Chapter 603: The Incense God

Li Yi's movement unleashed a tremendous surge, twelve strands of heartfire illuminating the night in crimson, like twilight's afterglow, strikingly beautiful; this heartfire was exceptionally scorching—merely by appearing, the temperature above Xinzhou City surged rapidly, as if summer had arrived overnight, bringing a searing heat.

But instantly, the vast heartfire receded, condensing swiftly onto his fist.

Dragon-Tiger energy coiled around him, heartfire bolstering his power; Li Yi did not invoke any Daoist technique, instead meeting the two hammer strikes of Mount Taiyue's god with nothing but his raw strength.

The hammers, each like a small mountain, came crashing down—it was hard to imagine that Li Yi's tiny frame dared to meet them head-on.

This sight sent shivers through the crowd inside Yaoxing Tower.

Is this man truly so fearless?

Though clad in a Daoist robe, he radiated the aura of an invincible general who had fought a hundred battles—every inch of him exuded ferocity.

BOOM!

This collision shattered the heavens like a thunderclap; sparks scattered in all directions, transforming into crimson streaks that splashed across the sky, followed by a terrifying shockwave that rolled through the dark clouds, cleansing the world. In an instant, the sky cleared again, moonlight spilled down, and countless stars glittered brilliantly.

"Who won?"

The force erupted into a gale sweeping the entire city; Prince Xin widened his eyes, straining to see.

The wandering swordsman, the fox spirit, and the white ape were all stunned by this power.

It was unimaginable that a mortal Daoist could withstand Mount Taiyue's golden hammer with his flesh and blood.

That hammer was forged from the collective faith of countless people—each strike carried the strength of a million souls; few spirits or demons could survive even one blow.

Yet now—

The towering Mount Taiyue god staggered backward, his body trembling; incense energy coiled around him, his golden hammer humming violently, as if desperate to leap from his grasp.

"Strong power. Incense-born divinity does have some merit," Li Yi said, standing on crimson clouds, expressionless.

This strike revealed the true caliber of this mountain god.

Mount Taiyue's god was stunned and furious—he could not fathom how this frail Daoist had unleashed such power. His attacks had not killed him; they had been blocked outright.

He clenched his fists, gripping the trembling hammer, afraid it might slip away—then he noticed two deep fist impressions on the hammer's surface, surrounded by a web of cracks.

If they clashed again, his golden hammer would surely shatter.

"You're a demonic Daoist—where do you get such strength?" Mount Taiyue's god roared.

"I possess the art of subduing dragons and taming tigers—my strength is naturally greater. If this is all your skill as a mountain god, then today, not only will you fail to capture me, you may not even survive my hands. If you have reinforcements, summon them quickly. Don't risk your life alone." Li Yi said.

"Demonic Daoist, how dare you repeatedly defy this god? You seek punishment!" Mount Taiyue's god bellowed; his golden hammer now blazed with golden light, gathering countless incense beliefs, amplifying its power immensely.

The fist impressions Li Yi had made moments earlier were visibly healing.

Next moment—

The two hammers transformed into twin beams of golden light, charging again.

"Obstinate fool."

Li Yi remained unmoved; on his fist, an extreme radiance coalesced—this light was no ordinary force, but the Daoist radiance of "Dividing Rivers to Form Land."

Guided by Xiangxiangzi's instruction, he had condensed the Great Method of Dividing Rivers to Form Land into his fists, granting them the power to split mountains and cleave seas.

And Li Yi could summon at most two applications of this Great Method.

With future refinement, perhaps he could channel the Five Elements, uniting five Daoist arts to grant his fists divine and demonic power beyond comprehension.

He punched again.

One strike—and the onrushing golden light shattered instantly beneath a divine beam; the ultimate fist radiance obliterated everything in its path, leaving no obstacle in its wake. In an instant, the punch light reached Mount Taiyue's body, and his two golden hammers shattered on the spot.

"This is impossible."

Mount Taiyue's god was filled with terror.

This was a weapon forged from incense faith, refined day and night by countless worshippers, long ago become sentient—yet today, this rogue Daoist had smashed it to pieces with a single punch.

Before he could react, the fist radiance's residual force struck him full force.

His armor exploded into fragments, scattering everywhere; thick incense energy filled the air. Before he understood what happened, his towering body was torn open by a grotesque wound, his flesh cracking like shattered porcelain.

Pain—like part of his soul had been annihilated.

Mount Taiyue's god screamed, retreating as his incense energy began to unravel—and the unraveling grew more pronounced.

His body shrank; incense power leaked away.

Having been a mountain god for countless years, he now felt profound fear—he understood: he might truly be killed by this Daoist, even as a divinely appointed god of the imperial court.

"City God, save me!" Mount Taiyue's god abandoned all dignity and cried out.

One more punch—and he would be utterly obliterated.

