Demon Suppression Envoys

Within Chang'an City, the entire city had been placed under martial law.

The Imperial Golden Guards and the Demon Suppression Bureau forces combed through every market district and every street and alley again and again, like combs raking through hair.

The House of Crimson Beauty had been completely sealed off, and they searched it inside and out, digging three feet into the ground.

Master Luo, the formation expert dispatched by the academy, tracked the fluctuations all the way and ultimately locked onto a ruined, nameless Daoist temple thirty miles outside the city.

Yet when Liu Hongyan and Chen Shuo arrived with a large number of experts, the Daoist temple was already utterly empty. Only traces of hastily cleared formations remained.

The trail had been completely severed there.

"It was two-way teleportation, and a fixed-point retrieval." After inspecting the site, Master Luo's expression turned grave. "The method was exceedingly sophisticated, and the resources involved were no small matter. I fear the person they truly intended to deal with was Old Mo."

Liu Hongyan's heart sank to the bottom. Even their last clue had been cut off. Amid the vast sea of people, where were they supposed to look?

News of Mister Mo's disappearance quickly alerted the upper ranks of the Demon Suppression Bureau. Just as Liu Hongyan and the others were at their wits' end, an immense and heart-pounding pressure silently descended upon the Demon Suppression Bureau headquarters.

A moment later, Chen Shuo was urgently summoned into the main hall.

In addition to the two deputy commanders, there were two more people in the hall.

Both wore dark-golden robes patterned with flowing clouds. One was lean and stern-faced, while the other was a chubby man with a perpetual smile, idly playing with two ancient coins in his hand. He looked harmless to man and beast.

"The Left and Right Demon Suppression Envoys!" Chen Shuo's heart jolted violently, and he hurriedly bowed.

Under the command of the Demon Suppression Bureau's commander were the Left and Right Demon Suppression Envoys. They were true peak experts who suppressed the nation's destiny and handled thorny incidents. Their status was extraordinary, and they rarely showed themselves.

The two answered only to the chief commander. No one else had the authority to interfere with them.

As for the chief commander of the Demon Suppression Bureau, he had always lived in seclusion and kept a low profile, not appearing in public for many years.

Now that both had arrived, the gravity of the situation was clear.

The chubby man swept his smiling gaze over the crowd and sighed. "Old Luo has already gone into the palace to meet His Majesty. His Majesty is furious. Right beneath the Son of Heaven's feet, in the imperial capital of our Great Tang, a student was actually plotted against and abducted by the Demon Race. Whether he lives or dies remains unknown..."

"This is a slap in the court's face, a slap in the Demon Suppression Bureau's face, and even more, a slap in His Majesty's face."

He swept an almost-smiling gaze across them, making everyone's hearts shudder.

"The commander has given his order: spare no cost. If alive, bring back the person; if dead, bring back the corpse. His Majesty has granted authorization. If necessary, the power of the Mountain-River Cauldron may be used to observe all under heaven and trace matters back to their source."

The Left Demon Suppression Envoy remained expressionless.

Everyone's hearts tightened, and the atmosphere in the hall grew heavy.

At that moment, within the Thirty-Three Heavens Map, the battle suddenly changed.

"It seems I cannot avoid using some real skill." Mo Wentian suddenly smiled leisurely, lifted his wine gourd, and tipped back his head to gulp down a mouthful.

As the wine entered his mouth, something within him seemed to shatter with a crack. A vast and majestic aura erupted from his body with a boom.

His gray robe fluttered without wind, snapping loudly, while every strand of his disheveled black hair streamed backward.

Those eyes that always carried a trace of drunkenness were now bright and clear as stars. Wherever his gaze fell, even space itself seemed to tremble faintly, releasing a groan under unbearable strain.

Perfection of the Essence Condensation Realm!

And perfection of the Essence Condensation Realm, infinitely close to entering the Dao.

"What?!"

The White Ape Demon Saint, who had been about to pounce again, suddenly froze. Its enormous body stiffened, and its crimson eyes filled with incredulous horror. "Could your injuries have been fake?"

