My Disciples Are All Villains

Yu Shangrong stepped into the air. A gust of wind stirred up in front of him.

Bazir's eyes reddened. He shouted, "Invite the gods from the four corners!"

The remaining witchcraft cultivators tossed out four radiant circles.

"Oh, great shaman god, listen to my plea. Lend me your strength, and let the souls return! Do not linger at the four corners, for men 1,000-foot tall wait to recover your soul. Come back..."

The four radiant rings were so huge that they blotted out the sky. They swiftly flew toward Bazir.

Yu Shangrong moved swiftly, still as calm as ever. When he saw this, he knew Bazir was much more powerful than he had imagined.

Among the witchcraft cultivators, low-rank shamans could only cast basic spells to heal or chase someone away. They were equivalent to Brahman Sea realm cultivators. Mid-rank cultivators could master low-rank and mid-rank witchcraft Formations, witchcraft traps, curses, and control the will of others. High-rank witchcraft cultivators could lay grand Formations and hold back an entire army. Apart from these powers, grand shamans could also control the dead and invite deities into their bodies.

Bazir was clearly in the final category.

Yu Shangrong split into three.

Left, center, and right. His figures moved in a flurry. Then, he shot past the remaining witchcraft cultivators.

At the same time, the cold glints of swords glinted as the shamans slashed their necks. One by one, they plummeted from the sky into the 100,000-foot-deep abyss to their deaths. They sacrificed themselves, hoping to stop Yu Shangrong with their lives.

The remaining witchcraft cultivators rushed toward Yu Shangrong with their witchcraft radiant circles.

Yu Shangrong swung his sword forcefully.

Return, Enter Three Souls.

100 witchcraft cultivators fell.

At this very moment, a purple cloud appeared in the skies before purple rain began to fall.

Obviously, this was no ordinary rain. Every drop could cut through flesh, erode the soul, and crush the will.

Yu Shangrong was calm. He turned around to face young Yu Zhenghai before he launched a palm seal over.

The palm seal resembled a dragon's claw as it reached for young Yu Zhenghai. It grabbed him and pushed him away!

Bam!

Young Yu Zhenghai was now out of range of the purple rain as he was thrown toward Heaven's Moat.

"Senior brother!" Young Yu Zhenghai cried out hoarsely.

In the next second, the purple rain fell on Yu Shangrong like a waterfall.

From the outside, Yu Shangrong could no longer be seen. One could not be certain if he was dead or alive.

Young Yu Zhenghai sensed the energy under his feet was swiftly weakening. This meant the user's Primal Qi was also weakening. He grew nervous. His view was obscured by the heavy downpour of purple rain.

On the other hand, Bazir and the surviving witchcraft cultivators seemed confident that the Eight-leaf Yu Shangrong would be heavily wounded from the power of their predecessors even if he did not die. Having sacrificed these many people and paid such a high price... it was worth it.

The lump in Bazir's chest gradually disappeared. As long as he could kill Yu Shangrong, everything was worth it!

The purple rain fell for 15 minutes.

At this moment, young Yu Zhenghai felt the energy under his feet disappear, and he began to fall!

At seemingly the same time, countless energy swords shot out from the curtain of purple rain. The energy swords formed an umbrella that spun up, blocking the purple rain.

Yu Shangrong stood in the air, his hands free. His gaze was cold. All of sudden, he split into three figures and charged forward!

When Bazir saw this, chills ran up his spine.

When he saw this. "You're alive?!"

Yu Shangronrg looked as though he was casually strolling in the purple rain as he swung his sword around. Every stroke of his blade kept the purple rain at bay. This was one of his basic training in the rain. For Yu Shangrong, not a single drop of water could reach him even if he was standing under a waterfall. That was his sword path.

"Impossible..." Bazir's lips trembled. The look in his eyes and expressions changed drastically. Soon enough, Yu Shangrong's three figures were almost upon him.

The remaining five witchcraft cultivators shielded Bazir with their bodies.

Bazir waved his staff. "You don't have your sword. How are you going to kill me?!"

Yu Shangrong's expression was cold. A slender energy sword appeared between his index and middle fingers. "Who told you that you can't kill without a sword?"

His body was straight as he pushed his fingers forward! His energy sword skewered the five cultivators.