No sooner had he spoken than—

From a City God temple in Xinzhou, an invisible light shot skyward, spreading incense energy; a middle-aged man appeared, clad in divine robes, majestic and awe-inspiring. With his arrival, wisps of green smoke rose from all around the city.

The green smoke swiftly transformed into yakshas, ghost generals, and yin officers.

In moments, countless spirits and deities emerged.

They concealed themselves within dark clouds, hidden from mortal eyes.

"Indeed, a formidable demonic Daoist. I never imagined even you couldn't handle him," the Xinzhou City God said, frowning deeply.

He had been secretly observing and preparing since the battle began.

If Mount Taiyue's god could capture him, the City God wouldn't need to show himself. But if he failed, assistance was necessary—the imperial court had issued a yin-bureaucratic decree: tonight, this demonic Daoist must not live to see tomorrow's sun.

Seeing his reinforcements arrive, Mount Taiyue's god exhaled slightly, then gritted his teeth: "It's not that I'm weak—I arrived hastily, unprepared. Had I known his strength, I'd have brought the Zhenyue Sword and three hundred elite spirits to surround this demonic Daoist. Then, even if he possessed heavenly arts, he'd die here."

As he spoke, his wounds stabilized; the cracks ceased spreading, and his incense energy gradually retracted.

Since he was not flesh and blood, but a body of incense, Mount Taiyue's god recovered quickly.

One word, one phrase, one detail—everything is visible!

Even so, he still felt searing pain in his chest, his spirit unsettled.

"Mount Taiyue's God, you've grown old. Even a demonic Daoist defeats you—now I must intervene. I say, step down before someone else takes your place. Don't cling to the incense of Mount Taiyue. Many are watching this position."

Yet beyond the City God, another voice came from afar.

From a dark cloud, a man in brocade robes arrived, accompanied by over a hundred elite spirits and minor deities.

Clearly, he too had been ordered to hunt down the demonic Daoist Taiyi.

"Lord Zhongwu."

Mount Taiyue's god's face darkened: "You choose your timing well. Why not appear after I'm dead?"

He knew full well that many coveted his position—so he rushed here immediately to capture the demonic Daoist, hoping to earn merit and preserve his title.

"Greetings, Lord Zhongwu," the Xinzhou City God bowed respectfully.

Lord Zhongwu had been a great general of the imperial court in life, famed for his battlefield exploits; after death, he was posthumously enfeoffed as Lord Zhongwu and granted incense worship from countless households, becoming a deity.

Lord Zhongwu nodded slightly, then glanced at Mount Taiyue's god: "You've shamed the court. If Prince Xin of this city dies due to your incompetence, do you think His Majesty won't issue an edict stripping you of your title and reducing you to a wandering ghost? Yet you still dare to boast before me."

"You—"

Mount Taiyue's god roared in fury, then clutched his chest and swallowed the rage.

The demonic Daoist still lived; the situation was uncertain. Now was not the time to turn against Lord Zhongwu.

First, they must unite to eliminate this demonic Daoist.

"You are the demonic Daoist Taiyi?"

Lord Zhongwu studied Li Yi atop the crimson auspicious clouds, eyes flickering: "Indeed remarkable. A mountain Daoist bearing Dragon-Tiger energy—but your dragon energy is impure, not imperial. More like a corrupted dragon, a demonic dragon. Hmph. I always said: in times of peace, how could a true Son of Heaven arise? Someone must have mistaken a false dragon for the real thing."

"Now I see—it's true."

He saw that while the silver tiger on Li Yi's body radiated pure, terrifying power, the dragon energy was malformed: though it bore a dragon's head and claws, it also had wings—certainly a dragon-subtype, not the true dragon. After all, Lord Zhongwu had stood before the Emperor and felt the true imperial aura.

Even so—

This man had already formed the Dragon-Tiger aura. If not eliminated soon, he would one day fracture the empire and declare himself false emperor.

"You talk too much. I've waited this long—only three incense deities came today? If there are more, I'll wait longer. After all, when you all die, it's better to go together, neatly arranged." Li Yi stood with arms crossed, his crimson feathered robe fluttering in the wind, his gaze sweeping casually—some killing intent flickering in his eyes.

"You think these three deities can't defeat you, demonic Daoist? Clearly, distance from the throne has made you bold enough to defy the imperial gods. Bring me my weapon!" Lord Zhongwu sneered, gesturing.

Soon—

A squad of ghostly bodyguards trudged forward, bearing a massive spear with heavy steps.

The spear was over ten feet long, as thick as a bowl; forged of refined iron, it bore golden inscriptions: "Imperially Bestowed, Spear of Stabilizing the Nation."

Merely the words "Imperially Bestowed" carried the incense faith of countless souls.

No wonder it required a squad of ghostly guards to carry it.

Its weight alone could crush a ghost to death if borne by a single spirit.

Clearly, this weapon was extraordinary—not comparable to Mount Taiyue's golden hammers.

(End of Chapter)