Blossoming Path-Chapter 190: Rooted Amidst the Storm

We were going to lose.

It didn’t matter that we outnumbered them. Didn’t matter that we had fought through the converts, taken down the one of the demonic cultivators, and pushed this far. None of it mattered when the Envoy hadn’t suffered a single wound.

Tianyi and Windy were the only ones keeping him at bay, their movements sharpened to the absolute limit. Their speed, their coordination, their sheer lethality... despite it all, none of it had landed a clean hit.

Not because the Envoy had an impenetrable defense. In fact, it was the opposite.

He had openings everywhere.

A too-wide step here. A seemingly mistimed parry there. The flicker of an exposed throat in the middle of a counter. Gaps that should not have existed in a battle at this level.

But Tianyi knew. Windy knew. And even I knew.

If they took those openings, they would die.

Because that was how they fought.

The demonic cultivators never cared for pain, never flinched from injury. Short of a strike to their neck, they did not defend. They traded. If it took a wound to land a wound, they took that exchange without hesitation.

The way his eyes followed them, measuring, waiting. The subtle twitch of his fingers when they tested his defenses. He was inviting them in.

It was why their battle remained a stalemate. And why, slowly, inevitably, they were being pushed back.

Tianyi’s movements remained sharp despite her wounded wing, her footwork compensating as she twisted and wove through the Envoy’s strikes. But even glancing blows left their mark—the tendrils of corrupting energy seeping into her limbs, accumulating with every second.

Windy struck with terrifying precision, his serpentine form weaving through attacks, his fangs flashing with venom. But he couldn’t commit.

Because if he lunged with everything he had—he would leave Tianyi exposed.

So he held back. Just a fraction. Just enough.

And that was all the Envoy needed.

BOOM!

His chain came crashing down from the sky, sending debris and snow flying to obscure their vision.

The battlefield was a ruin of bodies and exhaustion.

The last cultist was barely standing, his body swaying, his breathing ragged, but his eyes gleamed with the same mad devotion, unfettered by the losses on their side.

Five of our own lay on the ground, grievously injured, their moans and sharp gasps cutting through the air. They weren’t dead—but they would be soon without treatment.

And yet, even now, Jian Feng pushed himself up.

I had pulled him away, dragging him from the battle, but he shoved me off, eyes dark with unwavering focus. He stumbled slightly before steadying himself.

“I need to fight.”

“Jian Feng, you’re barely standing—”

His fingers curled around one of the fallen disciples’ swords, the metal slick with blood. He didn’t hesitate.

“I will fight,” he repeated. His tone left no room for argument. "Tend to the others, bring them further away from the battlefield."

I exhaled sharply, stepping back. “Don’t die.”

Jian Feng gave the smallest nod before he turned and rejoined the battle.

I had one Qi Restorative Elixir. One Essence Purifying Elixir. And one last Explosive Elixir. As I ran to pull the heavily-injured disciples away from battle, I realized that was all I had left.

And it wasn’t enough.

The Envoy wasn’t just strong, he was fresh. His robe barely had a single tear, his breathing unlabored. Meanwhile, we were injured, exhausted, and barely keeping up. Despite our renewed morale, it was an uphill battle.

"Guh!"

The last of the converts fell, knocked unconscious with the flat of the blade.

All seven converts were disabled or dead, and only two opponents remained.

But as the remaining disciples made a move to intervene and break the stalemate between the Envoy and my companions, the cultist with engraved palms dove forward with unrelenting zeal.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

He slapped his palms to the earth, the veins on his forearms pulsating and turning purple as the ground shifted under our feet. The disciples faltered, and I hastened my efforts to gather the injured before they sank into the earth and were buried alive.

I grabbed the nearest disciple, slinging his arm over my shoulder and dragging him out of range just as the earth buckled beneath us. The ground groaned, swallowing the corpses whole—pulling bodies, blood, and shattered weapons into its depths.

A choked gasp.

I turned.

One of the fallen converts—one that had his arms and legs broken to stop him from moving—lay at the edge of the sinking ground. His body was limp, barely conscious, but his face twisted in pure, instinctive terror as his head dipped beneath the surface.

