Chapter 163: The Patriarch Comes to Attack

Zhang Jian was also curious about this rebel king who had risen first in revolt, so he followed along to watch the excitement.

Along both sides of the street, at this moment, elite troops from the Capital Defense Garrison had been deployed, with sentries posted tightly on either side.

But this could not block the enthusiasm of the citizens of Haojing.

The streets were packed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of people.

At this time, Zhang Jian felt a little nostalgic for Zhang Lu—if that big fellow were here, just planting himself in the crowd would make him a living wall.

Without Zhang Lu, Zhang Jian had no choice but to squeeze in with the crowd, though wherever he passed, people seemed to naturally make way for him, allowing him to reach the front.

At this moment, the long procession of captive rebels had already entered the city. Ahead, Zhang Jian saw a burly old general wearing a phoenix-wing cap and flying phoenix scale armor, holding in his hand a long weapon resembling a guandao, his entire body radiating intense killing intent; though his beard and hair were white, his eyes shone brightly.

"Old General Yang has arrived!"

"

At this moment, cheers erupted from the crowd.

"Heavenly Man Warrior?"

Zhang Jian's gaze fell upon this old general, and in his spiritual eyes he could see that although the general was aged, his aura remained constantly at its peak, never declining; the spiritual energy around him seemed to resonate with him constantly, his vitality and spirit maintained at peak condition.

This is a common trait between those who have passed the Fate Testing and established their foundation, and Heavenly Man-level martial artists.

As long as one's magical power does not dissipate, one's condition will remain at its peak until the moment one's lifespan ends.

That is called dying from exhaustion of magical power.

Zhang Jian glanced at him but did not pay much attention; his gaze mainly fell on the few people behind.

Behind General Yang Gonghu followed a dozen or so spirited martial officers.

This spirited bearing mainly referred to Qi Yi, who at this moment exuded intense blood energy from his entire body, like a small furnace, and his tempered body strength had also reached the peak of a grand master.

Behind him followed Qi Yuanwu, as well as several newly risen young officers—Song Yu, Zhao Qingshan, and others.

Each radiated killing intent soaring to the heavens, their qi and blood overwhelmingly strong, faintly revealing celestial patterns.

In Zhang Jian's gaze, he could see traces of stellar omens on General Yang Gonghu and several of the commanders.

"The commander stars are like clouds—the fortune of the Great Qian court is not yet exhausted; at the very least, there are still decades of fortune remaining!"

Zhang Jian felt a heaviness in his heart, though he actually did not care much.

What he sought was not the present, but the future.

If he cannot do it, then his descendants can.

Since he condensed the dragon vein, Zhang Jian knew that as a professional rebel, he cannot avoid doing it—if not him, then it will fall upon his descendants.

Moreover, this also concerns his Dao path.

In his spiritual eyes, the soldiers of the entering bandit-suppression garrison radiated intense killing intent, and under the influence of this killing intent, these commander stars each manifested as phenomena, causing all evil forces to retreat.

At this moment, Qi Yi, riding a tall horse, noticed Zhang Jian's presence after being reminded by Qi Yuanwu beside him; his eyes brightened, and he immediately nodded toward Zhang Jian's direction.

Seeing Zhang Jian here made Qi Yi extremely happy.

He had also heard that Zhang Jian had topped the palace examination in the sixth spring of the Jingwu era, becoming the top scholar—this was indeed bringing glory to his ancestors, and mentioning it in the military gave him great face.

The main commander in the military also praised this endlessly.

Moreover, there is no need to mention that on this battlefield, the Qi father and son had repeatedly relied on the methods from the《Jiachen Wu Jing》to achieve merit, preserve their lives, and for Zhang Jian, this grandson-in-law, they felt affection extending even to the crow on the roof.

At this moment, behind them was a long line of prison carts, each containing a rebel leader with disheveled hair and grimy face.

Especially the leader, the Bright King Chang Li—this towering, sturdy man resembled a frost-beaten eggplant, head bowed, spiritless, his face entirely ashen.

