Chapter 64: The Final Battle!

Gu Yiling's figure retreated slowly amidst the dust, every step seemingly burdened with heavy thoughts, his face a complex mosaic of astonishment and reluctance.

Suddenly, he threw his arms wide open, palms facing the sky, a look of profound shock on his face. Staring fixedly at the two figures ahead, he laughed, "Ha! Behold!" Extending his hands and opening his palms slowly, he chanted the incantation under his breath: "Death Spell: Spirit Bird."

As his low and hurried incantation echoed, the air seemed stirred by an invisible force, and the surrounding currents began to twist and rotate.

A faint glow gradually appeared in the center of Gu Yiling's palms, growing brighter and brighter until it became dazzlingly brilliant.

Suddenly, crisp bird calls burst forth from within the light, followed by countless colorful spirit birds that seemed born out of nothingness, soaring high into the clouds with flapping wings. These spirit birds varied in form, some with wings burning like fire...

As Gu Yiling's low and mysterious incantation echoed across the desolate battlefield, the sky seemed imbued with life, and the previously oppressive atmosphere was torn apart by a newborn force. The radiance blooming from his palms grew increasingly brilliant, like the dawn breaking through the dark, every ray containing an indescribable vitality and destructive power.

Abruptly, a dazzling brilliance erupted from the center of that light, immediately followed by a series of crisp, melodious bird cries tinged with a solemn killing intent.

Countless spirit birds gushed forth from Gu Yiling's palms. The moment they beat their wings, multicolored radiances flickered across their feathers like the most splendid meteor shower in the firmament, piercing the vast sky and heading straight toward North Pavilion Peak.

After a moment, the edge of the sky was gently peeled back by an invisible hand, revealing a few dim shafts of daylight at the margin of the dark clouds.

Immediately afterward, four shadowy figures cut silently through the firmament like hunting falcons of the dark night. Their speed was so swift that they left behind only blurred afterimages, and wherever they passed, even the tree leaves trembled and rustled, sounding like nature whispering to these sudden visitors.

Accompanied by a subtle yet hurried sound of breaking wind, the four figures in black suddenly appeared before Gu Yiling. They wore tight night-walker garments and specialized masks on their faces, exposing only cold eyes, resembling four ruthless gods of death.

Once they stood still, an asphyxiating oppressive aura permeated around them, as if even the air had frozen under this force.

Gu Yiling's laughter echoed across the barren battlefield, carrying a manic and untamed quality that seemed capable of shaking heaven and earth.

Yufan abruptly stepped forward, his body exploding into motion like a hunting leopard. His hands formed seals rapidly, and brilliant blue-purple light burst from his fingertips, containing a heart-palpitating destructive power.

Upon seeing this, the four figures in black did not shift their positions, but the aura around them instantly condensed into substance, forming four black vortices that circled their bodies like four nether wings, shielding them from external interference. Their gazes grew even colder, seemingly capable of piercing the deepest fears within the human heart.

Yufan thrust his palms forward fiercely, transforming the blue-purple light into a surging wave carrying the momentum of roaring thunder, heading straight toward the four individuals. Wherever the light passed, the air seemed torn apart, emitting a piercing roar.

Yufan's roar reverberated across the empty battlefield, his eyes bloodshot as if breathing fire. The blue-purple radiance pushed forth by his palms was like an enraged ocean tempest carrying cataclysmic momentum; yet, under a casual wave from those four individuals, it was gently smoothed away by an invisible hand. The light dissipated, the air returned to tranquility, leaving only the lingering echo of the roar and the astonished gazes of the onlookers.

The four figures moved in unison, as if through a thousand rehearsals. Their wrists traced elegant arcs in the air like dancers in an ancient ritual, yet they harbored a heart-shaking power.

Yufan's attack appeared utterly futile before them. Where the light dissipated, the air twisted slightly, as though space itself was resisting the intrusion of this power.

With eyes blazing like torches, Yufan swept his gaze across the surroundings, calculating a path of escape.

He took a deep breath, the true Qi within his body surging once more, and a faint blue-purple halo wrapped around him—the hallmark of his going all out. He abruptly pulled Jian Yichen; although the latter was severely injured, he managed to steady himself. Their figures intertwined like two bolts of lightning, dashing fiercely toward Longwu Mountain.

His footwork was flexible and unpredictable, every step seeming to strike a subtle resonance with the ground. His speed was so great that it nearly transcended the limits of the naked eye.

"Step back! Four elders, my thanks to you for coming to my rescue."

Gu Yiling's voice rang out in the quiet air, carrying an unquestionable majesty.

He turned slowly and bowed deeply to the four figures in black. The eyes behind the masks flickered with complex emotions—gratitude, respect, and a trace of imperceptible loneliness.

The figures in black shifted slightly. Without the need for words between them, they tacitly stepped back a few paces and stood in a row. The black aura around them diminished somewhat with their movements, but the oppressive weight remained heart-palpitating.

They lowered their heads slightly, acknowledging Gu Yiling's gratitude. Then, their forms blurred once more, melting silently into the surrounding darkness like ghosts of the night, leaving behind only a faint cold breeze that swept away the very last trace of their presence.

Gu Yiling stood in place, his gaze as sharp as a falcon's, piercing the night and locking tightly onto the direction where Yufan and Jian Yichen had fled.

The night wind fluttered his robes, and the undissipated light still circled him like a solitary lamp in the dark night—both lonely and formidable.

A cold smile hooked at the corner of his lips, containing both disdain for the escape of his enemies and regret for failing to finish them off with his own hands. "You run fast," he murmured. Though soft, the voice carried unquestionable killing intent, as though even the molecules in the air froze at that moment.

Gu Yiling slowly raised his right hand, his palm slightly open as if gathering invisible power.

The surrounding air currents subtly twisted once again, responding to his summons, and the faint sound of distant thunder echoed through the atmosphere.

Suddenly, he clenched his fist sharply, and an invisible wave of energy spread outward from him as the center. Where it passed, vegetation shuddered, and even distant mountain rocks seemed to feel the oppression of this force, emitting a faint buzzing hum.

Gu Yiling's palm clenched tighter, the air seemed to congeal at that instant, and the surrounding tranquility was shattered by an invisible force.

As his arm suddenly sank, a hard-to-capture undercurrent erupted from his palm—silent yet surging, like a tide in the dark night. That power was neither purely spiritual fluctuation nor simple physical impact, but an intertwining of both, forming an indescribable and terrifying pressure.

"Bang!" A soft sound, subtle yet soul-shaking, as if time itself trembled because of it.

In that fraction of a second, the surrounding grass seemed gently stroked by an invisible hand, lowering their proud heads one after another, their tips trembling with an indescribable awe.

Where this power passed, even the tiny dust particles floating in the air seemed rearranged, forming fleeting, bizarre patterns that quickly vanished into nothingness.