfect Heaven 3rd Realm. It only makes sense,” Youjin Yetu replied, casting a side eye at Youjin Chun. “Since now, the Malignant Moon Sword Sect and the Duan are no longer an option either.” He then sighed, “But Fuqiang, does it matter to you?”

Youjin Fuqiang took a step back. He looked at the pillar in deep thought, closing his eyes. The antennae that braided his fuzzy foxmoth hair constricted, and more veins appeared on his skin.

No one made a sound.

Except for Yung, who fired another pink heart beam. But as usual, his aim was bad, and he hit one of the robed figures.

But even the moaning and groaning cultists didn’t get Fuqiang to open his eyes.

“Damn it, why is it that with the Divine Hawk Gang, I did a triple kill with one spear throw, but now I can’t hit anything? Is the miracle thing snake oil after all?” Yung was frustrated.

"Oh, my dear servant, do understand that your so-called miracle won't grace you with its presence unless you and your little band of devotees yearn for the same event to occur, with a passion that matches at least a tenth, no, a hundredth of what you futilely feel for us. For a miracle requires unity in desire, a fervent wish shared amongst you all, got it?

Youjin Fuqiang opened his eyes; they were menacing. It seems he had had enough of Nanya. “I am not your servant to your clan of pretender immortals! Do not be so arrogant to think that you can beguile any man with your prostitute mean!” He roared.

Nanya fired another beam, seething.

Yung had to ask.

Her beam didn’t hit Youjin Fuqiang. The former patriarch swapped it away with a grimace, then put his hands behind his back, growling, “You have stalled for long enough. Answer me now, my Youjin kin. Join us, or perish.”

Yung wrote.

“Dear me, we had forgotten–nay! We do not forget. And no, again, we detest such means of communication.”

“But why?”

“Why must you make me speak the obvious over and over again, you sorrowful son of desire? Where is the texture of the voice when you speak to us? Where is the heat in your gaze and flavour in your breath as you bathe in our radiance?” The giant vixen said.

“But you did it before—” Yung protested.

“It is not for you to dictate how I talk!” Youjin Fuqiang was livid, “Do even go so low as to try and seduce me in such a situation; how far has the Su fallen? Fine, oh corrupted grace, if you are offering up your virgin yin, our lord will have it.”

“We merely humour you, but we shall not stand for such impersonal conversations. You shall use your tongue!” Nanya didn’t pay Youjin Fuqiang any attention at all. Her priorities were straight.

“Come on,” Yung was tired. It did make him happy that Nanya put so much emphasis on direct and personal communication though. “Can’t you see that there is a time and place for tantrums, Nyanya?”

“Humour me? Can you not see the situation? We are hundreds, and you are merely in the Blood Refining realm! Even the Su Fox clan will not have any tricks to get out of this situation—tongue? You wish for the lord to…. Oh, you sinful, t-this!” Youjin Fuqiang pointed a trembling finger at Su Nanya and spat.

“No. No, no, no, no, no! We wish not for some written words. We wish for you to gaze into our eyes and fall limp like a worm as you whisper kind words of desire. Heed me, or I’ll—” Nanya paid him no mind and glared at Yung.

“Alright, fine. You win. But I still think it is prudent not to use voices.” Yung said. “I’ll speak directly. Happy?”

Nanya grinned.

Youjin Fuqiang spat blood. “Heed? You arrogant vixen, destroyer of empires! Limp as a worm? Dare you call our lord a limp worm, you harlot of no shame and honour? You dare act so prideful being merely a woman?” He seemed to have enough, “Our lord has killed your sister, the corrupted grace from the west, with naught but a portion of his power. Do you not feel the influence of the lost plane here, blurring the planar influence of the Last Ascension Mortal Plane and your puny Revival Sword Tower? You, vixen, are not immortal here! And now, you shall die.” The former patriarch said his piece.

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Yung fired another pink heart beam at him; it missed and hit a foxmoth voidfiend.

“Enough!” Youjin Fuqiang said again, “Stop trying to shame me with these depraved arts.” He snapped a finger, and the two mating foxmoths died, “If it is a fight you want, a fight you shall get.” He then looked at the Youjin clansfolk, “I have given you a fair chance. But I have my limits. Would you rather serve this depraved Su vixen than the great lord?”

“Fuqiang,” Youjin Tiantian, the crafting elder, spoke with a slow shake of her head, “I have lost too many kin to voidfiends and devils. You… you are both.”

“So be it.” The former patriarch said. He looked genuinely sad, “Goodbye, old friend—”

Nanya attacked, the crown on her head shining green and gold. The patriarch tried to swat the beam away again, but it exploded before reaching him, making him blast off for the third time.

“For a wretch so devoid of yang, you sure have got some nerve, oh village headsman. Perchance, your master is woven from the same cloth, all withered and decayed, with a manhood as rotten as the rest of his forsaken corpse.” She raised her snout and howled. “We shall not have such ugly beings infecting our landbridge. Death is your home; now begone!”

Yung knew that she really was offended. Her essence qi and origin qi mixed together into another golden beam of light, this time far brighter. It tore through three hooded figures and the voidfiend foxmoths, blasting Youjin Fuqiang even deeper into the wall as the former patriarch tried to get up.

“Kill them!” came a furious reply from the dust cloud. “Deliver their heads!”

And the hooded humanoids attacked.

“Deliver them to the lord,” said one figure who was particularly beefy. He raised his bow; it was a sickly thing made from brittle bone. The strange, twisted runes on it glowed purple and blue. He aimed an arrow and fired.

