Chapter 604: Unworthy of a Single Blow

The Marquis of Zhongwu reached out and seized the heavy spear in his hand.

With the weapon in hand, his spirit surged, as if he had returned to his lifetime of leading troops across the battlefield.

Li Yi said, "Your strength is decent, but to capture this Daoist is pure fantasy. I've already gauged your general power from our earlier clash, so I have no patience to play with you further. Since the sky is still early, I'll just send you all on your way at once—saving me the trouble of dealing with you one by one."

"I am no waste of Mount Taiyue. Under my Fixed Nation Spear, you won't even get a chance to beg."

The Marquis of Zhongwu flew into a rage, strode forward with spear in hand, and in just a few steps vanished from his spot—only to reappear instantly before Li Yi, swinging his long spear. Faintly, the neighing of warhorses and the clashing of swords and armor echoed; a terrifying aura of slaughter spread—but this aura was reinforced by countless offerings and devotional forces, granting it an invincible divine might.

"This Marquis of Zhongwu is truly formidable."

The God of Mount Taiyue, witnessing this, twitched his eyelids and had to admit: the man's power far surpassed his own. No wonder he was a marquis forged in battle—even after death, he remained mighty.

Even he could not withstand this single strike.

Though this Daoist had the upper hand over him, he too would surely struggle to resist.

But the next moment—

Something unthinkable happened.

Such a terrifying blow struck Li Yi—and did not move him an inch.

Instead, his Daoist robe shimmered, transforming into a crimson-feathered divine bird that shielded him; no matter how fiercely the Fixed Nation Spear struck, it could not advance another step.

The robe's illusion faded, revealing a crimson-feathered, purple-gold armor.

"Just now, you said I wouldn't even get a chance to beg?" Li Yi gazed at him with glimmering eyes.

"What kind of armor is this?" The Marquis of Zhongwu was utterly stunned.

In life, he had conquered all under heaven; in death, he guarded a region—yet he had never seen such armor.

This was a mid-grade Dao artifact, specially forged for him by a Third Bloom Daoist. If a mere spirit of offerings could break it, then Dao artifacts would be worthless.

But Li Yi said nothing; he merely swallowed the qi of heaven and earth, and stirred his heart-fire magic power.

"Whirlwind!"

At this moment, he revealed his sharp fangs. Their earlier exchange had merely been a probe—to gauge his opponent's strength and avoid disaster. Now that he understood the general level of their power, there was no need to hide or hold back. He could unleash his Dao arts fully and send these spirit-of-offerings gods on their way.

He activated the Whirlwind Great Art. A storm swept across the heavens—and since he channeled heart-fire qi, the wind instantly turned to flame, engulfing the sky and burning for dozens of li.

"No good!"

The Marquis of Zhongwu was terrified, desperately trying to retreat—but it was too late. The storm surged, the fire seeped everywhere. He himself was a spirit-body, without flesh. The fire mixed with the wind poured straight into his body, scattering his offering-qi and piercing deep into his soul. Once the fire entered, it ignited him from within.

His entire body glowed red and burst into flames.

"Ahh!"

He screamed in agony, his body scorched, smoke billowing from every pore, and he tumbled from the sky.

Though he struggled desperately, he could not extinguish the flames—they seemed born to be the nemesis of spirit-of-offerings gods.

"You Daoist, you're treacherous! You hid such power and only used it now!"

The Marquis of Zhongwu roared, smoke pouring from his seven orifices, flames bursting forth. His body began to disintegrate—even the gathering of offering-qi could not save him.

For this fire burned only the Primordial Spirit.

Even a cultivator's Nascent Soul, once ignited, would turn to ash.

The God of Mount Taiyue, seeing this, tried to flee—but it was too late. The fire that now spread over dozens of li was not something easily escaped. When the wind entered his body and the heart-fire scorched him, his body melted. His already wounded chest shattered again; flames refined his soul, making him unable to bear it. He cried out in pain and tumbled from the sky as well.

The City God of Xinzhou, witnessing this, was utterly terrified. He tried to retreat to his temple, seeking protection from his statue—but it was too late.

The howling wind and blazing fire engulfed him. He had no chance to act—his divine robe burst into flames. When he tore it off, his body was already coated in flickering flames, and countless sparks erupted from within him.

Only by experiencing it firsthand could one understand how terrifying Whirlwind Turning to Fire truly was.

Impossible to avoid. Impossible to defend against.

If even three true gods met such an end, what of the ghosts and spirits brought along? Though numerous, the spirits touched by offerings dissolved instantly under the Whirlwind Great Art, their forms vanishing, their souls scattered—leaving not a trace. The spirit-beasts were burned outright by the heart-fire, their bodies charred black as they fell.

Amid the dark clouds, figures rained down like dumplings into the city.

In no time, the once fearsome horde of ghosts and spirit-beasts had vanished entirely.

Piercing screams echoed endlessly.

In this torment, the God of Mount Taiyue was the first to break. He roared, his body exploded, scattering offering-qi everywhere—but his soul had been burned clean, and the offering-qi could no longer coalesce.

Next to die was the City God of Xinzhou. He endured the burning pain, diving into a well in the city—but it did no good.

