When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 38

Yun Zhuoran believes the man in the black robe is bluffing, just like him. Without hesitation, he channels his spiritual power into a golden bow, aiming to strike first. The opponent reacts quickly, slashing through the air. A shadowy sword wrapped in thick black magic collides with Yun Zhuoran’s blazing golden arrow, creating an explosion that illuminates the dark sky.

The black-robed man’s cultivation is on par with Yun Zhuoran’s. As the fight unfolds, Yun Zhuoran adapts to the intensity of the battle, compensating for his lack of experience and gradually gaining the upper hand. Soon, he is able to suppress the opponent’s sword techniques.

It is then that Yun Zhuoran begins to believe the black-robed man’s earlier claim. His magic sword resembles Ji Ruo’s, likely from the same school, though visibly far superior to Ji Ruo’s unpolished skills.

The gap between the peak of the Nascent Soul stage and someone just on the verge of the Integration stage is like a chasm. Before long, the black-robed man begins to lose ground.

By now, Cheng Yu and the others have fled far away. Yun Zhuoran, uninterested in prolonging the fight, allows his golden bow to dissolve into fiery spiritual energy. The energy coils around him like a golden dragon, making his white robe appear even more dazzling.

It is clear to Yun Zhuoran that continuing the fight would be meaningless, especially since his opponent is slightly weaker. He assumes the black-robed man will understand this, but to his surprise, the magic sword continues attacking on its own, even after its wielder has stopped.

In haste, Yun Zhuoran forms a seal with his hands, casting a Golden Light Spell to block the demonic sword.

The black-robed man staggers back half a meter and stares at Yun Zhuoran in astonishment. “The Golden Light Spell? Are you from the Tianqing Sect?”

Yun Zhuoran smirks inwardly, unconcerned about redirecting animosity toward the Tianqing Sect as long as the suspicion doesn’t fall on him.

When Yun Peiran was younger, he once demonstrated the Golden Light Spell in front of him. Yun Zhuoran mastered it after just one observation. Yun Peiran commented that all disciples of the Tianqing Sect know the Golden Light Spell—it’s the most basic technique. Yun Zhuoran knowing it is nothing special, and using it to show off would only invite ridicule.

In truth, it is indeed the most basic Golden Light Spell, and all Tianqing Sect disciples know it. But no one can learn it after just one glance. The difference between the effects of the spell when used by someone at the Nascent Soul stage near Integration and an ordinary Buddhist cultivator is worlds apart!

The black-robed man, unfazed by Yun Zhuoran’s silence, observes him with interest. “Not many in the Tianqing Sect possess such strength. Are you the disciple of Tongye?”

“No,” Yun Zhuoran replies flatly. “Tongye is bald.”

The black-robed man quickly shakes his head and lowers his gaze to Yun Zhuoran’s long, flowing black hair, which drapes elegantly over his robe. His figure is graceful, almost ethereal, like an immortal. The more obscured Yun Zhuoran’s face remains, the more curious the black-robed man becomes.

He chuckles softly, his voice hoarse, tinged with loneliness and cold detachment.

“You must be a righteous cultivator. When encountering a demonic cultivator, shouldn’t you fight to the death?” The black-robed man raises his sword and points it at Yun Zhuoran. “Shall we continue?”

Yun Zhuoran ignores the provocation and simply asks, “Where is the Mirage Dragon?”

From the beginning, Yun Zhuoran intends to capture someone to interrogate about the mirage dragon’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, his opponent’s strength is nearly equal to his own, making capture difficult. Now that he poses the question, he knows the black-robed man will not answer truthfully.

As expected, the black-robed man shakes his head. “I don’t know. Are you looking for the mirage dragon too? Who are you?”

If the mirage dragon hasn’t been found, why has the young master ordered his subordinates to deal with captured righteous cultivators and urgently relocate the demon cultivators? Clearly, the black-robed man is hiding something.

Anticipating this, Yun Zhuoran turns to leave.

“Wait!” the black-robed man calls out. “You think you can just walk away?”

Yun Zhuoran doesn’t want to waste any more time and is about to leave when he suddenly retreats, clutching his Heart Demon tightly. A sword aura grazes past his ear, leaving a thin line of blood on the delicate, jade-like skin beneath his eyes.

The black-robed man chuckles softly, his wrist turning as his sharp magic sword boomerangs back, aiming straight for Yun Zhuoran’s chest. Yun Zhuoran raises his hand, catching the blade mid-strike. The spiritual power in his palm neutralizes the dark energy, and the blood mark on his cheek vanishes instantly.

“You can’t just walk away,” the black-robed man says with a sly smile.

Yun Zhuoran’s voice turns icy. “Do you want to die?”

The black-robed man’s eyes, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Ji Ruo’s, burn with pure fighting intent. “Stop wasting time,” he says.

Yun Zhuoran closes his eyes momentarily, a fiery swirl of golden-red spiritual power igniting around him. The energy surges into his palm, repelling the magic sword with a thunderous crack. The black-robed man stumbles back half a step, his grip on the sword faltering. When their gazes meet again, Yun Zhuoran’s cold eyes are sharper, carrying a distinct murderous intent.