"After all, he was the vanguard for the king!"

Wherever Zhang Jian's gaze fell, he could see that the deep facial fate pattern of this young Bright King, the coiling dragon fate pattern, had already been broken.

His dragon tendons had all been extracted, his fate pattern shattered, and strands of purple-blue light drifted away from his spiritual platform.

Besides the Bright King, the prison carts behind also held many cultivators from the Xuan Du Sect, each having their magical power abolished, now looking dejected.

The prison carts were stained with blood, suggesting they had endured many battles along the way.

It was even possible these people had been used as bait to lure Xuan Du Sect cultivators into a trap.

With this thought in mind, Zhang Jian was not baselessly imagining things—in his sensitive spiritual sense, he could faintly feel that countless gazes were spread throughout the surrounding streets, now patrolling the area.

Searching for suspicious individuals.

Some figures possessed extremely deep cultivation, hidden extremely well.

Even he could only barely sense the existence of faint, elusive traces of vital energy.

However, with his current spiritual awareness, even if his spiritual sense could not detect it, relying on that formless intuition, he could still pinpoint the other's location.

This is a strange ability he derived from contemplating the《Tai Shang Wen Dao Jing》, nearly akin to a divine power.

As long as one maintains the absolute rationality of Tai Shang Wang Qing, one can gain godlike perception, foreseeing events before they happen.

"It's better not to watch this excitement!"

Zhang Jian glanced around, and after the vanguard led by Qi Yi and Qi Yuanwu had departed, he prepared to withdraw.

Zhang Jian also felt that the rebel strongmen who had escaped would not be so foolish as to dare run to Haojing and walk straight into a trap!

But just as he turned to leave, passing an alley, his expression suddenly shifted, and though he heard nothing unusual, he caught several extremely faint, intense gasping sounds in his ears.

At first listen, this intense gasping sounded like a common respiratory illness, but upon closer listening, it seemed to carry the sound of death.

"Hn!"

Zhang Jian's gaze snapped toward the alley—only to see that among the people lying on the ground in the alley, the faces of many civilians suddenly changed: their mouths split open, long tongues protruded, or their bodies rotted and suppurated, then they let out inhuman screams and surged out of the alley.

Moreover, the ground suddenly emitted a rustling sound, like a vast ocean of black worms suddenly emerging from beneath the homes on both sides, crawling toward the prison carts.

The worm surge spread like a flood along the long street.

Zhang Jian's gaze changed, and in the first moment he had already withdrawn.

He seemed like a gust of wind—several flashes and he vanished without a trace, while at the same time he casually grabbed two unconscious civilians by the hand; as for those farther away, he could do nothing to help.

These civilians, in panic, were instantly submerged by the surging flood of various poisonous insects that burst forth.

"Gu God, you have great audacity!"

At this moment, in the void, several Daoists saw this scene and came out in anger, furious and about to cast a spell to annihilate the poisonous insects that had suddenly appeared, but they saw countless spiritual transformations in the depths of the void, and a majestic face appeared above the firmament.

A beam of mysterious light surged down from above the firmament, as if grasping the spirits of all beings, the majestic spiritual pressure descended, and even many Daoists could not help but kneel involuntarily on the ground.

"Ants, I, the Venerable of Xuandu, have manifested; why do you not quickly prostrate yourselves and pay homage to the Venerable?"

At this moment, nearby, the Daoist of Pure Brightness wore a Daoist robe of black and white, manifested his true form on the long street, frowned, and gazed up at the enormous mask above, with some astonishment in his eyes.

He had not expected that, for the sake of a Ming King named Changli, the ancestor of the Xuandu Sect would actually manifest in person.

Just a mere rebel—how could he possibly draw the ancestor of a sect to risk coming to his rescue?

Moreover, he brought the Xuandu Golden Body, ranked first among the Nine Treasures of Xuandu.

But since the other party has come, it is naturally better.