Cultivation Starts from Farming Chapter 949 - 413: Farewell to Hongyi

The intense conflict raged on for an extended period, with the allied forces advancing methodically, vanquishing and cleansing the formidable Ancient Demons that acted as guardians.

At long last, Ao Qin, the Dragon King, identified a critical opening. He bore a direct assault from the Demoness’s ultimate divine technique upon his draconic physique, then unleashed his immense tail, akin to a celestial lash, against the desolate gray-black Erosion Realm Secret Ceremony.

Boom!

A cataclysmic detonation, resonating like the fragmentation of celestial bodies, reverberated through the domain.

The Erosion Realm Secret Ceremony convulsed violently, its surface erupting with a myriad of fractures. The immense quantities of deathly aura and Malevolent Qi contained within surged outward uncontrollably, like a deluge unleashed from a breached embankment.

"No!"

A shrill cry of profound fury erupted from the exquisite female figure.

She had descended into this world as per her directive, incurring a substantial sacrifice, and had effectively subjugated this reality. Just as victory was within her grasp, with aspirations of attaining the six-tiered Demon Lord status through this very endeavor, her entire scheme had unraveled.

Now, all her efforts had dissolved into nothingness.

Overwhelmed by absolute despair, she descended into a state of frenzied rage.

She initiated a reckless consumption of her primordial Demon Essence, intending to obliterate both Ao Qin and Yun Weifeng.

However, precisely at this critical juncture—

Buzz!

An unfathomable, ancient, and terrifying pressure, laden with an absolute repelling force, suddenly emanated from the deepest recesses of the Ancient Demon Hall.

It was as though the very "will" of this ancient artifact had been provoked into a complete and utter rage.

Directly above the sacrificial altar, the very fabric of space was violently ripped asunder, giving birth to a colossal, ink-black spatial tear.

From the depths of this rift emanated a horrific, inescapable gravitational pull.

This potent suction primarily targeted all the Ancient Demons present within the vicinity.

Be they the surviving Demon Generals or the maddened, beautiful woman at the epicenter, they were inexorably drawn towards the immense spatial rift, their struggles proving utterly futile.

With a final, piercingly venomous shriek, the Demoness was instantly swallowed by the rift, vanishing without a trace.

Only a select few Ancient Demons, situated at a greater distance or possessing lesser cultivation, were fortunate enough to escape this cataclysmic event.

Witnessing this profound display, the coalition forces, despite their lingering uncertainty and suspicion, collectively exhaled a massive sigh of relief.

The most perilous threat had, at last, been decisively neutralized.

"Depart!"

"This location is no longer safe; the oppressive force is escalating, and soon we shall all be forcibly ejected!"

Ao Qin, the Dragon King, reverted to his human guise, his complexion pallid, clearly indicating the immense expenditure of his power in withstanding the Demoness's potent strike and dismantling the Erosion Realm Secret Ceremony.

Without a moment's hesitation, he transformed into a streak of golden light, accelerating towards the designated exit.

Yun Weifeng and the others, not daring to delay, likewise shifted into streaks of escaping light, following closely in his wake.

The repulsive forces exerted by the Ancient Demon Hall were indeed intensifying at an alarming rate, inducing a pervasive discomfort throughout their bodies and actively impeding the circulation of their mana.

However, just as the entire coalition believed they had achieved complete egress—

Within the labyrinthine depths of the Ancient Demon Hall, amidst a heap of desolate, collapsed rubble, a subtle glint of golden luminescence flickered, unnoticed by any.

As the light subsided, a solitary figure was revealed – it was Ao Qin, who had surreptitiously returned.

His expression etched with gravity, he produced a rare artifact resembling a dragon scale, which emitted a faint golden ward, tenuously resisting the increasingly formidable repulsion emanating from the Ancient Demon Hall.

"The entity that divulged the existence of the Erosion Realm Secret Ceremony to us... their intentions were surely not merely benevolent assistance..."