"No! That is absolutely impossible!"

"You were clearly wounded by the Nine Nether Demon Flame back then, your Dao foundation damaged. How could you still advance..."

"That is because," Mo Wentian said indifferently, "I had already reached the late Essence Condensation Realm long ago. All these years, I merely placed a lock upon myself to suppress my injuries."

As the last word fell, Mo Wentian moved. He slowly raised his right hand and made a grasping motion toward the White Ape Demon Saint.

Boom!

In an instant, the White Ape Demon Saint felt the space around its body completely solidify beneath a terrifying force.

The speed it had always taken pride in was as fragile as paper before such an absolute disparity in power.

"No—!"

The White Ape Demon Saint released a desperate howl, frantically driving its demon core in an attempt to detonate the power of the Thirty-Three Heavens Map.

Yet Mister Mo merely calmly opened his palm. In the air, an enormous phantom hand condensed from the power of space appeared out of nowhere and came crashing down with the force to crush everything!

Crack—

Rumble!

The earth shook and the mountains trembled!

The entire space seemed about to collapse and perish beneath that single palm strike!

The protective demon light around the White Ape Demon Saint's body shattered instantly. Blood gushed wildly from its mouth like a fountain, while the bones throughout its body crackled with teeth-grinding pops. No one knew how many had broken.

But it was, after all, a Demon Saint, and it was protected by a sacred artifact. At the final moment, it decisively detonated half its demon core. Borrowing that destructive force, it forcibly broke through part of the spatial confinement.

At the same time, it frantically activated the Thirty-Three Heavens Map. Its body blurred and twisted, and at the cost of damaging its origin, it forcefully squeezed out from the edge of that palm strike. Transforming into a dim streak of blood-red light, it tore through space and fled for its life.

In the blink of an eye, it vanished beyond the horizon, leaving only a furious roar laden with endless venomous hatred echoing through the shattered space.

Mo Wentian slowly withdrew his hand. Watching the direction in which the White Ape Demon Saint had fled, he did not pursue.

Suddenly, his face turned deathly pale. He began coughing violently, dark-red blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. The vast aura around him rapidly ebbed away like a receding tide, leaving him even weaker than before.

Forcibly lifting the restriction and wielding the power of laws was more than his current body could bear.

Yet he had no time to regulate his breathing. He immediately closed his eyes, and his vast spiritual sense spread out like flowing water. Following that faint karmic connection between himself and Li Yuan, he rapidly deduced the answer.

"Southeast, three hundred li away... That's it."

Mo Wentian abruptly opened his eyes. With a flicker of his body, he transformed into a streak of light, tore open space, and sped away.

Almost at the same time, in that Daoist temple on the barren mountain outside Chang'an City.

Master Luo held a bronze compass in his hand, his brows tightly furrowed. He circled the ruins several times before finally stopping beneath an ordinary-looking broken wall.

He bit his fingertip and rapidly wrote several runes on the compass with his essence blood, then slapped his palm against the back of the compass.

Hum!

A thin silver thread suddenly shot from the center of the compass and sank beneath the broken wall. Immediately afterward, the ground trembled faintly, and rings of pale-silver ripples spread outward like waves, vaguely outlining an incomparably complex formation.

"Found it!"

"It's a teleportation anchor point. Although the main formation has been destroyed, a spatial beacon remains." Master Luo's spirits rose. "Give me the time it takes to burn one incense stick, and I will surely calculate the location."

Hearing this, everyone was reinvigorated. They immediately guarded the surrounding area and cleared the site. Master Luo sat cross-legged, took out various formation artifacts, and began his full deduction.

Within the dim secret chamber, the battle had become unimaginably brutal.

Li Yuan was drenched in blood. His blue robe had long been dyed a dark red, and his body bore more than a dozen wounds of varying sizes. The deepest was on his left shoulder, where bone was nearly visible.

It had been inflicted by Shadow Thirteen's short blade, which was also coated in demon poison. Waves of numbness constantly spread through him, disrupting the circulation of his true qi.