"... Damn it."

I pulled the disciple just past the shifting terrain, just far enough to be safe.

Then, with a sharp breath, turned back.

The dirt had already reached the convert’s nose. His lips parted in a weak, rasping breath, his fingers twitching uselessly against the slush.

I hesitated. Just for a moment. Then I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out. He coughed, choking on a mixture of snow and soil, his body trembling violently. But he was alive. The ground stopped shifting as Jian Feng knocked the cultist into the ground.

I clenched my fists. There had to be something—anything—I could do.

I needed something to turn the tables.

But what?

And then, out of the corner of my eye—

I saw inside the cave.

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My stomach twisted.

Bloodsoul Blooms. Dozens of them.

They lined the cavern floor, growing in tangled knots of crimson and black. Their stems twisted unnaturally, their fleshy petals writhing like they were breathing. And at their center—

A decomposing corpse.

Another demonic cultivator, half-absorbed. Their flesh sagged, melting into the roots, their bones barely visible beneath the pulsing plant matter.

My thoughts raced, and I made the split-second call.

“Tianyi, Windy—buy me time!”

I dove into the cave.

The Envoy’s composure cracked.

For the first time, he showed real emotion. His cold detachment fractured into something resembling anger. His entire body tensed, and his head snapped toward me.

“NO!”

His voice was like a hammer on stone, reverberating through the battlefield. His foot dug into the earth—

And the entire group moved to stop him.

Jian Feng’s sword flashed. A Verdant Lotus disciple intercepted with a strike. Windy lunged.

But it was Tianyi who took center stage.

She blurred forward—faster, sharper, more vicious than before. I saw her face for a brief moment—flushed, almost feverish. And at her feet—

An empty vial of medicinal wine.

Her body contorted as she dodged the jagged bone sickle by a razor-thin margin. And she delivered a clean kick to the Envoy's chin, giving him pause.

I rushed toward the patch of blood-red plants, my palm already reaching outward.

Essence Extraction.

I willed it forward, but just like before, it resisted, blending the line between creature and plant. But compared to the sample I worked with, it was like comparing a cat to a tiger. There was no comparison for it's resistance.

My breath came in short gasps as I pulled. Harder than I ever had before.

"Come on, come on, come on—"

Anomaly Detected: Skill Evolution Beyond System Parameters

Essence Extraction - You can extract the spiritual essence of plants, beasts and metals for the creation of pills and elixirs. You can further extract essences into its different properties, and extract from multiple sources at the same time.

I didn’t have time to process it.

I lifted my hand, palm outstretched.

The Bloodsoul Blooms shuddered—then tore free with an audible snap.

Multiple essences at once.

Something I’d never done before.

Their energy coalesced into my palm, spiraling together, dark and writhing. I grit my teeth, forcing the essence apart and extracting even further for my needs.

I couldn’t afford all of it. I only needed two things. Its volatility and unbridled yin qi that gave it power.

I cast everything else aside. The dregs of the extraction fell to the cave floor—rotting the stone where they landed.

I didn’t hesitate.

Alchemical Nexus.

The formations formed into place, surrounding my palm. Without a cauldron or a pill furnace, I only had one option and tuned it for stability.

Heavenly Flame Mantra.

I let out a slow breath as the fire flickered across my hand, turning my palm into a heated surface for refinement.

I reached for the Explosive Elixir from my belt and combined it with the Bloodsoul Bloom essence. It was beyond theory. Beyond practice. My Refinement Simulation Technique flared to life, as the reaction should have torn my arm apart seized as I adjusted the stability at the exact moment of imbalance, using the natural resistance of the demonic plant's essence to bind the energy rather than suppress it.

It was about control. It was about knowing exactly when to let chaos reign and when to impose order.

It was about trusting the process.

Your Mind has reached Qi Initiation Stage - Rank 4

The reaction was immediate. My mind worked even faster than before.

A dark, unstable mass took shape—a dormant elixir that held the power of multiple Bloodsoul Blooms.

But it wasn’t ready.

It needed a trigger.

My hand trembled. I only had one thing left.

The Essence Purifying Elixir.

The antithesis of demonic qi.

