Ascension of The Unholy Immortal-Chapter 370: The Shadow Master

In the desolate expanse of the Devil Realm’s outer ring, a lone figure tore through the ashen void, his form wreathed in a shroud of flickering darkness that spat embers like dying stars. The barren planets below blurred into a smudge of obsidian and rust—a celestial graveyard whipping past as he hurtled forward, His speed defied reason—edges of his silhouette blurring as he neared the transcendent velocity of a Void Transformation Realm cultivator.

Yet even this impossible speed wasn’t enough. Behind him, twin shadows materialized in his wake, their outlines warping reality itself.

"Yang Wu, there’s no escape for you today."

"Senior Brother Li is correct. Just surrender, and we’ll make it quick," one of the figures sneered.

Yang Wu, glancing at the two black-robed figures in pursuit, couldn’t suppress a loud curse.

"What the hell? The Devil Realm’s crawling with soul-eaters and cursed relics, Shouldn’t you from Heaven End Pavilion have better things to do?"

"Tch, who said we’re toying around?" Zi Er shot back with icy tone "We’re here for your master, Liang Yifei."

"Looking for my master?" Yang Wu’s expression darkened. To think they’d been chasing him just to find out where his master was? How the heck could he know?

The old man hadn’t contacted him in ages; he doubted Liang Yifei even remembered him.

"If you want to find my master, go search for him yourselves! Why are you wasting your time chasing after me?" Yang Wu retorted, his voice laced with frustration. He increased his speed by burning his blood essence, hoping to shake off his pursuers.

Zi Er and Li Song exchanged glances, a flicker of amusement in their eyes. "Little brat, do you think you can outrun us?"

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Li Song called out, his voice echoing through the dark void. "Your cultivation is barely at the late Dao Integration stage, while we are already at the half step Void Transformation Realm. You’re just delaying the inevitable."

Yang Wu’s heart sank. He knew they were right. The gap between their cultivation levels was simply too vast. He gritted his teeth, desperation clawing at him. He had to find a way to escape, or at least buy himself some time.

As if sensing his desperation, a glint of mischief sparked in Zi Er’s eyes. "Tell you what, little brat," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "If you can land a single blow on either of us, we’ll let you go."

Li Song frowned, shooting her a questioning look. Zi Er simply shrugged, a playful smirk on her lips. "What? It’s not like he can actually do it."

Yang Wu’s eyes narrowed. It was a ridiculous offer, a taunt disguised as a challenge. But a glimmer of hope ignited within him. A single blow? He might be outmatched, but he wasn’t out of options. He had learned from the best, after all. A mischievous glint mirrored Zi Er’s in his own eyes. "You’re serious?" he asked, feigning uncertainty.

Zi Er laughed. "Of course! Do you think we joke about such matters?"

"Alright then," Yang Wu said as he stopped on a distance from them, calm facade settling over his features.

He knew this was a gamble, a desperate one at that. But if he could create an opening, even for a fleeting moment, it might be all he needed. He just had to make them believe he actually thought he could win. "Don’t blame me if you can’t handle a little love tap."

Li Song snorted, shaking his head. "This brat is delusional. Let’s just end this charade."

"Patience, brother," Zi Er chided, her eyes fixed on Yang Wu. "Let’s see what the little one has up his sleeve."

She spread her arms wide, an invitation and a challenge in one gesture.

"Come on then, little brat. Show us what you’ve got, only a single blow."

Yang Wu’s eyes narrowed, the flickering darkness around him sharpening into jagged tendrils. The Devil Realm’s ashen void seemed to pulse in time with his racing heartbeat. Zi Er’s offer hung in the air—a sliver of hope wrapped in mockery. He knew it was a trap, a game to humiliate him before the kill. But desperation had claws, and he let them dig deep.

"A single blow?" he hissed, voice dripping with venom. "You’ll regret those words, ’Senior Sister’."

Before the last syllable faded, he exploded into motion. Three shadow clones burst from his body, their forms rippling like ink spilled across the void.

The clones split, two lunging at Li Song while the third veered toward Zi Er.

Li Song snarled, taking out a yellow twin Crushblades from his space ring and slamming them into the barren void. The void shuddered and a roar erupted—seismic waves tore through the clones, their semi-corporeal forms dissolving into smoke. But Yang Wu was already gone.

A shadow flickered beneath Zi Er’s feet.

"Behind you!" Li Song barked.

Zi Er spun, and took out a black and violet fan slashing upward in a helix of violet light—Violet Tempest Waltz.

The cyclone swallowed the shadow… only for Yang Wu to materialize behind Li Song, twin blades gleaming with void-black energy.

Eclipse Fang Assault.

Li Song’s stone armor flared but the ethereal blades phased through it’s aiming for his spine. At the last heartbeat, Zi Er’s fan whipped a gust of wind, yanking Li Song sideways. The blades grazed his ribs, devouring spiritual energy and leaving charred furrows.

"Tch. Teamwork?" Yang Wu spat, blood trickling from his lips. The blood essence he’d burned earlier gnawed at his stamina.

Zi Er’s smirk widened. "You’re outmatched, little brat. Surrender."

Yang Wu’s gaze darted to the smeared shadow of a dead planet below as he muttered under his breath," Three uses left"

He vanished again.

"Left flank!" Li Song growled, His Crushblades already swinging.

But Yang Wu didn’t reappear. Instead, his voice echoed from all directions, clones flickering in and out of existence.

"You want my master?" The clones flickered like static—some laughing, others snarling, all bleeding darkness into the ashen expanse.

"Why chase a ghost when you’re about to become one?"