Chapter 80

Clang!!

Nie Longding, furious to the point of calm, suddenly narrowed his enraged pupils, twisted his wrist, and the tip of his blade deviated from the sword body, the edge grazing past the sword's edge.

The bent blade suddenly snapped straight.

In the nick of time, Seeing Chu Tianshu dodged this snapping thrust by turning his body, used his long sword to block the blade outward, and lifted his left hand to thrust directly at Nie Longding's eyeball.

For him now, in close-quarters combat, the speed of his left hand thrusting out directly was basically no slower than using silver needles, and it had even more lethality.

However, at the very moment he struck.

The enemy suddenly split into two.

Another silhouette appeared on Nie Longding's right side, a blade like a startled swan on autumn water, silent as an illusion.

The blade struck directly at the position under Seeing Chu Tianshu's left armpit.

Seeing Chu Tianshu's hair stood on end, his waist and hips suddenly moved backward, his body lowered by a fraction, but this also drove his entire upper body to move backward a certain distance.

Taiji Fist, "Reverse Riding the Black Dragon"!

A person's buttocks are actually the most muscular part of the body; this move uses the buttocks to exert force first, driving the waist and back to move backward.

This move, which only excels at short-distance backward dodging and is a bit of a "chicken rib" (useless but hard to discard), exploded with speed at this moment that was truly like a thunderclap.

His feet, stuck in the tiles, hadn't had time to move, but his upper body had already gained a certain distance.

Seeing Chu Tianshu's left arm flickered suddenly, using the copper-rope part of his arm to whip toward that blade that seemed both real and illusory.

Ding!

That blade was whipped away by his whip-hand.

The sound of metal colliding was emitted, but it also seemed exceptionally hollow and clear.

Nie Longding had already changed moves, hacking toward Seeing Chu Tianshu's feet.

Seeing Chu Tianshu rapidly withdrew his feet.

Two silhouettes, two blades.

The sword in Seeing Chu Tianshu's hand was like a tongue of fire, flickering left and right, suddenly releasing and suddenly retracting.

Although he couldn't stop retreating and had already completely left the altar, he blocked all of the two people's blade techniques.

After surviving the first round of heart-stopping fierce attacks, he realized something.

Nie Longding still had abundant physical strength, but his blade technique was not as exquisite as before.

And the silhouette that had separated from him was actually wearing the attire of a Japanese samurai, and the body felt somewhat translucent.

Its appearance was handsome, but the left arm was missing; it was clearly a ghost that had died with a severed arm and whose spirit had not dissipated.

This was a swordsman from Japan over a hundred years ago, Iba Hachiro.

During his lifetime, he was known as the "One-Armed Beautiful Swordsman," Iba's Tengu, and his blade technique was extremely excellent.

And now, he had gray hair, white eyes, gray clothes, and white skin—a completely ghostly appearance.

Only on his neck was there a pattern that looked like a shrunken version of a certain playing card.

A deck of playing cards has fifty-four cards; besides the four suits of thirteen cards each, there are two jokers.

The pattern on Iba Hachiro's neck was the Big Joker.

Nie Longding also had a "Little Joker" attached to him.

That was a serial killer from a small town in North America over thirty years ago; as a local butcher, he had killed over sixty tourists in a few years and sold their meat.

When he was surrounded and captured, this butcher, who hadn't learned any advanced martial arts, displayed a naturally savage physique and astonishing self-healing ability.

Even when soldiers arrived, he used a meat-cleaving axe to kill five of them before dying under a hail of submachine gun fire.

Many people in the gambling world know the methods of raising ghosts, and Nie Longding, as an internationally renowned gambling king, had unique research in this area.

After he painstakingly collected these two ghosts, he didn't feed them with blood sacrifices, nor did he ever send them out alone to do things, which would increase their ferocity and resentment.

Using his reputation as a gambling king, he created a set of custom playing cards, magnified the symbolic meaning of the cards, and used the ancient idol-worship concepts represented by the patterns on the cards to restrain these two fierce souls and wash away their "impurities."

