Chapter Fifteen: The Triplets’ Decision

The newly arrived angelic army surged onto the battlefield like starving tigers descending from the mountains, charging into the already scattered and utterly exhausted ambush force with overwhelming ferocity. It was as if a searing, razor-sharp blade was slicing through butter, cleaving the cultivators straight down the middle.

Gu Linglong was gripped by anxiety. They were already outmatched by the six-winged angel, and now, out of nowhere, a horde of angels had emerged from some unknown pit, snuffing out the last glimmers of hope with merciless finality.

Yuan Lin’s sacrifice sent a shock through everyone’s hearts. If the earlier deaths had been hard to bear, Yuan Lin’s passing was a direct spark that ignited a blaze of fury within them all.

In the immortal realm, there were certain unspoken rules. You could bully cultivators of the Nascent Soul stage, or spar with masters of the Great Ascension stage. If you felt particularly bold, you could even go looking for trouble with immortals, and no one would stop you.

But, but—no one ever dared to provoke a cultivator in the Tribulation Crossing stage.

This was a sacred taboo among cultivators.

A millennium of cultivation—at the Tribulation Crossing stage, a cultivator was at their most fragile. One misstep, one injury to their cultivation, and they were doomed when the tribulation struck.

By decree of the Immortal Emperor, unless a Tribulation Crossing cultivator had wronged you first, you were strictly forbidden to harm them in any way. In some regions, they were even afforded special treatment.

Thus, the Tribulation Crossing stage was a protective talisman in itself—a shield that guaranteed safety wherever you went.

Although everyone had braced themselves for the worst, Yuan Lin’s death truly incited their wrath.

The remaining dozens of cultivators, eyes bloodshot, transformed into wild beasts driven mad by grief. They threw themselves into the angelic ranks, unleashing their full arsenal of spells and flying swords.

Their reckless, self-destructive assault only plunged the already dire situation into deeper peril.

Those split from their comrades were left isolated, forced to fight alone, and were quickly torn apart by the overwhelming numbers of the angelic army, their nascent souls devoured.

Fortunately, most of the angels were merely four-winged, which left the cultivators with a sliver of fighting chance. Many managed to detonate their nascent souls before their bodies were destroyed, sparing themselves from being consumed.

No matter how hoarse Gu Linglong and Xiao Ying screamed from the sidelines, nothing could quell the madness that had overtaken the cultivators.

Watching the six-winged angel beside her grin with wicked delight, Gu Linglong gritted her teeth, raised her immortal sword, and charged forward.

To capture the king, first seize the leader. After a thousand years on Earth, Gu Linglong understood this simple truth.

At this moment, this half-baked immortal revealed her unyielding side, steeling herself for the possibility of detonating her own immortal soul. With her power as an immortal, even the six-winged angel would hardly escape unscathed.

A sorrowful smile flickered across Gu Linglong’s elegant lips.

Behind her, Xiao Ying clung to a superior-grade flying sword she’d stolen from Boss Li, standing frozen, mouth agape. She hesitated, unable to decide whether to advance or retreat, anxiety clawing at her heart.

Glancing back, she realized her boss had vanished without a trace.

“That heartless bastard! If I make it back alive, I’ll make sure to castrate you!” Xiao Ying’s delicate face twisted with rage.

Hidden behind a nearby hill, Li Chengzhu’s hand trembled, nearly releasing the Godslayer Arrow by accident.

“That damned woman, does she think I’m such a coward?” Li Chengzhu cursed under his breath, eyes never leaving the six-winged angel overhead. He had barely taken aim when Gu Linglong entered his line of sight.

“Damn it, always getting in the way!” He was already imagining plucking off those wings for a new set of fans, only for Gu Linglong to spoil his chance.

Still fuming, he crouched behind the hill, searching for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal strike to the six-winged angel.

Yuan Mu and Yuan Sen, despondent after their brother’s death, seemed oblivious to the advancing angelic army, lost in their grief.

Centuries of brotherhood—torn apart in a single moment.

It wasn’t until blood rained down from the sky, splattering their faces and hair, that they finally came to their senses. Raising their eyes, they saw the dazzling bursts of white light from their comrades’ self-destruction, and their lord, the city master who had saved their lives, gasping as she battled the six-winged angel.

“Do you regret following her here?” Yuan Mu, the eldest, finally spoke.

Yuan Sen caught a few drops of blood—whose, he could not tell—and clenched them in his palm, pressing them to his chest as though trying to hold onto the warmth of his second brother. He shook his head slowly. “No. And you?”

Yuan Mu managed a bleak smile. “Is there even a need to ask? Without Lady Gu, the three of us would have long since perished.”

Yuan Sen nodded, then sighed, looking at his elder brother. “It’s time to repay her.”

“Yes, it’s time,” Yuan Mu replied, taking a deep breath. “I just didn’t expect it would be so soon. I used to imagine that when all three of us became immortals, we would each share some of our immortal energy with her, so she could finally be a true immortal herself.”

Yuan Sen looked up in surprise, forcing a faint smile. “I thought the same.”

“Perhaps our second brother did, too,” Yuan Mu sighed again, his expression suddenly seeming much older.

“Brother, let me do it this time,” Yuan Sen said with resolve.

“No,” Yuan Mu rejected him flatly, asserting his authority as the eldest. “Your cultivation isn’t as deep as mine; your meridians can’t handle that much spiritual energy.”

“Brother, you’ve both cared for me for centuries—just let me do something for you this once,” Yuan Sen pleaded.

“Enough! The lady can’t hold out much longer.” Yuan Mu glanced at the chaotic battlefield. Of the hundred who had come, only about twenty were still struggling on, and things looked grim. “This time, I’ll do it. You must survive. As long as you find that one thing, there’s still hope for your cultivation.”

“Brother!” Yuan Sen still resisted.

Yuan Mu turned and gripped his shoulder tightly, raising his voice. “Third brother, this is no time for debate! If we don’t act now, everyone will perish. Do you want our second brother’s death to be in vain? Do you want anything to happen to Lady Gu? As your elder brother, I order you—now, hurry!”

Yuan Sen struggled for a moment, then finally nodded with determination. He drew a massive talisman from his ring.

Though Li Chengzhu overheard their conversation from not far away, he had no mind to pay them any heed. All he hoped was that Gu Linglong could escape the battlefield quickly so he could let fly his arrow—and, best of all, make it pierce the six-winged angel.

If he missed, so be it…

He could barely hold on any longer. He hadn’t expected that merely keeping the Godslayer Arrow steady without firing would consume so much spiritual power.

Damn it, what kind of immortal weapon is this?

Li Chengzhu’s eyes grew moist.