Chapter 34

This evil Daoist had some genuine cultivation. He reached out and clawed at the air ahead. A thunderous boom echoed as stones on the ground cracked apart. This was precisely “Opening Walls” from among the Seventy-Two Earthly Fiend Techniques. One had to know that the Heavenly Constellation and Earthly Fiend arts were all orthodox methods of the Mystic Sect. If one walked the crooked demonic path, they absolutely could not cultivate them. This Daoist was eighty percent likely a true initiate of some sect, only having later abandoned the righteous path and entered evil.

Fu Juan, in the midst of performing the Altar Ritual, did not even pace the dipper. She directly used her own blood essence as bait to communicate with the spirits of heaven and earth. She didn’t even glance at the evil Daoist. With a flick of her ritual sword, yellow talismans landed in various positions, erupting into blazing flames. She was chanting the Summon Ghost General Spell, planning to use Yin soldiers against the soldier soul battle formation ahead.

On the other side, Wang Xuanming frowned upon seeing Jiang Yiguang merely guarding one gate with her sword raised. He maneuvered his Flying Sword Technique and pulled out a few more fire talismans. Although he wasn’t skilled in the Dao of talismans, he still possessed basic abilities, able to sketch simple talismans for combat. After cleaving apart the Yin souls ahead with a single slash, Wang Xuanming, like a hunting leopard, crouched, coiled his strength, and suddenly burst toward the direction where the evil Daoist’s silhouette had appeared. The razor-sharp flying sword traced arcs of cold, piercing silver light, only to pass through the Daoist’s form with disturbing ease. Wang Xuanming’s eyelids twitched. The Daoist’s shape before him dissolved like mist and clouds, only for a blurred outline to reappear in another direction.

One of the Seventy-Two Earthly Fiend Techniques! Doppelganger Technique!

Jiang Yiguang was frowning in thought. When she sensed danger, she instinctively raised her sword and cleaved downward. A bang echoed. She lowered her gaze, seeing first a Nine-Section Cane, then the Daoist’s withered, aged face. Jiang Yiguang had no time to ponder whether it was a “teleport” or another Daoist art. Gripping the ritual sword, she pressed upward again, her left hand quickly tossing out four talisman beans, continuing to summon Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers to share the pressure.

The evil Daoist frowned, sensing the pressure transmitted through his Nine-Section Cane, and retreated a step. He had been lurking in the shadows all along, knowing that the cultivation of these three juniors wasn’t particularly high. However, recent events had taught him caution. He still chose to strike at Jiang Yiguang, whom he perceived as the weakest link. After all, this one holding the ritual sword flailed wildly without any trace of “sword technique.” She was even timid and afraid of trouble, perhaps merely relying on the talisman beans and magical artifacts left to her by her elders to come join the excitement. But right now, he realized he had underestimated this opponent. At the very least, her brute physical strength had reached a level that could exert pressure on him. He laughed grimly to himself, channeled his methods, and pointed a finger at the charging Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers, once more using the “Opening Walls” technique. This divine power could split mountains and shatter stone, so why would he fear Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers with meager spiritual power? A flash of cold light gleamed, and the Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers burst apart with a “pop,” reverting to a broken talisman bean on the ground.

Jiang Yiguang inwardly cursed. This was no longer a matter of whether she “cared” or not; the evil Daoist had rushed right into her face. Was it still too late to flee now? If she stepped aside and Fu Juan’s ritual was interrupted, could there be backlash, aggravating her injuries? Jiang Yiguang’s mind swirled with chaotic thoughts, only snapping back to reality when the maddening screech of clashing weapons reached her ears.

Spacing out at such a critical moment—wasn’t that just courting death? This damned Fate prevented her thoughts from concentrating and becoming unified. A sudden surge of fiery anger erupted within Jiang Yiguang. She certainly didn’t think she could do anything to this Daoist proficient in earth fiend techniques, but holding him off until Fu Juan succeeded—that she could still attempt. Using the Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers to block the Nine-Section Cane for a moment, she gradually widened the distance between herself and the evil Daoist. If Scatter Beans to Form Soldiers didn’t work, then she would invoke Five Thunders! She didn’t bother with any standardized forms now; she simply threw every technique she’d learned recently at the evil Daoist.

The evil Daoist’s frown deepened.

These divine powers and spells raining down on him dealt minimal damage, but an inexplicable sense of humiliation rose within him, as if he could perceive disdain and mockery from this junior. He had to know that even the old Daoists of the Xuanzhen Dao Court dared not treat him so! If it weren’t for his severe internal injuries, which had damaged his foundation, he wouldn’t even have put these small fry in his sights. Slamming his Nine-Section Cane into the ground, he formed a spell seal and used the “Borrow Wind” technique. Instantly, the wind in the wilderness transformed into bestial roars, sweeping forward like knives and swords.

The fiercest winds were hurricanes capable of kicking up Flying Sand and Rolling Boulders. Jiang Yiguang’s eyelid twitched. A golden light flickered over her body; the faint outline of an impenetrable golden armor materialized around her.

A look of astonishment surfaced on the evil Daoist’s face. “A Golden Body Talisman?” This talisman was a high-tier defensive charm. These three juniors lacked the skill to make one; even he, after decades of cultivation, had never managed to draw a Golden Body Talisman of high quality. Concealing the burning avarice in his eyes, his killing intent actually lessened somewhat. A playful smirk curled his lips; he decided to bypass Jiang Yiguang and strike directly at the ritual altar instead. But just as he moved on the wind, the gleaming, cold blade of a sword appeared before him. His smile instantly froze.

