Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Soul-Reaping Heavenly Master

Upon hearing the voice, the faces of those within the cavern changed dramatically.

“Blazing Sun’s True Fire Shield!” With a swift motion, a circle of fiery red light shot forth from the hands of the man in brocade, surging toward the Gold-Eating Worm.

Zhou Kuigang had just spat out a mouthful of vital blood, fleeing dozens of yards away in an instant, narrowly escaping the deadly light shield. Yet the swarm of Gold-Eating Worms was trapped within the sea of fire, unable to escape, shrieking in agony as they crashed against the golden shield.

Zhou Kuigang had barely caught his breath when the Blood Corpse Luo Shangqing pursued relentlessly, swinging both arms to strike him down from the clouds. The Blood Corpse’s attack was pure brute force, without restraint; having struck true, it then charged at the brocade-clad man wielding the golden blade.

“Die, demon!” The man snorted coldly, his golden-bladed Pool-Lian sword instantly leaping into his hand, emitting a blinding golden light that illuminated the entire mountain forest—nothing remained but gold.

A vast, upright energy swept across the heavens and earth, surging toward the Blood Corpse. The emaciated man in the cave was terrified; even separated by hundreds of yards, he could sense the terror of this strike through his connection to the Blood Corpse’s primordial spirit.

A metallic clang resounded. Golden light filled the sky, cleaving the trees, rocks, and the Blood Corpse below into powder. With a single blow, a deep ravine hundreds of yards long and several yards wide appeared on the slope, where all vegetation and stone had been reduced to dust, life extinguished. The man in the cave was shaken to his core, his vision blackening as if struck by a hammer.

The art of controlling corpses was most damaging to the spirit; but if the zombie remained intact and its talisman undamaged, the master suffered no harm. Only the destruction of the zombie could inflict direct injury to the controller.

“What a blade—splitting heaven and earth!” Zhou Kuigang, now reduced to a beggar, crouched behind a boulder, his red robe tattered, his expression panicked, the bravado of moments before completely gone.

“Fourth Brother, how are you?” The man in brocade flew over, his face tense.

“Thank you, Senior Brother, for saving me. I—ah!” Zhou Kuigang sighed heavily, using his maces to support himself as he struggled to stand. Suddenly recalling something, he said urgently, “That demonic villain is still in the cave! Senior Brother, don’t let him escape!”

“Very well! Rest for now and watch as I capture that demon.” The brocade-clad man’s face relaxed; he mounted his golden blade and flew above the cave, calling out coldly, “Demonic villain, come forth and face me, Cang Bai Lang! Do not cower like a turtle!”

“Hmph! If I weren’t injured, you juniors would already be pools of blood. Even your master would call me elder—so what are you?” The cave dweller retorted coldly, producing a talisman.

Cang Bai Lang was furious and wasted no words, raising the Pool-Lian Golden Blade, intent on cutting through both the demon and the cave. This blade was no ordinary weapon: twelve hundred years ago, Baihua Sect’s foremost master Mo Qianhong and Mingguang, the divine monk of the Floating Temple, explored the Dao together and discovered the blade in a demon lair overseas. When this fearsome blade was first drawn, blood mist shrouded the sky and the sea surged. The two wise masters immediately joined forces, setting an array to cleanse its demonic energy and absolve the blade’s spirits, refining it anew, thus bestowing upon it the name Pool-Lian Golden Blade.

In truth, its notorious reputation rivaled that of the Kalana Blood Blade wielded by the Free Demon Lord; both were top-tier spiritual weapons. Now purified, the blade had become Baihua Sect’s supreme artifact for slaying demons; even its original demonic creator could never have foreseen such a fate.

As the treasured blade was drawn, the world trembled anew.

The demon in the cave, stubbornly refusing to emerge, gave Cang Bai Lang a perfect stage. The Pool-Lian Golden Blade’s shadow flashed, swelling tenfold; Cang Bai Lang gripped it with crossed hands, golden light blazing forth, almost becoming tangible.

With a thunderous roar, a gigantic blade of light descended from the sky, striking the slope below with tremendous force. The first wave of blade energy had barely dissipated before a second and third followed, flattening the hundred-yard slope and carving a deep trench.

Shockwaves rolled, earth and stone flew, and the nameless hillside was reduced to scorched earth.

“Pathetic!” Cang Bai Lang sneered, sweeping his spiritual sense through the rubble. If the demon had perished, surely there would be traces.

Yet after a moment’s search, nothing was found.

“Did that demonic villain really turn to ash?” Cang Bai Lang frowned, sensing something amiss.

“Senior Brother, what now?” Zhou Kuigang, now tidied up, approached Cang Bai Lang with his golden-silver maces.

Cang Bai Lang spoke in a low voice, “Something’s wrong. The demon has vanished without a trace.”

“What? This is disastrous!” To this point, Zhou Kuigang still didn’t know what had been lost from Xifeng Garden, but he was certain it wasn’t ordinary spirit herbs. If he couldn’t recover it or provide a proper explanation, strict punishment from the sect awaited.

