Diexin exhales as her sword completes its final arc.

The last masked figure collapses at her feet, blood spraying across leaves already darkened by death.

Bodies lie everywhere, some sprawled alone, others tangled together where they fell mid-strike, faces frozen behind broken masks.

She does not allow herself rest.

Not even a full minute passes before she turns and runs.

Ren Yao’s trail is clear to her eyes: disturbed leaves, snapped twigs, faint smears of blood, and the lingering thread of hostile spiritual energy that refuses to disperse.

Diexin follows it relentlessly.

She cannot let Ren Yao escape.

Not now.

Not after finally finding her.

Not after everything.

As she moves, her breathing steadies, falling into a practised rhythm.

Within her dantian, the nine-eyed butterfly gu stirs, its wings unfolding in the void of her inner world.

It draws in spiritual energy from the surroundings in slow, greedy pulls, refining and feeding it back into her body.

Warmth spreads through her meridians.

Fatigue eases.

Her steps grow lighter.

Minutes later, voices reach her ears.

Metal clinks.

Orders snap.

Boots crunch against soil.

Diexin bursts through the trees and stops.

Imperial guards.

A full squad blocks the clearing ahead, armour bearing the unmistakable insignia of the crown.

Three bodies lie on the ground between them.

Two are still.

One groans faintly, blood soaking into his chest.

Several guards kneel beside the wounded man, pressing cloth against the injury, while others stand alert, weapons already half-raised.

Diexin’s gaze sharpens.

Ren Yao was here.

She attacked the imperial guards to buy herself time.

Diexin opens her mouth.

“Which direction did the, ”

The wounded guard suddenly lifts his head.

His eyes lock onto her.

A trembling finger rises.

“She… is…” he coughs, blood spilling from his lips, “the attacker.”

The words hit like a hammer.

Diexin freezes.

Steel scrapes from scabbards.

Spears lower.

Swords angle toward her throat.

“Wait,” Diexin says sharply. “I arrived just now. How could I be the attacker?”

An imperial guard steps forward, expression cold, voice formal.

“Come with us. After the investigation, it will become clear whether you are guilty.”

Diexin frowns.

This is spiralling fast.

“I will go with you,” she says evenly, “but not now.”

The guard advances, spear levelled at her chest.

“No. You are coming with us now.”

The others shift, forming a loose encirclement.

Diexin’s patience thins.

“Do you know who I am?” she snaps.

A ripple of hesitation spreads through the guards.

A few glance at her clothes, her bearing, the sword in her hand.

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But the man with the spear does not waver.

“We are the imperial guards,” he says.

“We answer only to the King. We do not care who you are.”

Diexin’s fingers tighten around her hilt.

“Go ahead,” the spear-bearing guard says to the others.

“Capture her.”

“Are you not afraid of the consequences?” Diexin says coldly.

“I am Cai Wenji, wife of Marquis Duan.”

The name lands heavily.

Several guards stiffen.

One of them turns to the man with the spear.

“Captain…”

The captain does not hesitate.

“Form formation,” he orders.

“Capture her.”

The guards hesitate, then move.

Discipline overrides doubt.

Diexin’s heart sinks.

If she attacks imperial guards, the consequences will be severe.

But if she allows herself to be bound now, Ren Yao will vanish.

She stands still as they complete the formation, blood qi circulating between them in practised channels.

The captain raises his spear.

“Are you surrendering?” he asks.

Diexin’s brow tightens.

“No.”

“Then we will beat you into submission.”

The captain moves first.

His spear thrusts forward, sharp and precise.

Diexin’s sword rises.

Metal clashes.

The impact sends a shock through the clearing.

The captain staggers back half a step, eyes flashing with surprise.

The guards surge in.

Butterfly-shaped wings of qi flare briefly behind Diexin’s back.

She slips between spearpoints, her movements impossibly fluid, sword flashing in controlled arcs.

She strikes wrists, shafts, armour joints, careful, measured, never lethal.

These are not assassins.

They are soldiers doing their duty.

Every one of them is a Blood Seal Realm warrior.

The captain himself stands at the ninth stage, power equivalent to the peak of the second tier of spiritual refining.

Diexin channels her qi.

“Qi Mist.”

Her wings fan outward.

A pale mist pours into the clearing, infused with diluted poison qi, designed not to kill, but to numb limbs and slow reactions.

“Careful!” the captain shouts.

“She’s using poison!”

The guards retreat instinctively, coughing, vision blurring, movements growing sluggish.

Diexin lowers her blade slightly.

“Let me go,” she says.

“I will report myself to the imperial guard station later.”

The captain’s eyes harden.

“Start the array.”

The guards exchange glances, fear and reluctance flickering across their faces.

Then they obey.

Blood qi surges.

Streams of power flow from the formation into the captain’s body.

His aura explodes outward, crushing the mist, forcing the poison back.