Perhaps it was from cultivating the Mystic Sect’s Daoist arts, but Jiang Yiguang found her senses far sharper than before. Hearing the words “Golden Body Talisman,” she immediately recalled the talisman Fu Juan had slipped to her back when she wasn’t paying attention. She’d never returned it. But using it now for Fu Juan’s sake could, barely, be considered repaying that favor from back then. As long as the Golden Body Talisman didn’t dissipate, she effectively had an “invincibility cheat” active. She didn’t need to worry about anything else, just charge in head-first!

In that instant, Jiang Yiguang grasped the immense benefit of having increased Physical Strength Points. The system’s rewards were far too random, but each time, at least one option was tied to her panel. When encountering harmless choices in the future, she’d lean toward “Physical Strength Points” and “Daoist Skill Points” as much as possible. As for Chivalry and Charisma—could those let her live freely and carefree? If not, what use were they?

The sky was dusky and dim. Hurricanes kicked up sand and stones, crashing down like a massive tidal wave. The evil Daoist’s face had paled considerably. After repeatedly using his spells, his unhealed old injuries were agitated. A pain, like violent waves pounding, surged from his internal organs, feeling as if his five viscera and six bowels had shifted out of place. Cursing “Damn it!” under his breath, a harsh, cold light flickered in the evil Daoist’s eyes. He flipped his wrist, and suddenly a talisman, etched with sinuous, bloody, arcane patterns, appeared between his fingertips. But before he could cast it, a thunderous explosion boomed, and bolts of lightning, thick as pillars, smashed down upon his face.

The speed at which that junior on the ritual altar—whom he’d deemed shallow in cultivation—performed the ritual was far faster than he’d anticipated.

Why could someone, without relying on their own cultivated merit, without even pacing the Gang steps, still sense the gods and conjure divine powers?! Why did some people receive heaven and earth’s favor, while he, after years of bitter cultivation, gained nothing? Deep envy churned within the evil Daoist. He shouted, “Go!”, and the talisman transformed into a bloody arrow, shooting forward at extreme speed. This was an evil talisman, activated by one’s own blood qi. At a time when his essence blood was already depleted, the evil Daoist had truly not wanted to use it.

At the heart of the storm, Fu Juan sat in her wheelchair. Around her stood four towering, rugged demon kings in full battle armor. When the blood arrow arrived, the red-haired demon king on the right brought his great blade slashing down. The violent gale shattered under that single strike, the residual gale-force dispersing Fu Juan’s hair tie. Soft black hair cascaded down, veiling her cold expression.

“Great General of the Dark Deep, four-armed, three-headed. Left flank with disheveled hair, heads wearing skulls. Faces like blue indigo, commanding all troops…”

Fu Juan’s voice was icy cold. As the incantation fell, mournful, chilling howls rose. It was as if the Gate of Fengdu had opened. Behind the demon kings, countless Yin souls formed into soldier formations, marching forth with clattering steps.

The evil Daoist’s expression turned incredibly grim.

After weighing his options for a moment, he decided immediately to retreat. At least he’d be safer once inside the battle formation.

His escape speed was exceedingly fast. The ghost soldiers pursued relentlessly from behind; the gloomy, rumbling Yin drums harassed his mind, making his temples throb violently. But the worst was yet to come. When he reached the “domain” where the battle formation should have been, all those ghost soldiers had gone completely silent! The “General” was absent! That damned female ghost—he’d known she was unreliable. The evil Daoist cursed furiously in his heart, forcefully mustering a breath of energy to flee once more.

The ghost soldiers from Fengdu did not pursue further.

Fu Juan covered her mouth and coughed violently. She opened her palm; it was covered in bright red blood.

Before Jiang Yiguang could walk over, Fu Juan wiped the blood from the corner of her lips without a trace, clenching her right hand into a fist and resting it on her lap.

The stark pallor and weakness on Fu Juan’s face were utterly impossible to hide. Seeing it, Jiang Yiguang couldn’t help but frown. Her mouth opened, wanting to express some concern, but suddenly recalling her own “future,” she forcefully swallowed the caring words. She averted her eyes, looked at the dense, orderly ranks of ghost generals and ghost soldiers, and asked, “Going to break the battle formation?”

Fu Juan kept her head bowed; a sense of inexplicable loss welled up deep inside her for no reason. After a moment, she lowered her voice and answered, “Go.”

Jiang Yiguang said, “Just now, when the evil Daoist fled for his life, the battle formation didn’t even appear.”

Fu Juan declared without hesitation, “Then open the Gate of Fengdu again and directly placate the souls.”

The two were just talking when Wang Xuanming hobbled over, drenched in sweat, his figure covered in dust and dirt, looking utterly miserable. He stopped several steps away from Fu Juan and asked, full of concern, “Are you alright?” Fu Juan’s injuries from before hadn’t healed, and now she was using this superior incantation technique… she would likely have to pay a certain price.

Fu Juan didn’t answer; she didn’t even spare Wang Xuanming an extra glance.

She lifted her eyes and looked calmly at Jiang Yiguang.

After dissipating that earlier coldness, she was like a long wind blowing down from Kunlun again.

“Wang Xuanming is asking you. What are you looking at me for?” Jiang Yiguang was baffled.

A moment later, as if struck by sudden enlightenment, she nodded in abrupt realization, plastered on a fake smile, and grudgingly asked, “Are you alright?”