The arrow flew towards the death dome like a pale meteor, and it was followed by similar attacks from all directions.

“Deliver them to the lord!” the other robbed humanoids spoke at the same time.

This was the first time Yung heard them speak audible speech, other than the strange moans when they had been hit with the pink heart beam.

It was the same Chinese-like language the natives and madlanders spoke. But it had a strange accent. The way they said them, the way the words were intoned.

The dim gold severance danced furiously as Youjin Yetu’s fingers moved in a blur, and many more dim gold threads spun out from the Youjin clansfolks’ swords.

It blocked most of the attacks. A few flew overhead and crashed into the cave walls behind them. The attack collapsed the exit at their back, cutting off their retreat.

“Dammit!” Ziyou Maque cursed, “We should have left rather than listening to Old Fuqiang’s nonsense.”

“Do you think he would have let us?” Youjin Tenghou said, “A fight is inevitable.”

The gang leader concentrated qi on his arm, which held his spear, “Sevenfold mountain god’s lance!” He threw it, followed by six others.

The spears flew towards the hooded cultists with pinpoint accuracy.

But seven arrows flew in from random directions and intercepted the attacks.

It was the same beefy cultist with the bow from before, “Cry, scream, rage, and despair. It is such sweet nectar to my ears.” The figure said, laughing.

“Ain’t that a shame. That one’s at the peak of Imperfect Heaven 2nd realm,” Ziyou Maque muttered. “Ling’er, stay with Fairy Su.”

“But pa—”

“Don’t talk back, you brat. Ain’t no way you can, damn heavens—”

Just as he said that, an arrow broke through the battle formation.

Youjin Gangkai raised his sword high and deflected it.

“Yetu, Tiantian, my old friends,” Youjin Fuqiang spoke again, “I am pushing my favour with the lord; I am placing my honour as a payment. You cannot live otherwise. This truly is the final chance; join me!”

“We don’t bargain with devils!” It was Youjin Tenghou who replied.

Youjin Fuqiang simply sighed. He raised his carapaced hands, his scaled fingers wriggling like they were worms.

At the same time, it was as if the swirling of the death dome stopped, just for a second.

“Fuqiang, you—” Youjin Yetu cried out.

“Though you are too brainwashed by the Su Fox Clann to admit it, I, too, remain a Youjin.” Thin, dim gold threads were leaving his fingers. They spread throughout the cavern, on the floor and on the walls.

The foxmoth voidfiends cried, their wings fluttering, spore-like particles spreading through the air like fairy dust.

Youjin Yetu looked horrified. Suddenly, the qi he released increased multiplefold as though he was trying to protect the death dome itself from an unseen enemy.

“Useless.” Youjin Fuqiang waited, strange devilish qi mixed in with the qi of the void rose from his silhouette. He opened his mouth, and exhaled a pale purple fume, and, “Behold, the power of Core Formation.”

Pulled.

The threads from the foxmoth voidfiends snapped taut all around the Youjin clan’s battle formation. It created a similar death dome on the outside, and swirled.

In the opposite direction.

“Defensive arts and artefacts, now!” Youjin Gangkai roared. He grabbed Youjin Chun. Ziyou Maque also grabbed Ziyou Ling.

The two teenage girls were thrown towards Su Nanya, and they crashed against the ground by her feet. The giant vixen moved to the left, disgusted.

Before the two teenage girls could even scream, the Youjin Clan’s prided Dim Gold Severance 9th form shattered with the sound of metal wire cutting into glass.

“You have a long way to go, Yetu,” Youjin Fuqiang said, almost moaning, “Do you not see this? This prowess the lord has granted me. This is the true meaning of strength!”

The threads the former patriarch had used had also snapped, and they were falling from the sky like stringy snow, mixed in with the dim gold silk of the Youjin clan.

“N-Nanya, isn’t this bad?” Yung didn’t fire any more pink heart beams. It was useless, and even if his heart qi were near limitless with all the worship, he would rather concentrate on keeping the Empathic Isolation going. He still remembered the first time he used it when Youjin Hong was bullying Chao.

Although he wasn’t trying to use Isolated Empathic Fixation, he would keep the option alive in case the situation needed it.

Which it might, very soon, because without the death dome to protect them, there was only one thing left.

“Deliver them to the lord!” The cultists screamed, and rushed in with bone swords and spiked spears, turning the fight into a melee.

Ziyou Maque and Youjin Gangkai both looked at Yung and pleaded with their eyes.

Yung sighed.

“I can’t guarantee my own life here—”

“But we can,” Nanya said proudly. She aimed at the incoming mob of cultists and attacked. “Be pleased, will you not?”

“But,” Yung said more forcefully, “Nanya will keep Ling and Youjin Chun safe. She has absolute confidence!” She better have, or we are all gonna die damnit!

“We shall not!” Nanya denied.

“Thank you,” Ziyou Maque said. Youjin Gangkai grunted.

“I am not going to hide behind Fairy Su’s back. Pa—”

“Ling’er!” Ziyou Maque shouted, “I’ll leave the gang to you!”

The cultist mob arrived after the first volley of their void qi-laden attack, eyes glaring blue and purple.

It was barely twenty against nearly two hundred cultists.

The first swords clashed. Youjin Gangkai roared, Ziyou Maque pierced.

The first cultist was cut in half, and the second’s head burst like a melon.

The spartan fight began for real, and Yung did not have any confidence he could leave this place alive.