Chapter 108: The Burial of the Demonic Sound Skeletons

With that thought, Fan Fan and Zhang Yang lifted the sleeping Qin Xiaochuan, each carrying one of his arms, and headed toward the arena where the competition was underway. This guy felt incredibly heavy—he must have eaten something hefty, maybe even doubled in weight since before. Had he mutated? Or perhaps he hadn't relieved himself in a long time? He was unbearably heavy.

Back at the competition arena, besides the spectators in the stands, members of Sikong Lang’s team had also arrived. They weren’t here to cheer for Qin Xiaochuan’s team but to prepare for the upcoming semifinal match. After the match between Qin Xiaochuan’s team and the New World team ended, it would be their turn. So, besides Sikong Lang, Sikong Ming, and the effeminate long-haired man, a rarely seen mysterious team member clad in samurai armor appeared in the stands to observe the ongoing match.

“Is that really Jinghai?” The effeminate long-haired man of Sikong Lang’s team glanced doubtfully at the elderly Jinghai Master on the stage. “Her spiritual energy is so weak, it’s almost imperceptible. If it’s like this, that Death Spirit Sword fellow could easily kill her.”

“…”

“If that’s the case, the reason for her weakening must be tied to Qin Xiaochuan! If so, she will—die before the finals!”

Watching Jinghai Master on stage, Sikong Lang, usually expressionless, now revealed a sinister smile. Perhaps he harbored an irreconcilable grudge against Jinghai Master. The expression on his face was both malevolent and cruel, as if only by personally killing her could he release the resentment in his heart.

Yet, the scene on the arena stage shifted once more. Watching the Death Spirit Sword dancer swiftly wielding his long blade, Miss Xingmeng loudly narrated, “The Death Spirit Sword player swings his blade again—so fast that the blade’s shadow is barely visible! But… what is that sound? Ahhhhh!!!” As she spoke, a chilling, dreadful noise emanated from the Death Spirit Sword’s demonic blade. The rapidly spinning blade scraped the air, producing an unsettling, nauseating sound that seemed to chill the soul and split the mind with agonizing pain.

Hearing this hellish sound, Miss Xingmeng, who was commentating on stage, felt as if her head was about to explode. Her ears were filled with this sickening noise. Collapsing to the ground, she clutched her ears tightly and knelt in agony, screaming, “What is this?! This sound!! It’s unbearable! Ahhhh!!!”

Many spectators in the stands also reacted poorly to the sound. Numerous people clutched their heads, rolling in pain across the seats, their faces contorted in anguish. Some weaker demon-powered individuals even vomited beside the stands, evidently overwhelmed by the demonic blade’s sonic assault, their bodies reacting in distress.

“How is it, Jinghai? For those with weak demon power, just hearing the sound is unbearable. But for me, this is the sacred melody played by the Holy Orchestra—an enchanting requiem, hahaha!” The Death Spirit Sword said as he spun the long blade. Countless sinister winds howled from the compass-shaped pattern formed by the spinning blade, scattering outward. The temperature around the arena gradually dropped under the blade’s influence, and even shivering on the ground, Miss Xingmeng couldn’t help trembling uncontrollably.

As the blade rotated, a white, soul-like luminous membrane appeared on the compass pattern, filled with an overwhelming chorus of eerie, wailing malevolent spirits that made one’s hair stand on end. The sound was indescribably vile, the worst imaginable. Gazing toward Jinghai Master, an evil aura enveloped the Death Spirit Sword’s face. His once handsome, willow-leaf-shaped phoenix eyes now widened dramatically, as if possessed by a demonic spirit, glaring at Jinghai Master with ferocity. “How do you like that sound?”

With a flourish, the Death Spirit Sword swung the blade behind him and leapt forward, raising the spirit-covered demonic blade high above Jinghai Master’s head, bringing it down fiercely. “Die, you old relic!”

“Demonic Sound Skull Burial!”

The moment the blade struck the ground, a violent explosion erupted. The vengeful spirits enveloping the blade transformed into countless white skulls, scattering in all directions. A massive two-meter-deep pit formed on the arena floor. The strike’s force was immense—it had gouged a deep crater and completely obliterated Jinghai Master’s body, leaving no trace of her remains.