Opposites. Life and death. Creation and destruction. Two forces that could never merge without consequences.

Unless I made them.

I broke the vial, letting the purifying essence mix with the corrupted yin energy.

It fought me. It screamed like the souls of the damned, of the many sacrificed in order to cultivate the Bloodsoul Bloom.

The instability surged, the opposing energies threatening to explode outward—

But I didn’t panic.

I let go of control. Of fear.

I let my qi sink into the reaction, not to force it into submission, but to guide it, my body no longer just a cultivator's vessel but a part of the alchemical process itself.

The black and red sphere in my palm writhed, threatening to tear itself apart. The Alchemical Nexus flickered, the symbols inscribed in the air fracturing under the strain.

It wouldn't hold. I had to move.

I was already running before the concoction fully stabilized, my legs burning with exhaustion. The unstable mass pulsed against my skin, scorching my palm. It wouldn’t last much longer—it would detonate the moment its balance collapsed.

And I could feel it instinctually. Seconds. That’s all I had.

I tore out of the cave, nearly tripping as my vision swam. The battlefield was chaos.

Disciples leaned on each other, barely standing, their robes drenched in sweat and blood.

Jian Feng stood amid them, sword planted in the earth, his breath ragged. Blood seeped through his fingers, pressed against a deep wound in his side. Tianyi still fought, her movements sharp—but her left wing was rotting, corruption eating away at the membrane. Windy coiled low, his tail twitching where demonic qi had begun to spread. And the Envoy continued fighting without pause, his robes torn in several places and blood trailing down his lip.

“EVERYONE, GET BACK!”

Tianyi was already moving. Windy, too. They felt the danger before I even said it.

The disciples hesitated; but only for a moment. Jian Feng caught my tone immediately.

“FALL BACK!” His voice cut through the battlefield like steel, and the disciples surged backward, dragging the wounded with them in the split-second they had.

The Envoy turned toward me, his sunken eyes locking onto the mass in my palm. Recognition flickered within his eyes.

And for the second time, I saw his composure crack.

I threw it.

Within moments of the sphere leaving my fingers, the fragile equilibrium shattered—

And the world erupted.

BOOOOOOOM!

A deafening explosion tore through the battlefield, shattering the ground, incinerating the last surviving cultist as he leapt forward in a desperate attempt to protect the Envoy. The wave of heat and pressure blasted outward. The shockwave threw me along with bodies, debris, and corpses alike into the air. The snow melted instantly in the ensuing blast.

I barely managed to brace before I was hurled backward, my body skidding into the cave.

Pain. Everywhere.

My ears rang. I gasped for breath, my body screaming in protest.

But we had won.

The battlefield lay in ruin.

The disciples, though battered, were alive. Some lay unmoving, but their breathing was still there. Blood-splattered, burned, but alive.

I forced my shaking arms beneath me, my body barely responding as I lifted my head.

The dust was clearing.

And in the center of the devastation...

The Envoy was still standing.

"... No."

I barely resisted the urge to fall to my knees then and there. He stood amid the carnage, his robes in tatters, his body burned beyond recognition. His left arm hung limply, barely attached to his shoulder. His sickle and chain were gone, destroyed in the blast.

His body should’ve collapsed.

But he was still upright.

His lips twisted into something inhuman.

"Who dares…"

His voice rumbled like a death knell.

"Who dares… to challenge God's Envoy?"

His eyes burned with something beyond hatred.

I saw it in him.

Desperation.

He wasn’t just angry about the fight. He was angry about the cave.

I had destroyed their accumulated Bloodsoul Blooms.

Something they couldn’t replace.

His head tilted back. The wounds across his face split further as he let out a guttural, animalistic roar.

"YOUR SIN SHALL NEVER BE CLEANSED, EVEN WITH YOUR DEATH!"

And then he moved. Straight for me.

I couldn’t react. My body was beyond its limit. My limbs refused to move, my vision blurred, my breath too shallow to even summon my qi to keep myself upright.

I had nothing left.

I watched as his remaining arm stretched toward me.

His fingers curled, reaching for my throat with a sickly black energy coating his hands.

Move.

My body didn’t respond.

Move, damn it!