Ao Qin’s gaze flickered with suspicion, "Perhaps they harbored ulterior motives, their ultimate target being the Ancient Demon Hall itself."

He had deliberately risked remaining within this perilous place to observe if any anomalies would manifest, or if any individual or demonic entity would seize the ensuing chaos to purloin the ultimate prize.

...

Thus, Ao Qin, relying on the protective aura of the rare treasure, remained concealed within the confines of the Ancient Demon Hall.

A span of six months elapsed with quietude.

At this juncture, the repelling forces of the Ancient Demon Hall had magnified exponentially, achieving a magnitude far exceeding that of the initial stages.

The golden shield, conjured by the dragon-scale artifact, began to pulse erratically, emitting an unbearable, high-pitched "crackling" sound.

Ao Qin’s countenance grew increasingly severe, beads of perspiration forming on his brow.

"Could it be... I was mistaken? Truly no one else is present?"

After enduring the escalating pressure for several additional days, the dragon-scale treasure was now adorned with an extensive network of fissures, teetering on the precipice of complete annihilation.

Ao Qin, his reserves depleted, could no longer maintain his vigil.

"Forget it, perhaps my suspicions were indeed unfounded."

With a sigh of resignation, Ao Qin chose not to linger further. Transforming into a dazzling golden brilliance, he braved the immense, crushing pressure and arduously made his way towards the exit, soon vanishing from view.

Approximately half a month subsequent to Ao Qin’s departure.

Within the central sanctum of the Ancient Demon Hall, hovering above the desolate remnants of the altar where the Erosion Realm Secret Ceremony once stood, the spatial fabric shimmered subtly as an escaping light silently descended.

The oppressive darkness receded, unveiling a deathly pale and exceedingly sinister countenance—it was the Hehuan Elder Demon himself.

Remarkably, his spiritual aura had plummeted to merely the Mid-Stage Nascent Soul level.

"Not bad, truly not bad. These cultivators of yours, along with that Demon Race from the lower realm, possess a certain caliber," the Hehuan Elder Demon mused.

Gazing at the fissures fracturing the void, a peculiar smile played upon his lips.

....

When the triumphant news of Yun Weifeng and his companions' successful endeavors reached Xu Ping's ears, a wave of relief washed over him.

Despite a nagging intuition that the operation had unfolded with a touch too much ease, the ultimate outcome was undeniably positive.

Furthermore, the seal encasing the Ancient Demon Hall had indeed been progressively reinforced, becoming increasingly ensconced within the fabric of the void.

For the immediate future, at the very least, no unforeseen calamities were anticipated.

"Perhaps I've truly been overthinking things," Xu Ping murmured to himself.

He let out a soft sigh before returning his focus to his daily cultivation. The Ten Thousand Woods Evergreen Scripture was nearing the pinnacle of its mastery.

Upon achieving a breakthrough in his cultivation, his spiritual mana was destined for a qualitative transformation.

Time flowed by like water, and a tranquil four years slipped into the past.

With the complete disappearance of the Ancient Demon Hall, the outer seas finally settled back into a state of profound peace.

All major factions were diligently assessing the gains and losses incurred during the recent demonic catastrophe.

Within a secluded underground dwelling on Blood Bone Island, Xu Ping's demeanor turned solemn, his aura radiating a deep and immeasurable power.

Resting before him on a jade table lay a sheet of dark golden talisman paper, accompanied by a dish of meticulously ground Spiritual Ink.

Xu Ping grasped a jade talisman pen, its tip delicately immersed in the Spiritual Ink.

The pen moved with the grace of a dragon or a dancing snake, causing intricate runes to materialize on their own. With every stroke, Spiritual Qi spontaneously converged, bathing the talisman paper in a radiant glow, subtly hinting at the interweaving visions of spectral blue ice crystals and malevolent black Evil Qi.