Inner Organ Refining Realm.

The same level as Diexin.

The captain grips his spear with both hands, veins bulging, eyes burning with resolve.

He charges.

The spear’s tip locks onto Diexin’s heart.

The ground cracks beneath his feet as he closes the distance in a single breath.

Spear and sword collide.

A thunderous shockwave erupts outward, snapping branches and blasting leaves into the air as both of them are thrown back several steps.

Diexin skids across the soil, boots carving shallow trenches, while the captain digs his spear into the ground to steady himself.

They do not pause.

The captain lunges again, spear thrusting in a straight, killing line.

Diexin twists aside, her sword scraping along the shaft, sparks flashing as she redirects the strike and counters with a slash aimed at his ribs.

He blocks.

She presses.

As steel clashes, Diexin forms a seal mid-motion.

“Poison Needles.”

Her butterfly wings flare and fan upward.

Above them, dozens, then hundreds, of fine needles condense from poison qi and spiritual energy, glimmering faintly before raining down toward the captain.

He roars.

Blood qi surges outward, hardening instantly into a thick, crimson armour that wraps around his body.

The needles strike, clattering and hissing as poison eats at the surface, but the armour holds.

Diexin retreats two steps and raises her blade again.

“The Butterfly Fan Blade.”

Her wings snap forward.

Wide arcs of compressed poison qi tear through the air, slicing toward the captain like invisible scythes.

His qi armour shudders under the impact, cracking the ground beneath his feet as he is forced backwards, boots ploughing furrows into the soil.

Diexin’s eyes flick past him.

The rest of the guards are kneeling.

Their bodies convulse.

Screams tear from their throats as wrinkles spread rapidly across their skin, hair turning white, backs hunching in seconds.

Her breath catches.

An array would not absorb vitality like this.

This is forbidden.

She looks back at the captain, horror and fury burning in her eyes.

“You are with Ren Yao.”

A sharp sound cuts through the air.

The injured guard who had accused her suddenly erupts upward, a whip snapping into his hand as his form twists and peels away.

Ren Yao.

Diexin turns instinctively, sword rising.

But Ren Yao does not attack her.

Instead, she strikes the guards.

The whip lashes out, piercing flesh, draining vitality as the captain inhales sharply.

Blood qi floods into him.

His aura surges.

Initial inner organ refining realm,

Intermediate,

Late stage.

It stabilises there, heavy and oppressive.

Diexin’s face hardens.

The guards collapse one by one, bodies shrivelling, ageing rapidly until they resemble dried husks.

The captain exhales slowly, power rolling off him in waves.

“Looks like,” he says quietly, “I cannot be a captain anymore.”

Ren Yao smiles coldly.

“Doesn’t matter,” she says.

“Right Envoy, order her to be killed.”

The captain charges.

The earth breaks apart beneath his steps as he barrels forward, spear glowing with blood qi.

Diexin retreats rapidly, casting spell after spell.

Vines tear free from the ground to entangle him.

He smashes through them.

Stone spikes erupt upward.

He shatters them.

Poison mist blooms, thick and choking.

His qi armour burns it away.

The terrain warps with every exchange, trees split, soil collapses, and shallow craters form where techniques collide.

Diexin’s breathing grows heavy.

This cannot continue.

She turns and runs.

The forest blurs as she pushes her wings to their limit, weaving between trees, vaulting fallen trunks, poison mist trailing behind her to slow pursuit.

Footsteps thunder behind.

Then another presence appears ahead.

A lone figure stumbles out from between the trees.

The Seventh Prince.

His eyes widen when he sees her, relief flashing across his face.

“Lady Diexin,” he says, breathless, “how are you?”

“Escape!” she shouts, not slowing.

She grabs his arm and drags him with her.

Confusion flashes across his face, then fear as he hears the pursuit.

They burst into a clearing and stop.

Prince Yuan’s guards.

Their armour bears his symbol, forming a loose perimeter around a dense bamboo forest.

The captain and Ren Yao step out behind them.

Ren Yao raises her voice calmly.

“Kill them,” she says, “and we will give you the method to heal Prince Yuan.”

The guards hesitate.

The Seventh Prince shouts, voice sharp with authority.

“The royal family has better methods. Go deal with them!”

Doubt ripples through the formation.

Diexin feels it.

She tightens her grip on the Seventh Prince’s arm.

Suddenly, the leading guard moves.

His sword flashes toward Diexin.

She was already prepared.

Steel meets steel.

The impact jolts her arm, but she pivots, dragging the Seventh Prince with her as she channels her qi and bursts forward.

They plunge into the bamboo forest.

Poison mist floods out behind them, thick and corrosive, swallowing the entrance and halting pursuit.

Bamboo rustles violently as they disappear into its depths.

Behind them, shouts erupt.

But Diexin does not look back.

She runs.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep