When Daoist Yan flew to the upper edge of the sinkhole, she saw a black-robed figure over ten feet tall. This person was broad and towering, with features that blended hardness and softness, making it impossible to tell male from female. Bald, with terrifying demonic patterns covering half their face.
At a glance, they did not seem like a living person at all, but rather a clay idol molded in some evil god's temple.
When they saw Daoist Yan, a wicked smile suddenly appeared on their face. They began to chant obscure scripture in a droning voice, sometimes male, sometimes female, harsh and grating to the ear.
"Gods and Buddhas in heaven are no match for mortal flesh. Gods and Buddhas feel nothing; mortal flesh bears countless desires. Humans are born of desire, demons are formed by desire. Formed without dragon or tiger, the golden core illuminates the demon mother..."
The moment the scripture left their mouth, Daoist Yan suddenly felt her mind sway, as though a great hand had reached into her thoughts. After reaching the eighth realm, her spiritual platform had become solid; it had been a long time since she had felt her soul being invaded like this.
Fortunately, sword cultivators possessed especially powerful souls. Her gaze flashed, and she immediately severed her stray thoughts, leaving behind not a trace of greed, anger, or delusion. The Ancient Xiaoyun Sword was already raised to protect her body.
Yet when she looked up, she discovered that the one standing there was no longer a demon—it was Jiang Tiankuo, the Immortal Who Rode a Whale!
"Die!" Daoist Yan cried sharply. The Ancient Xiaoyun Sword shot forth in an instant, its clanging Sword Qi surging across the heavens like an ocean tide.
Boom—
The demon fetus forcibly burst out from the