Chapter 72: Array Dance Across the Firmament

Using the Six Ding Six Jia Formation as long-range firepower, they dealt a heavy blow to the monstrous beast horde before it entered the atmospheric stratosphere.

Under the command of the Sword Control Art, guided by the music of the Guangling Melody, tens of thousands of silver swords pierced through the bodies of the first wave of beasts, instantly annihilating tens of thousands of Gu Diao. This long-range assault struck terror into the enemy ranks, and those behind, seeing the situation turn dire, immediately scattered.

A gigantic whirlwind of silver swords spun and slashed, the spaces between each becoming ever wider as large numbers of Gu Diao, Qiongqi, and Tiger Jiao beasts began to break through into the stratosphere.

Master Jueguang waved his hand, and a massive celestial crane flew over. Leaping onto its back, he called out, “Disciples of the Academy of Arts and Dao, follow me to battle!”

The disciples drew their swords, some mounting cranes, some using Prayer Lanterns as stepping stones to shuttle back and forth, while others simply rode the lanterns as if upon clouds with their celestial arts.

At the front, the conical golden light formation clashed head-on with the beast horde.

Within this formation, the spirit race disciples fought valiantly, transforming into their true forms—white horses, black tigers, spotted leopards—beastly shapes flickering in and out of the fray. Meanwhile, those adept in fire arts turned the Prayer Lanterns into cannons. Setting them alight with fire magic, they kicked the lanterns into clusters of beasts, unleashing violent explosions that shrouded the battlefield in chaos and darkness.

Yet the enemy's sheer numbers could not be denied. As more and more monstrous beasts entered the stratosphere, some began slipping through the golden formation. At the rear, Master Fire Thunder and Master Yuran’s formations also encountered skirmishes.

Master Jueguang fought in the lead, slaying nearly a thousand beasts by his own rough count. At that moment, a fierce wind roared in his ears—he saw the Young Lord Supreme leading a squad from the flank, cleaving the advancing beast horde in two like a sword slicing the enemy formation in half.

“Little Lord Supreme! Charging so far ahead, you’ll be surrounded! Be careful!”

“Watch me! Commence Plan A!” the Young Lord Supreme shouted, tossing out an enormous length of white silk. Several disciples behind him chanted in unison. The folded silk unfurled and expanded rapidly, layer upon layer, until it became a colossal canvas as tall as a skyscraper.

“How do you like my calligraphy?” he exclaimed.

During preparations, he had pondered what words to inscribe on this canvas to rouse morale. To his own side, he would rally righteous spirits; to the enemy, he would deliver a blow with words of intimidation.

After much deliberation, he wrote four bold characters facing the Academy: “Defend the Dao, Destroy Evil.”

On the side facing the beast horde, another four words: “Curse Your Ancestors!”

Four disciples flew to the corners of the canvas, binding four massive Prayer Lanterns to each. The canvas, now like a giant sack, swept down upon the beast horde in midair.

The Young Lord Supreme formed a seal and shouted, “Curse your ancestors! By the power of this art, behold the Painter Immortal’s Spell!”

Under the might of this spell, the canvas became a black hole devouring all beasts in its path, sealing them as painted images within. From afar, it looked as if a giant eraser was carving a white path through a page drenched in black pencil. In a flash, the canvas was covered with tens of thousands of beast illustrations.

Master Jueguang laughed, “Little Lord, your mind is quick indeed! With this art, Masters Fire Thunder and Yuran need not act for now.”

The canvas swept back and forth through the beast horde, drawing all within into its endless depths. The Young Lord Supreme and hundreds of disciples continued chanting and forming seals behind it.

Soon, tens of thousands of beasts were sealed inside. Suddenly, black smoke billowed on the horizon. Ming You appeared in the sky, coldly watching the colossal canvas.

“Mere parlor tricks.”

With a flick of her left sleeve, the black ribbon trailing from her whirled forth, extending rapidly and lashing downward from the heights.

“Beware the black ribbon!” Master Jueguang shouted to the Young Lord Supreme.

The ribbon descended like a heavenly whip, cracking against the canvas with a thunderous roar. The force blasted the Young Lord Supreme and his disciples thousands of meters away, slashing a wound across his chest. He cared little for himself; his disciples, struck by the shockwave, tumbled towards the clouds below.

“Damn it! The canvas!”

He paled—if they’d been flung so far through the canvas by the ribbon, this artifact, crafted with a spell of dimensional reduction, would surely not hold.

As expected, the gigantic canvas began to tear from the top, as if sliced by an invisible blade. The beasts that had been sealed within surged out like a breached dam.

The Young Lord Supreme, clutching his chest like a student who’d failed his exam, sighed, “All that effort for nothing. My heart is weary.”

Seeing the frontlines falter, Master Jueguang hastily ordered his disciples to hold the line. He called to the Young Lord Supreme, “Ming You’s magic is profound. It seems your Plan A has failed. Is there a Plan B?”

