Just as that hand was three feet away from Luo Qi, a cold glint flashed in her eyes, her killing intent no longer concealed.
A faint white light streaked past—the man only felt a blur before his eyes, followed by a chill that flooded his entire body.
Then, a searing pain belatedly shot through his wrist.
His entire palm was gone, the severed end gushing blood, laced with wisps of demonic qi like black mist.
Kong Can’s gaze turned cold at the sight.
“Quite the thorny rose, aren’t we?” He gathered demonic power in his palm and said to his subordinate, “Wei Ji, don’t kill her. Keep her alive.”
The man called Wei Ji no longer held back this time. He gave his arm a slight flex, and a new palm visibly grew from the severed wrist.
Luo Qi didn’t take these two demons seriously at all.
She grabbed Xiao Bai by the scruff and tossed him behind her, condensed qi in her palm, casually pulled a branch from nearby, and transformed it into a sword. The sword split from one into ten, reversed its tip, and shot toward Kong Can and Wei Ji at lightning speed.
The commotion was considerable—demonic power clashing with sword strikes, many blows accidentally hitting the barrier.
The barrier’s walls were caught in the crossfire, emitting dark light rings that pulsed faintly and strongly by turns.
Not far away, Yan Huaichen, who had been sitting with his eyes closed in meditation, suddenly opened them.
Ting Bai, Yi Ze, and the others guarding beside him all turned to look in the direction of the first protective barrier.
Their expressions gradually grew grave.
“Brother Chen,” Ting Bai said, “could someone be trying to force their way through the barrier?”
Yan Huaichen stared at that direction for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line, saying nothing.
Ting Bai and the others couldn’t read his thoughts for the moment.
They stood still in place, waiting for his orders.
Two seconds later, Yan Huaichen abruptly rose to his feet, summoned the Nether Tiger, and his voice came out stiff and cold.
“Let’s go take a look.”
By the time Yan Huaichen and his group arrived, Kong Can and Wei Ji had already fallen into a disadvantage.
Their skills, while not top-tier among the Demon Race, were rarely matched.
Yet now, the two of them combined couldn’t even overcome this weak woman with no spiritual qi whatsoever?
The sword Luo Qi had casually conjured earlier had now multiplied into eighty-one separate blades.
These swords surrounded Kong Can and Wei Ji in a tight encirclement.
The two of them hadn’t even managed to touch a single corner of Luo Qi’s robes from start to finish.
When they fought hard, the swords’ power grew stronger.
When they weakened and tried evasive tactics, the dizzying array of swords would follow them in a dance.
No longer swarming all at once, they kept the two men trapped in the center, occasionally striking with a killing blow.
Like a cat toying with mice.
Kong Can was furious. Demonic cultivators were born with crimson pupils.
Now, driven by rage, his eyes were so red they looked bloodshot, a truly chilling sight.
He kept deflecting the chaotic sword attacks while rapidly devising a countermeasure in his mind.
Seeing that Luo Qi couldn’t break through the protective barrier for the moment, he set his sights on the barrier itself.
He planned to use the barrier’s power to kill Luo Qi.
But before he could even vanish back to the other side of the barrier—
Suddenly, a fierce, slaughterous aura swept over.
Kong Can’s entire body went rigid, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
This aura was too familiar. This feeling of death closing in—he had only ever experienced it from one person.
By now, Kong Can and Wei Ji had no mind left for Luo Qi.
They gritted their teeth and turned to look behind them.
When they saw several black-robed youths riding fierce, towering Nether Tigers charging toward them, Kong Can’s pupils abruptly dilated.
His legs seemed no longer under his command—his knees gave way, and he dropped straight to the ground.
He opened his mouth, the words “Young Master” circling at the corners of his lips, but before they could escape, he suddenly stared wide-eyed in Yan Huaichen’s direction.
The next moment, blood burst forth.
Kong Can and Wei Ji were already separated from their heads.
Thick blood splattered across the ground. Luo Qi took a step back to avoid the blood staining her clothes.
After dealing with Kong Can and Wei Ji, Yan Huaichen finally turned his gaze to Luo Qi.
She met his eyes.
An inexplicable tremor ran through her heart.
She couldn’t describe the look in Yan Huaichen’s eyes at this moment.
His pupils were pitch-black and deep, like two bottomless whirlpools, capable of sucking a person in and tearing them apart without mercy.
Yan Huaichen’s features were undeniably handsome, like a banished immortal or a deity, and his bearing was nothing short of extraordinary.
Yet every time he ripped out a spirit demon core with his bare hands, he always gave Luo Qi the illusion of a ten-day Asura.
And at this very moment, as Yan Huaichen killed these two demonic cultivators, that indescribable feeling surged up once more.
Luo Qi instinctively went on guard, alert and wary.
Yan Huaichen’s gaze settled on Luo Qi and didn’t move.
No one could tell what those deep, mist-shrouded emotions in his eyes truly were.
Even Ting Bai, who always considered himself fairly familiar with his young master, couldn’t read his intentions right now.
For a moment, the group stood in silence, the atmosphere turning strange and heavy.
But the next moment, Yan Huaichen suddenly curved his lips.
His long, narrow, deep-set eyes seemed to narrow slightly.
Then, he swung off the Nether Tiger.
And walked toward Luo Qi at a leisurely pace.
When the distance between them was three meters, he stopped.
His gaze drifted to the Demon Race’s protective barrier.
He asked with a meaningful tone: “Miss Luo, have you taken the wrong path again?”
Luo Qi furrowed her brow slightly, clearly not expecting to run into Yan Huaichen and his group here again.
Admittedly, Luo Qi didn’t want to have any more entanglements with Yan Huaichen, but in the current situation, she couldn’t afford to avoid him.
Her gaze flickered to the Protective Barrier, which had become unusually docile ever since Yan Huaichen’s arrival.
Her long lashes fluttered twice, and her rosy lips unconsciously pressed together.
Suppressing the complicated emotions stirring within her, Luo Qi concealed every trace of feeling from her face.
Raising her eyes to meet Yan Huaichen’s gaze, she cleared her throat and said, “No, I want to go to the Demon Race.”
Hearing this, Yan Huaichen raised an eyebrow.
He looked Luo Qi up and down.
His expression was inscrutable.
After a long moment—just as Luo Qi felt her hairs standing on end from his scrutiny—he finally spoke in a slow, unhurried tone:
“I recall telling Miss Luo before that the Demon Race’s dark den of wolves and tigers is no place for her.”
Luo Qi didn’t notice the subtle undertone in his voice.
She was currently thinking of what excuse she could use to enter the Demon Race’s territory smoothly.
Yan Huaichen’s gaze seemed casual, his slender, well-defined fingers idly adjusting his wrist guard.
His eyelids lifted lightly as he swept a glance at the protective barrier ahead.
Then, as if asking offhandedly, he said:
“The Demon Race’s territory isn’t exactly peaceful. What made Miss Luo think of going there?”
Luo Qi snapped back to attention, casually pulling Xiao Bai into her arms, and said:
“I heard recently that a Purple Mist Lotus has bloomed on Chilie Mountain in the Demon Race. I’ve been fascinated by heavenly treasures and earthly rarities since I was young, so I thought I’d come see it for myself.”
“Chilie Mountain, is it?” Yan Huaichen pondered for a moment, seeming to have some recollection. That barren mountain, perpetually shrouded in Demonic Qi and devoid of any vegetation, had actually sprouted a Purple Mist Lotus—a Spirit Plant so rare it was scarce even in the Cultivation Realm.