Lauren's eyes darkened as a mermaid, baring its teeth, lunged at her like a loach. She quickly sidestepped, her sword in both hands slashing directly at his neck.

  Though she didn't pierce his scales, she did manage to split his head and body at an odd angle, his ugly face tumbling onto his back, his neck broken.

  Lauren hurriedly told Westin, who was not far away, "Their scales are too tough to bite. Their weak spot is in their necks, so it's best to decapitate them with a blunt instrument."

  Upon hearing this, Westin hid in the woods, chanting a spell as he controlled the vines to strangle the Mermaids' necks until their bones were crushed.

  Seeing their companions dying one by one, unable to escape the dense forest, the Mermaids fled in panic.

  Seeing Westin take control of the battlefield outside, Lauren barked a few quick words, then turned and rushed toward the inner chamber to help Dante and Nash.

  That was where the real trouble was.

  Inside the stone cavern, the air was thick with enchantment. Two of the disciples were already struggling—faces pale, eyes glassy, their pupils pulsing like heartbeats.

  A sweet, intoxicating aroma wafted through the air, starkly contrasting the stench of blood and decay outside. Even the Pure Heart Pills couldn’t fully suppress it. Their minds spun, dizzy and unfocused.

  “Hurry up—tear them apart!”

  The white-haired Mermaid lay sprawled on the central altar, clutching her bleeding abdomen and howling orders.

  The two disciples’ breaths came ragged. Their hearts pounded—not with battle lust, but under a creeping illusion that made the Mermaids’ beauty irresistible. The elegant faces before them shimmered and multiplied, twisting like a mirage, slowly eroding their reason.

  One of the female Mermaids, seeing their hesitation, slithered closer. She ran a slender, glistening hand along Nash’s shoulder, leaned in, and bared her fangs at his throat.

  Just as her mouth opened to bite down—

  A flash of silver.

  A blade of frosted light pressed between her jaws.

  The Gintama Sword.

  Her fangs clamped down and shattered against the steel with a sickening crack.

  The Mermaid shrieked, throwing Nash aside as blood and broken teeth spilled from her mouth. She lunged at Lauren instead.

  Lauren didn’t even raise her sword to block. She pivoted, leapt upward, and brought her boot down hard.

  Her heel slammed into the Mermaid’s spine—

  Crack.

  The creature collapsed, writhing on the ground, her tail thrashing weakly.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Lauren barely glanced at her. With practiced precision, she slapped two Clear-Mind Talismans onto Nash and Dante’s foreheads. The sigils flared with a clean, white light—sharper and far stronger than any Pure Heart Pill.

  “What the hell just happened?” Nash muttered, still dazed.

  “Snap out of it,” Lauren ordered. “Don’t let them play with your head again.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of illusion had ensnared them, but she could tell one thing—the female Mermaids’ charms didn’t work on women. Her own mind was perfectly clear.

  Nash was still reeling, but Dante had already steadied himself. Without missing a beat, he waded back into the fight.

  That was the difference between the eldest brother and the rest.

  “A sword’s too light for these things,” Dante grunted, slinging his blade aside. “Need something heavier.”

  Lauren turned in time to see him heft a massive sledgehammer—and bring it down on a charging Mermaid. The impact flattened the creature instantly.

  Lauren didn’t have a hammer, but she had something better—Armor-Breaking Talismans.

  The so-called junk her master had dumped on her was like a treasure chest from the Flower Wife—filled with strange odds and ends. Most were low to mid-grade, rank one to three at best, but they didn’t drain much spiritual energy, and right now that was exactly what she needed.

  Each strike with the Gintama Sword, paired with an Armor-Breaking Talisman, cleaved clean through scales and bone.

  And she still had one Rank Five Armor-Breaking Talisman—a gift from her senior brother. That one, she’d save for the white-haired monster.

  From across the battlefield, Lauren could see the creature trying to heal, her white hair now matted with blood. Each new wound reopened the old ones. Her aura flickered—unstable, fading fast.

  She wouldn’t hold that cultivator realm much longer.

  “We have to finish this quickly,” Lauren said. “If we drag it out, she’ll recover.”

  Nash grunted, smashing aside a lunging Mermaid. “Got it! kill or stop the singers—their damn song’s getting to me!”

  That eerie melody filled the cavern again—seductive, haunting, like a siren’s lullaby. It crawled under their skin, clouding their thoughts.

  Nash grimaced, pulling a row of ancient bronze chimes from his bag. He struck them once.

  A low, resonant tone rolled through the air like thunder underwater.

  The song faltered. The oppressive haze lifted from their minds. Their breathing steadied.

  When the echoes faded, the ground was already slick with blood and strewn with Mermaid corpses.

  The white-haired Mermaid raised her head, her crimson eyes blazing with hatred.

  Watching her kin fall one by one, her rage burned cold and sharp.

  Damn those human cultivators, she thought, trembling with fury. They’ve gone too far.

  The white-haired Mermaid stopped trying to stabilize her collapsing cultivator realm. Instead, she threw back her head and howled at the moon.

  The sound was deafening—part shriek, part crow’s cry, so piercing it made their eardrums feel like they were about to burst. Even the male Mermaids’ eerie singing outside couldn’t compare to this.

  For a moment, everything stopped.

  The fighting. The sound. Even the air seemed to freeze.

  Then Edmund’s voice echoed inside Lauren’s mind—sharp, urgent, commanding.

  “She’s using a forbidden technique to force her cultivation up. Release your Ice Domain now, or it’ll be too late!”

  Lauren didn’t hesitate. She didn’t care that the four high-grade spirit stones powering her formation would only last half an incense stick at most. With a thought, she unleashed the Ice Domain.

  A surge of biting cold spread outward, locking the air in glittering frost.

  The white-haired Mermaid’s power swelled violently—her cultivation surging back to that of a fifth-level Great Demon. But the price was clear. Her aura flickered, unstable, unsustainable.

  Half an incense stick—that was all she had.

  But in her mind, that was more than enough time to tear these human cultivators limb from limb.

  Her surge of dominance lasted barely a moment before the backlash hit. Her body convulsed; her aura cracked. In the next heartbeat, she plummeted straight back to the fourth level—her strength collapsing like shattered glass.

  “Ahh—damn you human cultivators!” she screamed.

  Lauren turned toward her—and froze for a heartbeat.

  The once ethereal, almost elven beauty of the white-haired Mermaid was gone. In her place crouched a shriveled old creature, skin as dry and cracked as tree bark. Her scales had completely sloughed off, her silver hair hanging in matted clumps.

  Lauren’s brows lifted slightly.

  So that’s the price she paid—trading defense for brute strength.

  Perfect. That meant Lauren could save her fifth-rank Explosive Spirit Talisman for another day.