With the last of my strength, I took a single step.

His fingers brushed past my hair as I stepped forward, just barely avoiding his grasp.

And in that instant—

ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!

I shifted my weight, locked my core, let his momentum carry him into my outstretched fist—

And redirected everything.

Rooted Banyan Stance has reached level 7.

His body lurched past me, his own strength twisting against him.

The technique wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t strong enough, nor were my reserves enough to complete the technique. My execution was flawed.

But it was enough.

CRACK!

Pain tore through me as my arm snapped under the force. The imperfect stance hadn’t negated everything. I felt bone shatter, my body nearly giving out.

But the Envoy wasn't done. Even now. His eyes flashed with the vitality of a man far from death.

"I AM THE EMISSARY OF GOD!"

I watched him surge with qi. I could only raise my head in despair as he moved to grab me.

Tianyi’s wings snapped forward, turning into honed blades. With extreme precision, her attack aimed at his neck. The Envoy caught it with his bare hands, cutting deep into his palm, before he crumpled the gossamer wings as though they were paper. Before he could follow up with another attack, Windy struck.

His entire body coiled, his fangs sinking deep into the Envoy’s other arm, twisting so violently that bone cracked. The sound was like splintering wood.

And then the disciples moved as one, shadows around my peripheral vision.

They drove their swords into him.

One. Two. Five.

Several blades pierced the Envoy's body.

Even then—he refused to fall.

His head lifted, mouth open, a final curse forming on his tongue.

"PRAISE THE—"

My eyes widened as his qi continued to surge, rising even further to the point I could feel it pressing down on me. His body expanded, the tell-tale sign of self-destruction.

If the cultists could give their lives to create such powerful explosions, the damage by the Envoy's would undoubtedly...

But Jian Feng was already moving. His sword flashed.

A single, clean cut.

The Envoy's head separated from his shoulders, pausing mid-phrase. It rolled carelessly to the ground.

Then his body collapsed, the rising energy dissipating like it was all a lie.

For a moment, no one moved.

The battlefield was silent.

The only sound was the wind howling through the ruined clearing, carrying the scent of burned flesh and scorched earth. The snow had long since melted from the heat of battle, leaving only blackened, frozen soil beneath us.

Jian Feng remained standing, his sword dripping with the Envoy’s blood, his breathing ragged. His grip on the hilt trembled, not from fear, but from sheer exhaustion.

Tianyi wavered, her wings twitching as she tried to fold them back. Her left wing, tattered and rotting at the edges, barely responded to her movements.

Windy was coiled low to the ground, his body rigid, his breathing slow and heavy. His tail, darkened by demonic corruption, twitched weakly.

The Verdant Lotus disciples stood where they were, chests heaving, robes stained red. Then, one of them took a shaky step forward. His sword slipped from his grip, landing in the dirt with a dull thud. His lips parted, his voice raw from battle.

“We’re alive,” he murmured, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

Then, louder.

“We’re alive!” His knees buckled, and he caught himself, his breath hitching as he sucked in a deep, trembling inhale. “We won.”

The words rippled through the battlefield like a slow wave.

Jian Feng finally let go of his sword. The blade clattered against the ground, his hands falling to his sides. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as his breath came out in a long, slow exhale.

A sigh of relief. A breath of survival.

I tried to step forward. My legs buckled instantly.

“—!” My vision swam as I stumbled, my body completely giving out. Before I could hit the ground, someone caught me.

Tianyi.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me. Her fingers trembled.

I barely had the strength to respond. My vision was blurring, my mind barely holding onto consciousness, but I forced myself to look up.

The Envoy’s body lay motionless.

His head, severed, lay several feet away, his frozen expression twisted into something between rage and disbelief. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping into the dirt, into the remains of the battlefield.

He was dead.

The last of them were gone.

And yet…

I swallowed, my throat dry.

The Envoy was dead. And yet… it didn’t feel like victory.

Just survival.

Tianyi must have sensed the shift in my thoughts because her fingers tightened slightly on my shoulders.

“Don’t think about it now,” she murmured. “Later.”

I exhaled slowly.

Later.

For now, we were alive.

For now, we had won.

That had to be enough.