After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 23

Only the howling wind in her ears responded to her.

Lily of the Valley tried with all her might to open her eyes, but it was in vain.

Black mist rolled in wave after wave, swirling with the wind and sand, blurring her vision.

Jiang Mianhao, who had been flung away by her spiritual power, was in an even worse state.

A sharp pain shot through her wrist, and the hand that had been tightly held was now forced apart.

The black mist enveloped Jiang Mianhao completely, and blood dripped steadily from the wound on her wrist, which had been slashed by Lily of the Valley’s wooden sword.

“Lan—” Jiang Mianhao suppressed the pain and tried to speak, but the black mist surged into her nostrils, instantly spreading to her internal organs.

It choked her so badly she couldn’t even cough, her throat tightening until she could no longer make a sound.

The two, blinded by the mist, could neither find each other nor see what lay ahead, helplessly spinning in place like fools.

The black mist landed on one foot, spun in a circle, and flapped its massive wings.

The mist emanated from its long, flapping wings. As it landed on one foot, its true form was revealed; a human-bodied, bird-faced Ao Bird.

Watching the two flower and plant spirits, already disoriented and unable to tell direction, the Ao Bird’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Newly transformed little plants,” the Ao Bird demon’s long, upturned beak was as hard as an ox horn. “Show me your true forms.”

With these words, the Ao Bird extended its long beak and struck the two dizzy figures hard on their heads.

Jiang Mianhao heard fragmented bird calls but couldn’t understand their meaning. Then, something hard slammed into her head.

In an instant, the world spun around her. Before she could even register the pain, her vision cleared, and she had shrunk into a pot of grass.

Jiang Mianhao shook her grass leaves, stunned by the monster before her. Turning her head, she noticed Lily of the Valley was right beside her, also struck back into her original form.

“Lily of the Valley!” Jiang Mianhao rustled her leaves. “Are you okay?”

Lily of the Valley recovered from the throbbing pain in her head and, without even glancing at the monster, immediately replied, “I’m fine. How about you?”

Seeing the two plants’ leaves intertwining, completely ignoring its presence, the Ao Bird sneered disdainfully.

“Such close bonds? Then I’ll grant you the honor of dying together!”

Its black wings flapped as the bird-man soared into the air, aiming straight for the flower and grass huddled together, diving down directly.

Jiang Mianhao shut her eyes in terror, the spot where the sharp beak had struck her head throbbing intensely.

Lily of the Valley leaned most of her body over to shield her, but in the Ao Bird’s eyes, it was a futile effort.

The alley fell silent, save for the howling wind stirred by the Ao Bird’s wings as it ascended.

Jiang Mianhao’s heart raced at its fastest pace, as if it were about to leap out of her mouth at any moment.

Newly transformed plant spirits had no spiritual power; in the face of the formidable, demonized Ao Bird, they were but a drop in the ocean. Unable to even evade, they could only wait helplessly for death.

But the Ao Bird, having soared into the air, did not descend. Even the sound of its flapping wings vanished.

Trembling, Jiang Mianhao cautiously opened one eye. The black mist had dissipated, and the alley had returned to its original state.

“Lan—”

As soon as Jiang Mianhao spoke, the next moment, her leaves felt a heavy weight, and she was lifted into the air, roots and all.

“What are you looking at?” The eagle’s long, hard talons gripped the base of the grass. “Tell me, if I smash you into that flower, which of you will rot first?”

A sharp pain shot through her roots, and the howling wind made her leaves rustle loudly.

Jiang Mianhao trembled all over with fear. As the eagle soared higher, she drifted farther and farther from the ground.

The once-spacious alley now seemed narrow, and the anxiously waving leaves of the lily of the valley shrank into a tiny green dot.

“Aim—” With a flick of its talon, the eagle sent the pitiful little grass plummeting downward.

Ignoring her own pain, the lily of the valley spread her leaves wide, ready to catch the grass hurtling toward her, terrified that the slightest misalignment would cause her to miss.

The eagle had flown just below the clouds, watching the grass it had thrown down.

Fluttering leaves, roots severed by the wind, and spiritual energy leaking out from fear. This torment of a lowly grass spirit brought the eagle endless pleasure.

The only disappointment was that this grass didn’t scream.

Too terrified even to feel fear, Jiang Mianhao watched helplessly as the ground rushed toward her, while the lily of the valley braced herself to catch her.

Jiang Mianhao waved her leaves, trying to signal the lily of the valley to move aside.

But the speed of her freefall was too fast. Just before impact, Jiang Mianhao closed her eyes.

She waited quietly for death to come.

Yet the expected pain never arrived. Instead, Jiang Mianhao landed softly in a protective barrier.

The familiar spiritual energy shield calmed her, and she snapped her eyes open.

A white figure flashed by.

The eagle, which had been hovering proudly beneath the clouds, froze mid-air. Before it could react, it was struck hard by a beam of white light.

“Green Wine!” Jiang Mianhao couldn’t see who had arrived clearly, but that didn’t stop her from waving her leaves inside the barrier and shouting anxiously, “Be careful!”

The eagle never expected these two grasses to have someone come to their rescue. By the time it saw the white flash and instinctively tried to summon its mist, it was already too late.

Its first thought was fast.

The speed of that white light was unimaginably quick, beyond what the naked eye could follow.

The next moment brought pain. Excruciating agony as if its organs had been pierced, spreading throughout its body. Icy blades seemed to stab through every nerve.

A chilling voice calmly uttered an incantation: “Shatter!”

Before the eagle could even identify its attacker, it flapped its wings in agony as a golden binding rope tightly coiled around it.

Completely immobilized, the eagle plummeted headfirst, just as it had often made lowly grass spirits fall during its torment.

Watching the beast fall, Jiang Mianhao shrank back in fear inside the barrier. Before panic could fully set in, the spiritual energy shield automatically shifted to the side.

The barrier enveloping the lily of the valley bumped into hers. Seeing that the lily of the valley was unharmed, though still dazed, Jiang Mianhao let out a long sigh of relief.

The alley offered no obstacles. The eagle’s head smashed directly onto the bluestone pavement from high above, instantly splattering brains and blood across the ground.

The two spiritual energy orbs, carrying the grass and the flower, rolled away with a soft rumble, untouched by the gore.

As the barrier floated, Jiang Mianhao finally got a clear look at the white flash from earlier.

Sitting loftily in the pavilion was an immortal lord, leisurely warming a teacup. Tender green tea leaves lay within the white porcelain.

The charcoal in the brazier glowed faintly red, and the water in the pot boiled.

The Immortal Lord slightly raised his hand, and a stream of scalding water poured in, reviving the withered tender buds in the cup.

Steam rose in swirling mists. Seated upright before the desk, the Immortal Lord rested his slender fingers lightly on the table, his gaze fixed on the spiritual barrier before him.

Jiang Mian stared, utterly captivated. She had initially thought the flash of white light earlier was Ye Qingge herself, but she never expected her to be sitting so leisurely in the loft.

This meant that in the face of such a ferocious monster, Ye Qingge hadn’t even revealed her true form.

The delicate fragrance of tea wafted through the air, blurring the features of the person before her into a misty, poetic landscape painting.

Still reeling from the life-and-death peril, Jiang Mian stared in a daze, only to hear the Immortal Lord’s calm voice the next moment.

“You’re injured.”

Ye Qingge’s expression remained serene, her eyes unblinkingly fixed on the withered leaves of the potted plant before her.

The plant she had painstakingly nurtured was now damaged once again.