The five cultivators fell.

Yu Shangrong continued moving at lightning speed.

Bam!

The energy sword skirted around the staff and pierced Bazir's heart, leaving a gaping and bloody wound.

Yu Shangrong did not even look at Bazir. He turned around and dove toward young Yu Zhenghai.

Bazir looked at Yu Shangrong in disbelief as blood gushed out of his chest.

The purple rain quickly subsided.

The purple radiant circles were quickly fading away as well.

The area above the 100,000-foot-deep abyss fell silent again...

In an instant, Bazir was the only one left in the air. He struggled to maintain his altitude. His plan was perfect. It encompassed everything from Lou Lan to Rouli, to trap designs, and the ambush above the 100,000-foot-deep abyss. The only thing he miscalculated was Yu Shangrong's strength.

Bazir looked down. He saw Yu SHangrong diving down, trying to save the falling young man. Realization seemed to dawn on him as he released his power. He could hear the wind roaring by his ears as he plummeted down. He glared at Yu Shangrong as he shouted, "Even if I die, I'll see to it that you're trapped in the abyss!"

Yu Shangrong launched a palm seal down. Yet, he was falling more and more quickly.

This 100,000-foot-deep abyss seemed bottomless...

There had been cultivators who went on journeys to discover the secrets of the abyss. After generations of hard work and countless deaths, they arrived at a conclusion. Anyone who fell into the abyss would most likely die. The only ones who could survive were the ones who gave up halfway and returned to the surface.

They fell for what seemed like hours. The light from the sky above was dimming. The deathly stillness of their surroundings resembled a dark and quiet night.

Yu Shangrong launched another palm seal!

The dragon-claw-like palm seal reached out for the plummeting young Yu Zhenghai.

When he saw this, Bazir shouted, "Give it up!"

Yu Shangrong's eyes flashed with determination. He waved his hand.

Swoosh!

The palm seal grabbed hold of Yu Zhenghai and flew upward.

Bazir said, "Too late!"

Suddenly, Yu Shangrong felt a strong gravitational pull from the abyss. He wanted to push himself up with his Primal Qi, but it demanded too much from him. He could only maintain this balance.

As Yu Shangrong hovered in the dark void, he calmly said, "If he dies, Lou Lan will die as well!"

Bazir coughed violently as he struggled to maintain his altitude. His heart sank when he heard Yu Shangronrg's words. "Why?"

Bazir thought Yu Shanrong would blame the Roulians. If Yu Shangrong died in the Roulian's territory, the Evil Sky Pavilion should hold it against the Roulians.

"Live on." Yu Shangrong was doing his best to keep young Yu Zhenghai afloat, but he realized the young man had fainted during his speedy drop. He aimed a palm upward and struck Yu Zhenghai.

Yu Zhenghai broke free from the gravitational pull and rose to the surface.

Bazir could not understand Yu Shangrong's actions. "Why would you go to such lengths for a mortal?" No matter how he looked at it, it was not worth it to sacrifice an Eight-leaf cultivator for a mortal!

After all, when Yu Shangrong sent Yu Zhenghai upward with the palm seal, he would certainly sink further.

Yu Shangrong looked at Yu Zhenghai's disappearing figure that was rising up and said indifferently, "There are things that are worth it for no other reason than one thinking it's worth it."

Bazir seemed to be enlightened at this moment. He recalled the conflicts between Lou Lan and Great Yan in the past. He remembered the 70,000 corpses in the desert. He remembered the water of the Guluo River that was dyed red by blood. Conflicts never ended nor did war. His great predecessors once said that humans were the species that was most adept at infighting. What would they gain in the end?

"Perhaps, this is the reason why Great Yan is stronger than the 100,000 tribes..." Bazir unleashed the last of his purple power.

A purple marshmallow-like cloud that flew up and carried Yu Zhenghai... toward Heaven's Moat.

"Alas, I no longer have any strength to save you... My only hope is that you'd spare the lives of the people of Lou Lan." After he said this, Bazir closed his eyes. His body was soon engulfed in purple flames. This was the final act of honor carried out by a grand shaman to prevent his corpse from being controlled by other grand shamans. Self-combustion. The tongues of flames devoured him slowly... until he disintegrated into ashes in the 100,000-foot-deep abyss.