The two soared through the skies, using this area as their base, searching the wilds within a thousand miles to the east and west. Zhou Kuigang’s cultivation was lacking; his spiritual sense could only cover dozens of miles, and his minor injuries slowed him further. Senior Brother Cang Bai Lang, however, was far more skilled, able to instantly discern the presence of any human or beast within a hundred miles.

While the two frantically scoured the mountains, near the wooden huts where the impoverished disciples of Tianmen Peak resided, a shadow suddenly appeared out of nowhere, looked around, and sneered coldly. Blood stains marred his clothes, and his emaciated face could frighten the dead back to life.

“They can’t kill me. In time, I’ll turn them into flying corpses! Cough, cough…” This was the mysterious demon who called himself the Soul-Capturing Celestial Master. Moments ago, he had used a Mountain-Penetrating Escape Talisman, expending most of his spiritual power to flee the cave and evade Cang Bai Lang’s Triple Barrier Slash, arriving here.

“What is this place?” He looked about: everywhere, old wooden huts, some faintly lit by candlelight.

“Hmm? Feels familiar!” With a flash, the emaciated man stood before a hut.

The door was shut. Peering through the window, he looked inside like a ghost.

“Boy, it’s you!” His blood-red eyes darted, fixing on the youth inside, who sat cross-legged in meditation.

This youth was Lin Feng. His bed broken, he had chosen to heal his wounds in the hut, hoping to make it through the night.

“Though the boy’s strength is lacking, if refined into an iron corpse, he’d be as powerful as the Blackstone Ape. Heh, if I’m pursued, he could buy me time…” With this thought, the Soul-Capturing Celestial Master pushed open the door, and before Lin Feng could finish his meditation, tapped his brow at the Divine Court acupoint. Lin Feng’s eyes widened, blood spurted from his mouth, and he fell unconscious.

“Heh heh, got him!” The Soul-Capturing Celestial Master chuckled sinisterly, laying Lin Feng flat and preparing the Mysterious Nether Corpse Refining ritual, to refine a living person.

“Yin Dynasty Sect! You’ve got nerve!” A thunderous roar shook the Soul-Capturing Celestial Master’s ears, his face whitening, his vitality severely damaged.

“What a powerful message across a thousand miles!” Knowing he was in danger, sensing the immense Daoist energy in the voice, he dared not linger, grabbed Lin Feng, and used the Thousand Mile Escape Talisman to flee.

With that escape, he left the realm of Tianmen Peak, emerging beside a canal, gasping, coughing incessantly. “This year’s bad luck, everywhere I go—damn it all! Cough, cough!”

“Who goes there!” A voice called from across the canal, startling Yin Dynasty Sect so much he nearly tunneled away again. The old demon was truly fearful of pursuit.

“It doesn’t sound like a cultivator.” Listening closely, he was somewhat reassured.

A group approached from across the canal, torches in hand, wielding knives, forks, and clubs. Their faces were illuminated by the firelight, and so too was Yin Dynasty Sect’s ghastly visage.

“Sir, where have you come from at this hour?” The leader, broad-faced, eyed the old and young pair with concern, failing to notice the murderous gleam in Yin Dynasty Sect’s eyes.

“Cough, cough, I’m traveling with my grandson. We were attacked by bandits and fled in the night, losing our way. Tell me, kind sir, where are we?” The old man did his best to appear kindly, holding Lin Feng in his arms, his face full of sorrow.

The burly man’s expression softened, and he clasped his hands. “This is under the jurisdiction of Great King Village. I am Wang Hu; these are Wang Shi and Wang Ying. Please, sir, stay in our village for the night; you can resume your journey in the morning.”

Yin Dynasty Sect considered it and agreed; it would give him time to refine his iron corpse, and in a wild village like this, no experts were likely to appear. So, he clasped his hands and followed the villagers.

Suddenly, the old demon’s face turned cold, his lips moving slightly, sending a message directly into Lin Feng’s mind: “Boy! Obey me, or I’ll kill you and these villagers together!”

Lin Feng had already awakened, but kept still, quietly assessing his surroundings, hoping to escape. Yet the old demon saw through him instantly.

Without a weapon, Lin Feng knew he couldn’t win, and feared harming the innocent. He could only feign unconsciousness, his mind racing with thoughts of how to escape.

After passing through fields, the group reached the village, and Wang Hu arranged for the old man and youth to stay in his own home, instructing his wife to care for them, before leading the men away.

The villagers were honest folk. Wang Hu’s wife quickly prepared a room for the “grandfather and grandson,” brought hot water and porridge, and then left.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Eat! After this porridge, you’ll be on your way.” Yin Dynasty Sect snorted, laying out several items on the table.

Lin Feng sat up, glaring at the old demon. From start to finish, he had no idea what grievance he’d incurred.

“Heh, you’re surprised? Blame your greed—you destroyed my ape corpse and took my talisman. Retribution! Cough, cough. If I don’t refine you into an iron corpse, I’d be merciful indeed!”

On the table, Yin Dynasty Sect laid out hooks, iron powder, cinnabar, and golden talisman paper, preparing to make his move on Lin Feng.

“So it was you!” A flash of determination appeared in Lin Feng’s eyes. He clenched his fists and charged fiercely.

End of chapter.