C27 Under the Night Sky, the Siege!

In the moonlit arena of the Yun Family Mansion, a siege was unfolding.

Over twenty Soul Cultivators, each radiating Soul Power in a spectrum of hues, encircled a girl in white.

That girl was unmistakably Yun Yilan.

"She's holding up impressively long. Great Elder Yun Yan, your daughter is quite remarkable," Lin Zongshan, clad in a green robe, remarked as he observed the scene, addressing the bloodied Yun Yan at his feet.

Yun Yan paid him no mind, his gaze filled with fury as he turned to Yun Linguang standing beside the stage and bellowed, "Yun Linguang, we may have our disputes, but they remain within the family. How could you... How could you conspire with outsiders?" He couldn't finish his sentence before a gush of blood spilled uncontrollably from his mouth, his complexion deathly pale.

"Blame your good-for-nothing son-in-law!"

At those words, Yun Linguang scoffed, "He dared to cripple my Feng'er and Yao'er. Without tearing him to shreds, how could I ever appease the hatred seething within me?"

The mere thought of Su Yun made him clench his teeth in rage.

He was indeed pushed to the brink of madness!

Yun Feng had been left bedridden and gasping for life by Su Yun, fueling a murderous rage in him. Discovering that Yun Liyao's injuries were identical to Yun Feng's had nearly driven him to insanity. Yet, he restrained himself due to the warning from the middle-aged man of the Yuntian Sect. But upon returning to the mansion and receiving a certain piece of news, he snapped.

Yun Feng was dead.

After clinging to life for days, he couldn't hold on any longer.

Yun Feng had lost his mind completely!

His pride, his beloved son, was gone!

Dead, just like that!

The warning from the black-haired man of the Yuntian Sect was now a distant thought, utterly disregarded!

Lin Zongshan shared his sentiments.

The death of Lin Hee, the crippling of Lin Feng, and the Lin family's exclusion from the High Sect selection had driven him to the edge of madness as well.

Yun Linguang approached him at just the right time, and the two immediately clicked, swiftly devising a plan for their nocturnal operation.

They weren't driven solely by rage, though. Before setting their plan into motion, they had already considered an escape route: leaving the Tiancang Empire. The Yuntian Sect's influence might be far-reaching, but it was confined to the empire's borders. Once outside, they'd be free as birds in the sky, making it a challenge for the sect to track them down.

"You've lost your mind!!" Yun Yan exclaimed in anger upon hearing Yun Linguang's plan. "Aren't you worried about the Old Family Head finding out?"

"The Old Family Head?" Yun Linguang paused, his expression shifting as he looked at Yun Yan, his eyes reflecting a mysterious pity.

"What's with that look?" Yun Yan's brow furrowed deeply.

Yun Linguang offered no explanation.

Bang!

Suddenly, the area was rocked by a loud noise. Yun Yilan, clad in white, was overwhelmed by the onslaught of over twenty Soul Cultivators. With a forceful palm strike, one of them sent her flying into a willow tree at the edge of the battlefield. She vomited a mouthful of blood, her face turning deathly pale.

"It looks like it's over," Yun Linguang remarked coolly.

"Yilan..." Yun Yan bit his lip, Soul Power beginning to rise within him as he attempted to rise.

Crack!

But before he could fully muster his Soul Power, a foot came crashing down, scattering it.

"Just stay put," Lin Zongshan commanded, his foot planted firmly on Yun Yan's chest.

With a fresh spurt of blood, Yun Yan, already gravely injured, coughed violently under the pressure.

"Yun Yan, oh Yun Yan, after all these years of rivalry, did you ever imagine it would come to this?" Yun Linguang crouched down, looking at Yun Yan pinned under Lin Zongshan's boot, and chuckled.

Yun Yan could only glare back at him with fierce determination.

"As your long-standing rival, allow me to present you with a parting gift!"

Yun Linguang rose to his feet, his gaze settling on Yun Yilan, who lay before the willow tree. With a smirk, he quipped, "There's an old saying: the elderly bid farewell to the young in death. That little fiend gave us a taste of that sorrow. Now, it's your turn to savor it!"

With a shared glance, Yun Linguang and Lin Zongshan commanded the encircling Soul Cultivators, "Kill her!"

The Soul Cultivators drew their blades, the tips scraping against the ground as they advanced on Yun Yilan like harbingers of death.

"Damn it, stop!!"

Yun Yan was beside himself with rage.

But with his severe injuries, he was powerless under the combined might of Yun Linguang and Lin Zongshan. One stood on his body while the other forced his head down, ensuring his eyes were fixed on the unfolding horror.

The twenty-odd Soul Cultivators were now within a meter of Yun Yilan, their weapons glinting ominously as they prepared to strike.

Beneath the willow, Yun Yilan desperately tried to muster her Soul Power for a final stand, but it dissipated before it could fully form.

"Ugh!"

The effort worsened her internal injuries, and she coughed up blood.

"Kill!"

Yun Linguang and Lin Zongshan's icy command echoed simultaneously.

Yun Yilan caught a glimpse of Yun Yan pinned to the ground, and her face was etched with a grimace of despair.

The lethal gleam of over twenty blades filled her vision, the scent of death overwhelming.

"Thunder Hammer—!!"

But in that instant, a roar like a clap of thunder shattered the stillness of the night, reverberating through the martial arts arena.

A hammer, crackling with yellow lightning, appeared as if a divine thunderbolt had struck the ground.

Boom—!!

The sound echoed, resonating through the arena.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Over twenty Soul Cultivators, who just a moment before had brandished their swords and blades, were now scattered by the thunderous force accompanying the swing of a massive hammer. They were sent flying in all directions, coughing up blood.

A figure, shrouded in lightning and resembling a war deity, suddenly appeared before the willow tree.

Yilan, who had been engulfed in despair, was captivated by the sight of this figure.

She could never have imagined that in her darkest hour, such a person would emerge before her. And clearly, it was...

"Su... Su Yun..."

Yilan's mouth was half-open when she attempted to speak, but a spurt of blood surged forth, and she stumbled, struggling to stay upright.

Just as she was about to collapse, a firm arm caught her.

"I'm sorry, I'm late!" Su Yun said, looking down at Yun Yilan's ashen face with a flicker of anguish in his eyes.

"Go... Hurry..."

Hearing this, Yun Yilan glanced at the Soul Cultivators who, despite being thrown about, had not sustained grave injuries and were getting to their feet. She urged him frantically.

Su Yun gently shook his head and whispered, "Wait for me, I'll be right back."

With those words, he carefully propped Yun Yilan's frail form against the willow tree.

Then he turned, his eyes filling with an icy chill as if he had stepped straight out of the netherworld.