Ordinary water could not extinguish a cultivator's heart-fire. Worse still, with the Whirlwind Great Art's enhancement, even if the heart-fire were quenched, the soul-devouring, bone-melting wind would still kill you.

Soon—

The City God ignited and died within the well. The last to die was the Marquis of Zhongwu. He fell onto the street, rolled and writhed, and finally, amid a chorus of screams, his soul was utterly burned away, leaving only a vast tide of offering-qi dispersing into heaven and earth.

"Dead? All dead?"

Inside Yaoxing Tower, Prince Xin watched this scene, his heart trembling. He had never dreamed that the imperial court's officially appointed gods would be wiped out in one breath by this Daoist—clean and swift as autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves.

"How could this happen? How could this happen?"

Inside the Prefect's government office, Chu Pingzhi, the Yin Prefect, had been watching all night. He had assumed that with the Marquis of Zhongwu and the local City God joining forces, victory was certain—yet he never imagined such an outcome.

A vast fire had burned everything away.

Chu Pingzhi's lips moved slightly, wanting to speak—but no words came. He now fully realized he had utterly underestimated that Daoist of Taiyi. And indeed, the Daoist had not lied—he truly possessed the power to summon wind and rain. If such a man chose to rebel, he could truly rise to power.

Yet Li Yi scanned the surroundings, confirming with his own eyes that all the spirit-of-offerings gods had been destroyed before he ceased.

"Though becoming a god through offerings is fine, in essence, they lack a physical body—only a soul. They cannot attain the Great Dao. Once countered, no matter how much offering-qi they possess, it is useless. This method is unsuitable as a primary path, but ideal as a secondary one. If a cultivator uses the offering path to forge a Primordial Spirit, harnesses the power of heaven and earth, and combines it with a powerful physical body, then he would truly be invincible."

After this clash, Li Yi understood both the weaknesses and strengths of spirit-of-offerings gods.

One error, one mistake, one flaw, one detail—all visible at a glance!

Once certain his enemies were finished, he stepped upon crimson auspicious clouds and descended from the sky once more.

He did not go elsewhere—he headed straight for Yaoxing Tower.

"My Lord, that Daoist is coming."

Everyone was terrified, yet feared the Daoist's power so much they stood frozen, unsure what to do. Even as Li Yi entered the tower, none moved a muscle, afraid they too would be blown away in one breath.

"My affairs here are settled. What about you? Have you decided? Will you come with me to the capital to find the one who wrote the poem—or must I use force to take you?" Li Yi spoke calmly.

Prince Xin slowly returned from his shock. He smiled bitterly. "Master Daoist, you are truly a celestial being—what skill, what power! The God of Mount Taiyue, the City God of Xinzhou, the Marquis of Zhongwu—all three imperial-appointed true gods could not subdue you. What point is there for me to struggle uselessly? If you wish to go to the capital, I shall accompany you. But I beg you, grant me a moment to write a letter to the court, so they may pardon me for leaving my fief without permission."

"Otherwise, I would rather die."

Saying this, Prince Xin immediately took the sword from the swordsman's hand and pressed it to his own throat, a look of fearless resolve on his face.

He was using his life to buy himself a chance.

After all, leaving one's fief without permission was a capital crime. To die now at least preserved his reputation before and after death.

Li Yi said, "I am not a heartless man. Very well—I give you one hour. We depart after one hour. If you try to delay, I will not spare you."

"Thank you, Master Daoist. One hour is enough."

Prince Xin exhaled in relief, lowered the sword, and hurried away without delay.

Before leaving, he ordered: "Baiyuan, treat the Daoist with the utmost respect. Fulfill every request he makes. Do not dare to neglect him."

Baiyuan bowed in response.

Prince Xin hurried off, not daring to waste a single moment.

Li Yi made no move to stop him. After all, what could an ordinary man do? Even if he tried to flee, he could not escape a hundred li—no threat at all.

He simply found a seat and waited for an hour.

"Master Daoist," Baiyuan respectfully brought wine and delicacies for Li Yi to enjoy.

Li Yi said, "I promised you a concealment technique. Come close, lean your ear. Whether you learn it depends on your destiny."

Baiyuan was overjoyed.

He had not expected this Daoist to be so trustworthy—still remembering this promise.

Baiyuan crept close cautiously, leaning his ear to listen.

Li Yi did not withhold the minor art—he taught Baiyuan the concealment technique.

Baiyuan listened, scratching his head and ears—some parts he understood, others he did not, for Dao arts involved magic power, and magic power involved cultivation.

Yet cultivation methods were fundamentally similar.

Li Yi gave him a few pointers. Baiyuan, though a monkey, was clever, and soon grasped the basics.

Baiyuan attempted the technique. At first, it barely worked—he vanished halfway, missing limbs, looking bizarre—but it proved the art was real.

After practicing several more times, he grew more proficient—yet his tail stubbornly refused to vanish.

He wanted to ask why, but dared not.

Li Yi immediately understood. He spoke directly: "You are a monkey, not a human. Your form differs—so the technique must differ too."

"So that's how it is," Baiyuan nodded, half-understanding, then bowed deeply: "Thank you, Master Daoist, for teaching me."

(End of Chapter)