With a thought, Yun Zhuoran’s spiritual power transforms into a burning blade. It radiates the overwhelming might of a Half-Step Integration cultivator, cutting through the air with a chilling wind.

As the blade closes in, the black-robed man does something completely unexpected. He sheaths his high-grade magic sword and raises his bare hands to face the attack.

Yun Zhuoran’s eyes widen in shock. Facing such a strike without a weapon— is he courting death?

Sure enough, the blade, infused with 90% of Yun Zhuoran’s strength, pierces straight through the black-robed man’s heart. Blood spurts from his mouth as his body falters mid-air before collapsing onto the edge of a cliff.

For a moment, Yun Zhuoran stands still, stunned. But he quickly turns away, his expression cold. This isn’t his concern.

He has barely taken a few steps when a sudden chill sweeps over him from behind. Reacting instantly, he raises his hand and catches the blade of the magic sword with precision. Lifting his gaze, he is met with a pair of shining eyes.

It is the black-robed man. Blood trails from the corner of his mouth, but his dark magic aura has intensified.

Yun Zhuoran frowns, his mind racing. Before he can speak, the man grins, bloodied but defiant. “Don’t leave yet. Let’s keep going!”

Realizing something is amiss, Yun Zhuoran readies himself as the black-robed man lunges at him again. The magic sword is faster, more relentless than before, forcing Yun Zhuoran to defend himself. Even when he deals a serious injury for the second time, the black-robed man climbs back to his feet, seemingly unfazed by pain.

Yun Zhuoran’s chest tightens with realization.

The Heart Demon exclaims, “Every time he gets beaten, he grows stronger!”

Yun Zhuoran can hardly believe it. He has assumed the black-robed man’s resilience comes from thinking Yun Zhuoran won’t kill him or that his recovery speed is simply extraordinary. But now, it is clear: this man is deliberately using him to train and grow stronger.

The realization leaves Yun Zhuoran speechless.

The black-robed man, bloodied and battered, approaches him again, wearing a twisted grin that practically begs for another strike.

“Come on, hit me again!” he taunts.

Yun Zhuoran’s lips press into a tight line. He doesn’t move.

The Heart Demon seethes. “Shameless! Brother, let me eat him!”

Yun Zhuoran suppresses it with a raised hand. “No rush.” His voice is calm, but he is inwardly annoyed, trying to deduce what kind of twisted cultivation method the man is practicing. Whatever it is, it is utterly repulsive.

This man is beyond hateful.

The black-robed man laughs heartily. “Don’t just stand there. Come and hit me!”

Yun Zhuoran: “…”

Under the same dark night sky, deep within the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest…

A man in tattered black robes moves through the stone forest. His eyes are an intense, piercing blood-red, demonic patterns coil around his pale neck, and his entire being exudes a chilling, malevolent aura, like a vengeful ghost crawling out of the Nine Hells.

Trailing behind him is a black dragon, its oppressive presence matching his sinister aura.

If Yun Zhuoran were here, he would instantly recognize the man. This is Gu Shenshu—the very person he is searching for.

Gu Shenshu emerges from the stone forest, his overwhelming demonic aura radiating as he steps onto a towering cliff, hundreds of feet high. He tilts his head slightly, his dark hair falling over his pale cheeks and partially obscuring his striking face. His blood-red eyes gaze downward—

Below lies a mirror-like lake, reflecting the dark, overcast sky above.

After a moment of silence, Gu Shenshu raises his hand and waves.

A blood-red sword materializes in the air, hovering ominously.

As if in response, the surface of the dim lake glimmers faintly. A light golden hue tinged with blood shimmers across the water, as though mirroring the sword’s murderous intent.

Meanwhile, Yun Zhuoran wrestles with disbelief. He refuses to accept the idea that someone can grow stronger simply by being beaten. Such a technique can’t possibly exist.

And yet, every encounter with the black-robed man proves otherwise. No matter how grievously injured he is, the man rises again, each time stronger than before. His cultivation has already surpassed the visible limit, and Yun Zhuoran can sense that if they fight a few more rounds, this man might even rival his own cultivation.

The facts are undeniable, forcing Yun Zhuoran to reconsider.

When the black-robed man rises once more, bloodied yet smiling, and approaches him with that same persistent grin, Yun Zhuoran takes a deep breath. Suppressing the urge to strike, he asks, “What’s your name?”

The black-robed man wipes the blood from his face with a casual hand. His blood-streaked lips curve into a faint smile. “Ji Wuwang, nephew of the Demon Palace Lord. And you?”

No wonder others call him the Young Master.

Yun Zhuoran remains expressionless. “Tong Ye.”

Ji Wuwang chuckles. “Pretending to be a Buddhist Son, huh? Do you have a grudge against him?”

It’s clear he doesn’t get along with the people from Tianqing Sect.

Yun Zhuoran doesn’t respond. He isn’t interested in this pointless exchange or wasting any more spiritual energy. His priority is to escape Ji Wuwang’s entanglement as quickly as possible.

