Chapter 404

Jiang Ding's words pierced the Golden Monk's heart deeply.

The Blood Cloud Eighteen Riders, mighty lords of the Northern Plains, sounded imposing—but in truth, they were nothing but stray dogs in the hands of the Zhengmo Alliance; perhaps even now, their lord Dong Xue Dong Xue Liuyun had already been beheaded by a Nascent Soul elder.

"Even if the Blood Cloud Eighteen Riders are fallen, it's none of your place as a Jin Dan Chu Qi cultivator to speak!"

The Golden Monk growled low.

Boom!

The hide-covered Golden Drum hovered above his head, pounding with a deep boom, sending out concentric rings of golden ripples that spread over his torso, arms, and skull—like donning a thick golden armor, impervious to all arts.

"Die!"

The Golden Monk roared, muscles bulging like coiled ropes, his speed and power surging dramatically—he leapt hundreds of zhang, bringing down a hammer the size of a carriage, casting a shadow over the earth.

A crushing, mountain-like aura pressed down; within several kilometers, even Jin Dan beings found movement agonizingly difficult.

"This artifact is decent."

Jiang Ding glanced twice at the hide-covered drum above him.

Clearly a classic war artifact—strong enough for duels, but its true purpose was surely on battlefields, bestowing a golden armor upon a group that enhanced attack, defense, and mobility in unison.

The azure sword hummed sharply,

Amidst a hazy azure glow, a thread of golden light emerged, rapidly expanding into a web that covered the entire blade, releasing a terrifying aura that spread upward and downward.

"This is…"

The Golden Monk trembled inside, his soul quivering in warning.

But now the arrow was on the string—he had to release it; if he interrupted the technique now, he'd be instantly gravely wounded and at their mercy.

"Kill!"

He pressed forward instead of retreating, flooding all his magic power into the giant hammer and drum; his golden armor instantly thickened severalfold, the carriage-sized golden hammer blazing with radiant light.

It generated boundless suction, drawing in soil, palaces, and shattered rocks from all directions into the hammer's base.

His heart settled.

Boom!

A blue-gold flying sword met the center of the Golden Hammer, holding firm for a moment; its piercing, anti-art magic radiance spread, and with a terrifying crack, metal shards flew everywhere.

The carriage-sized Golden Hammer groaned, its spiritual light dimming, shrinking like a deflating balloon and flying outward.

On the fist-sized hammerhead, a deep sword cut pierced to the bone, nearly severing it in two.

"This is a top-grade artifact!"

The Golden Monk was utterly horrified.

Shhh!

A blue-gold sword light pierced through his forehead, flooding in fine, annihilating sword qi that turned swathes of golden flesh and blood to ash.

"Oh?"

Jiang Ding's expression showed surprise.

"A fine Golden Cicada Shedding its Shell technique—Jin Dan peak cultivators might not have killed you; no wonder you've survived this long."

A kilometer away, the Golden Monk's body had shrunk to half its size, now resembling a golden dwarf; he burned his essence blood, desperately fleeing beyond the formation.

"Little Sixteen, what kind of person did you provoke?!"

"You even came knocking on his door yourself—after all these years of cultivation, have your eyes been fed to dogs?!"

The Golden Monk was filled with deep regret.

"Such a swordsman will bring utter ruin to my elder brother and brothers…"

Clang!

A sword cry,

Coming from afar, yet crystal-clear in his ears.

"My lord!"

"This is a misunderstanding!"

The Golden Monk's soul trembled; boundless terror nearly drowned him: "The Zhengmo Alliance's Twenty-Eight Clans are tyrannical, controlling all life in the Northern Plains, forbidding any non-Twenty-Eight Surname cultivator from forming a Nascent Soul—any outsider who dares to rise is met with Lei Ting punishment."

"I see you're not among the Twenty-Eight Surnames—we are allies!"

A flying sword hovered just before his third eye, pausing slightly, revealing its blue-gold blade.

Merely looking at it, the Golden Monk's third eye throbbed agonizingly, as if it would shatter any moment—he blurted quickly: "My elder brother and you are both outsiders of the Northern Plains, gifted talents—we should watch over each other and jointly seek Nascent Soul formation! Don't do what makes kin grieve and enemies rejoice!"