The vengeful spirits, now free, rampaged toward the spectators. Giant skull heads devoured the demons they encountered whole, bones and flesh swallowed without mercy. Many demons failed to flee in time, left trembling with blood-spewing severed halves of their bodies on stage. Terrified, nearby demons grabbed their heads and knelt on the ground, fearing these ravenous spirits would return to consume them. What kind of monster was this? Attacking the audience too? I’m your loyal fan, Death Spirit Sword, but you—you're utterly merciless!

Some of the wandering spirits, however, recklessly charged toward Bai Ying and Feiyan, presumably thinking these two small figures were easy prey. Bai Ying stood firm, casually snapping her rose whip, which shredded the colossal spirit into countless fragments that drifted away like petals. Feiyan struck the skull’s face with a fiery punch, the black flames incinerating it completely, leaving not a trace. The other spirits, apparently aware that these two were formidable, avoided them and stormed instead toward the audience.

Several spirits charged toward the VIP seats, headed straight for Mr. Yujing. Despite the spirits’ approach, Mr. Yujing remained unflustered, legs crossed leisurely, puffing on his cigarette as if still enjoying the performance on the arena stage.

Before the spirits could reach him, Sikong Lang stepped forward. A phantom image appeared before him, and the gaping-mouthed spirit dissipated silently in midair before it could approach Mr. Yujing. Sikong Lang’s strike was as swift as lightning; even nearby spectators, eyes wide, couldn’t discern how he moved. Just a few punches, and the incoming spirit exploded midair, transforming into a wisp of white smoke before vanishing. The spirit had the misfortune to provoke these two—its final fate was soul-shattering annihilation on the spot.

Glancing at the massive pit, the Death Spirit Sword was quite pleased, swinging the blade behind him. “Not a single corpse left—completely devoured. No wonder, encountering my vengeful spirit demonic blade means mental assault first. Once your mind breaks, there’s no chance to dodge—just become thin air, haha! Finally killed Jinghai! From now on, my fame in this human realm will soar. None can rival me, hahahahaha…”

But just as he reveled in his triumph, a voice he least wanted to hear echoed from behind: “You’ll have to hit me solidly first!”

Turning around, the Death Spirit Sword froze. The Jinghai Master, whom he had thought utterly destroyed, stood lightly behind him, composed and unscathed.

Seeing Jinghai Master calmly standing with hands behind her back, it became clear that at the moment of the attack, she had dodged the demonic blade with a speed even he couldn’t see. Not a scratch marred her body. This revelation darkened the Death Spirit Sword’s once triumphant face. “So all your previous speed was just toying with me?”

“Don’t say that,” Jinghai Master patted the dust off her robe and pointed at him. “I am an old woman now, forget many things. But thanks to you, I’ve recalled a hidden secret technique.”

“What!?” Surprised by the mention of a secret technique reserved for him, the Death Spirit Sword first froze, then burst into laughter. “You expect me to believe such nonsense? Hilarious! An old relic like you using these childish tricks to scare me—laughable! Hahaha!” Then, flipping his blade, he pointed at Jinghai Master. “You got lucky dodging once, so full of yourself? This time, I’ll hit you for sure!”

At that moment, kneeling on the arena floor, Miss Xingmeng, terrified that the Death Spirit Sword was about to launch the dreaded spirit attack again, leapt down from the stage with a startled cry. Clinging to the edge, she resumed her commentary. This young beauty was truly dedicated—despite the danger, she didn’t forget her duties. Admirable indeed.

“To all our viewers, the Death Spirit Sword player from the New World team is about to unleash a terrifying attack like last time! Although the masked player dodged the previous assault, it seems the Death Spirit Sword’s pride has been challenged. He’s preparing to use the same dreadful move again. Will the masked player evade once more? Let’s watch and see!”

Hearing this, the audience erupted into murmurs. The previous spirit attack had already swallowed at least a hundred spectators, leaving grotesque casualties without a trace of bones. If such an attack struck again, with so many in the stands, no one could be sure who would become the next victim. No one wanted to fall prey to such indiscriminate slaughter. This move was truly despicable—how could anyone use such a cruel attack?