Shiva Valos, Bitter Battle!

At the peak of Mist Mountain, gale-force winds cut like blades, shredding the clouds into scraps of torn cotton.

Shiva Valos's snow-white skirt had long been soaked through with blood, and the once-dazzling divine patterns flickered faintly beneath the filthy stains.

She gripped her bloodstained silver whip tightly, her disheveled hair clinging to her pale cheeks. Every crack of her whip carried an unmistakable tremor.

The two middle-aged guards beside her—Fa Zixiong and Zhang Min—were equally bedraggled.

Half a broken blade was lodged in Fa Zixiong's left shoulder, while blood gushed from Zhang Min's right leg, yet they still shielded her firmly between them.

"Saintess, we'll cover the rear! Run!"

Fa Zixiong swung his Mystic Iron Heavy Sword fiercely, knocking back three men in black. Sword qi plowed a ditch half a zhang deep into the cliff face.

"There's a void passage ahead. Enter the Ancient Secret Realm, and we can shake them off!"

Shiva Valos's lashes trembled violently, tears welling in her eyes.

Three days earlier, she had taken her two guards out to train, only to be targeted by Hun Wupo, the young master of Ghost Hall, on their way back.

That man, with strange crimson markings trailing from the corners of his eyes, had actually dreamed of abducting her to Ghost Hall as a concubine.

How could Shiva Valos allow him to have his way? She immediately lashed out with her whip.

Dozens of black-clad death warriors appeared behind him like ghosts and phantoms. The horn of battle sounded, and a fierce fight erupted.

The disparity in their numbers and strength was immense. They were no match for their enemies and could only fight as they fled.

Yet Hun Wupo and his men pursued them relentlessly.

Over the past few days, they had killed more than a