Shhh!

The blue-gold flying sword flickered, piercing through his third eye; annihilating, anti-art sword light surged in, destroying all life within his body.

The sword light recoiled, bringing back a weak soul and a Jin Dan on the verge of shattering; a faint, lunar-like sword intent enveloped the soul, stripping it of consciousness.

A third-grade supreme soul-extraction talisman was thrown onto it.

"Sigh, your discipline…"

"As an opponent, you're not bad."

Jiang Ding shook his head: "But as a comrade, you'd be a hundred times more dangerous than any enemy—you might die at any moment from your own allies' recklessness."

"Besides, anyone who wants me dead must die."

Dong Xue Dong Xue Liuyun and the like were, in his view, merely bandits with some progress—fierce, irrational, uncontrollable, always expanding their enemies' support base while shrinking their own sympathizers.

He could tolerate them, offer minor aid, but never cooperate closely.

Of course, if they were foolish enough to become enemies, killing them casually posed no issue.

"Never…"

Suddenly, the Golden Monk's soul twisted in agony, flashing a moment of clarity.

Bang!

The Tier-3 Supreme Soul-Search Talisman, along with the soul and spirit within it, collapsed into scattered gray ash, leaving nothing behind.

"Soul search failed."

"Something resembling a Great Dao of the Immortal Sects and the inheritance prohibitions of the Nine Great Immortal Sects? Huang Bao clearly did not have such things."

Jiang Ding frowned, accessed Huang Bao's memories, and searched using this matter as the keyword.

Several minutes later.

"This Liu Yun possesses a fortune that is truly astonishing."

Jiang Ding's frown smoothed: "He once explored a ruin and obtained an ancient sect's channel treasure, the Nine Sons' Heart-Link Knot, which can grant nine people soul and spirit protection, even preventing higher-tier cultivators from soul-searching them, and will never reveal to outsiders the matters inscribed upon the Nine Sons' Heart-Link Knot, similar to an inheritance prohibition."

"Furthermore, this person, surnamed Yin, was born a mortal noble's horse slave; since beginning cultivation, he has encountered constant miracles, turning disasters into blessings, somewhat resembling the legendary Child of Fortune."

His expression remained calm, showing no fear or panic despite facing such legendary things.

Such matters are also recorded within the Immortal Sects.

Fortune can be viewed as a region's tendency, when encountering numerous events, to lean with greater probability toward favorable outcomes, being utterly mysterious.

But to claim invincibility is far from sufficient.

Fortune cannot create something from nothing; as long as all low-probability possibilities are blocked beforehand, no matter how great the fortune, it cannot take effect.

Just as now, a Nascent Soul-stage Liu Yun, if the Liu Dao Sect took extreme measures and dispatched three or more Nascent Soul cultivators to pursue and intercept him, he would undoubtedly die.

Or, for instance, attracting the attention of a Soul Transformation cultivator; with a single thought, he would die instantly.

Facing such powerful cultivators, the only recourse for lower-tier cultivators is to hide themselves as much as possible, drawing no attention whatsoever from the opponent; sufficient time and space can obscure everything.

Unfortunately, Liu Yun failed to achieve this; his fate was already sealed.

He reached out and beckoned; the storage bag and the ancient-looking, dimmed-spirit large drum fell into his hand.

He casually opened the storage bag; its value amounted to tens of millions of low-grade spirit stones, with Tier-3 heavenly treasures and materials comprising nearly half, making it a good harvest.

"This drum..."

Jiang Ding's divine sense surged into it.

"Correct, it is a war artifact forged by a major sect, capable of bestowing Jin Jia upon people, providing group amplification to attack, defense, and movement; it is quite old. The Tianguang Yaoyang Sword Soldiers can use it; bestow it upon her when she advances to Jin Dan."

After storing these items, Jiang Ding's form became hazy, shifting into the appearance of the Peach Blossom Young Master; he shook his folding fan and walked toward the small hut the Golden Head Monk and the other had previously attempted to enter.

"Let me see which heroes and good men wish to hunt my head?"

Also, but I need to eat a meal first.

(End of this chapter)