As these thoughts race through his mind, Yun Zhuoran raises his hand to make a gesture.

Ji Wuwang’s eyes light up with excitement, eagerly awaiting his next move.

But before anything can happen, the ground beneath them begins to tremble violently. A surge of majestic spiritual energy erupts from deep underground, causing both men to stagger briefly before steadying themselves. The earthquake persists, and the spiritual energy that follows is overwhelmingly abundant, spreading across the canyon and far beyond.

Both Yun Zhuoran and Ji Wuwang are stunned. They can sense the shift in spiritual energy from the sky above.

Looking up, they see a golden light flash across the barrier that spans the entire night sky.

Then, with a deafening bang, the barrier shatters!

This is the very barrier that the righteous immortals created to encircle the outer perimeter of the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest. It serves as a protective training ground, keeping people outside from wandering in and preventing high-level monsters from escaping.

But now that it has broken, the implications are dire: the monsters deep within the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest can roam freely, and outsiders can enter at will.

As Yun Zhuoran processes this, an immense pressure descends from the sky. Even he feels its weight. His gaze snaps upward, where blood-red light swiftly swallows the dark night sky. The speed of its spread is alarming, and within moments, it has engulfed the entire heavens.

“This is a new barrier!” Ji Wuwang turns to Yun Zhuoran, his face pale with shock. “Who broke your barrier and sealed off the entire Ten Thousand Beasts Forest?”

This situation is too strange for either of them to continue fighting.

Ji Wuwang, without waiting for Yun Zhuoran’s answer, seems to realize something. A glimmer of understanding flashes in his eyes, and he abruptly leaps into the canyon to search for his men.

“It’s better if he leaves,” Yun Zhuoran thinks. Chasing after Ji Wuwang now would only invite more trouble.

The spiritual energy fluctuations caused by the barrier’s change begin to ripple across the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest, awakening both cultivators and monsters alike. Roars of beasts echo from all directions, louder and more distinct than before, reverberating through the forest. The dense demonic energy grows heavier, and spiritual energy surges just as intensely. If this continues, more monsters will undoubtedly awaken.

This is an ominous sign.

Yun Zhuoran stands motionless, observing his surroundings.

Unlike Ji Wuwang, Yun Zhuoran’s higher cultivation level, having reached the Integration stage, allows his consciousness to perceive far more. He can faintly discern the source of the sudden outpouring of spiritual energy.

It takes him some time, but he finally pinpoints the direction.

Without hesitation, he uses the Shrinking Earth into an Inch spell and speeds toward the source. The person capable of altering the barrier surrounding the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest under the watchful eyes of Penglai Xian and others can’t be an ordinary individual. It’s highly likely this is Gu Shenshu, who has slipped into the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest. After all, he is the first person under the Heavenly Dao.

When the barrier seals the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest, Shen Lingshu and others, hundreds of miles away, are still waiting for the seniors who have entered to retrieve Ji Ruo. Meanwhile, other cultivators are either searching for mission targets or training in seclusion. None of them can anticipate that the barrier—meticulously maintained by the righteous sects for nearly a thousand years—will break one day, trapping everyone inside the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest.

Even those outside the forest, like Qin Zheng and his group who stand near the barrier’s edge, are left deeply worried and unsettled.

At the same time, Penglai Immortal, who entered the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest two days earlier to retrieve Ji Ruo, also senses the anomaly. Leaving Master Jue Fa and the others behind, he suddenly darts off in a particular direction, compelled by a grave sense of urgency.

From that moment on, the sky over the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest darkens and never brightens again.

Four hours later, Yun Zhuoran finally reaches the source of the spiritual energy eruption. It is a damp demon forest shrouded in thick black mist, and at its center stands an immense, towering tree.

Even though it should be noon, the sky remains pitch black.

Yun Zhuoran marvels at the power of the barrier, realizing it has reached a realm that can truly blot out the sun.

As he steps deeper into the forest, humid air fills his lungs, carrying an abundance of spiritual energy that makes him feel inexplicably calm and refreshed. But his wariness only grows. This is a forest saturated with demonic energy, and yet, he hasn’t encountered a single demon beast.

Earlier, on his way here, Yun Zhuoran saw many demon beasts driven mad by the spiritual energy surge. He is certain that this explosion of energy will inevitably trigger a beast tide.

The intoxicating freshness of the air seems to affect even the Heart Demon residing in his palm. The small creature, usually so restless, grows dazed, rolling around in a drunken stupor. Helpless, Yun Zhuoran tucks the little thing into his lapel.

After walking for nearly an hour, he finally arrives at the giant tree in the forest’s heart.

It is a Mulberry Tree, immense and ancient, its presence radiating an indescribable majesty.

Beneath the tree, a colossal creature rests in a clear pool. It has the body of a beast and the head of a dragon, its jade-white scales shimmering like pearls as they reflect the tranquil light of the water.

Yun Zhuoran halts, staring in awe. A single name rises in his mind—

Qilin.