“The original plan was Plan B! Master Jueguang, you take the lead now,” the Young Lord Supreme replied, tongue out.

“You rascal, that’s as good as having no backup plan!”

Just then, they realized Ming You was not finished. The black ribbon, even longer now, whipped toward another target with another explosive crack, shattering the gigantic whirlwind sword formation. The array splintered like porcelain struck by bullets, vanishing in a shower of silver fragments.

As it broke, the seven strings of the ancient zither at the core of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation snapped, sending Jin Fanyin, the musician, flying from the center. Over a dozen members nearby were flung to the ground by unseen force. Blood streamed from Jin Fanyin’s chest and face, cut by the broken strings. Ignoring the pain, he shouted hoarsely to the disciples outside the formation, “Strings! The strings are broken! Bring new ones, quickly!”

“Mortal formations are always troublesome. In the end, we must rely on the immortals,” muttered Xuan Wen, a spirit race disciple at the perimeter, who had already prepared a set of silver replacement strings. Quick as lightning, he flew into the array, slinging Jin Fanyin’s arm over his shoulder and leaping to the instrument stand. Together, they swiftly replaced the broken strings.

“Hurry, hurry! It’s dangerous up there!” Jin Fanyin called, blood dripping onto the stand and instrument.

“Don’t shout! Watch your blood—if it stains the formation, it’ll disrupt the spell! Save your strength,” Xuan Wen scolded, wiping away the blood and deftly removing the snapped strings.

Above, Ming You looked down and said, “Your powers are a millennium behind. I had no wish to take my fellow disciples’ lives. Why not simply yield?”

Before she finished, Master Jueguang, riding his crane, shot up from below, shouting, “You child! Heaven cherishes life—how can we stand idly by? Do not underestimate the Academy of Arts and Dao!”

Ming You did not reply. She casually pressed her palm toward him. The crane shrieked, and both it and Master Jueguang were sent flying.

Disciples nearby tried to catch him, but the force was too great—they were repelled and injured by the impact. Master Jueguang, struck by Ming You, fell like an arrow into the conical golden light formation, bouncing disciples aside as he arrowed straight toward the Academy. Though conscious, he struggled to control his descent, blaming himself for underestimating Ming You’s strength. She had hidden her abilities so deeply that no one at the academy had ever suspected.

“Master!”

The Young Lord Supreme, supporting the formation below, realized something was wrong. He threw out the swords Ganjiang and Moye, stepping on one while holding the other, flying rapidly toward Master Jueguang. As he approached, he fixed his gaze, recited a sword-control spell, and flung Ganjiang in an attempt to block the descent. But upon contact, the sword was deflected, hurtling back toward the Young Lord Supreme.

He dodged right as the blade grazed his left cheek, leaving a cut.

He tried to recall Ganjiang with his sword art while racing forward on Moye. Just as he reached Master Jueguang, he leaped to grab his arm, only to realize the force of the fall was far beyond what he’d anticipated. Master Jueguang slipped from his grasp. He snatched at the robe’s sleeve, but it tore away, unable to arrest the descent.

“If he falls like this, Master Jueguang will land directly at the core of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation!”

Suddenly alarmed, the Young Lord Supreme shouted toward Jin Fanyin, who was repairing the zither strings, “Jin Fanyin, get out of the way!”

Jin Fanyin looked up and saw Master Jueguang plummeting toward him—a missile falling at lethal speed, enough to destroy half the formation if it hit. But where could he hide?

In despair, Jin Fanyin hugged the half-repaired zither tightly, determined to protect it with his own body. As long as the zither remained, the Guangling Melody would survive. He must defend this crucial force for the academy.

Suddenly, a golden beam shot across from the right, cushioning Master Jueguang’s back with a gentle divine force that slowed his fall. Gradually, his speed lessened until he could control his movement, flipping nimbly onto a Prayer Lantern less than a hundred yards from the formation.

Jin Fanyin broke out in a cold sweat. Looking right, he saw waves rise from the distant lake, lifting an orange formation onto the water’s surface. The golden light was the defensive barrier conjured by this formation. Upon it stood sixty-four graceful girls in T-shirts and plaid skirts—his beloved idol group.

At the center stood their captain, leading the Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Formation—

Sun Xiaoming.

“At such a historic moment, we must take a selfie!” Sun Xiaoming raised her phone, flashed a victorious V-sign, and struck her signature pose with a haughty tilt of her chin. “Yo! We’re late. The beloved ladies were all busy touching up their makeup! The 'HOPE' members have gone to such lengths to look good—being ignored would be unacceptable!”

She tossed her phone aside, raised her hand, and shouted skyward, “Chang’e, you wrinkled, single, old hag! If you dare, come at us—your big sisters are here and ready!”