Iba Hachiro's sword technique was more refined, while the butcher's fierce soul only retained the characteristics of increasing physical strength and self-healing ability while in the possession state.

In an overflow zone, ordinary ghosts would directly turn into physical entities, and even they themselves could no longer return to their spirit forms at will.

But under Nie Longding's manipulation, the two ghosts he raised could still choose to remain in their spirit states.

They only treated the environmental gain as a tonic.

"Withdraw!"

After a round of fierce attacks by the dual blades proved ineffective, Nie Longding did not hesitate and instantly had the swordsman's soul return to his own body.

The separation of the dual blades was a surprise move; since it was a surprise move, it couldn't be maintained indefinitely.

Otherwise, once Seeing Chu Tianshu adapted slightly, he would inevitably launch a fierce attack on Nie Longding, whose blade technique was not as refined.

This was also why Nie Longding hadn't used this move earlier.

Ghost possession was inherently a significant burden; having just released it and then re-possessing it was even more of a torture.

Nie Longding didn't know if his old bones could withstand it.

Now he appeared to have gained the upper hand, beating Seeing Chu Tianshu into continuous retreat, but in reality, he had been forced to use a desperate move and was fighting through gritted teeth.

Sure enough, the moment the swordsman returned, Nie Longding's complexion turned snow-white for a split second, and his left-hand fingers twitched, crooked like a chicken's claw.

Seeing Chu Tianshu lifted his left hand, and a large handful of silver needles were all shot out.

Nie Longding's right-hand blade, however, seemed unaffected, the blade light crisscrossing to cut all the silver needles.

But at the same time, Seeing Chu Tianshu had created a large amount of hidden weapons in one breath.

The silver needles he carried on him had been used up all at once just now.

With a sweep of the Sanqi Divine Sword, he directly whipped the potted plant next to the load-bearing pillar away.

Amidst the exploding soil, the ceramic shards were almost as fast as grenade shrapnel.

The floor on the left, the floor on the right, the surface of the nearby load-bearing pillar.

Those tiles were swept and shattered one after another, bursting forward.

Bang bang bang!! Bang bang bang!!

Seeing Chu Tianshu wielded his sword like a madman; the long sword in his hand was now like a heavy iron whip, fully unleashing the fierce whipping force within his fist techniques.

Facing the overwhelming "hidden weapons," Nie Longding had to defend against not only these fragments.

But also against when Seeing Chu Tianshu would follow behind the hidden weapons to thrust forward.

He had to be distracted.

But as long as there was even a little bit of distraction, there would be a flaw in his blade work.

Fragments scratched his cheek, tore his pant leg, and even embedded themselves in his left forearm.

And over at the hole in the floor, six men in black had already jumped up.

Fighting until now, Seeing Chu Tianshu's battlefield had been approximately a straight line, shifting from the hole to the altar, and then to further away.

Now the two of them had reached a position near the edge of the entire floor.

Besides some load-bearing pillars, there was nothing left here but large floor-to-ceiling windows.

The window glass was of very good quality.

The fragments Seeing Chu Tianshu shot out occasionally splashed onto the glass surface, leaving only some scratches and cracks without shattering it.

As soon as the six men in black came up, they looked out beyond the large windows at the vast white fog.

Two silhouettes, one holding a sword and one a blade, were fighting in front of the open large windows.

Fragments flew everywhere; the blade-wielder charged left and right, even wanting to push forward.

Even if there was a momentary approach, the swordsman would only be willing to collide blades with him three or four times at most.

Whenever there was a slight opportunity, the swordsman would shift his position, and another dozen brick fragments would burst out from under his feet.

Seeing Chu Tianshu felt that although he had rested for a day, he had become even more pessimistic.

The young men in black had their eyes light up, and they immediately went to help, leaning forward and sprinting, their long staves dragging behind them.

Now, as they sprinted, they saw something moving on the altar ahead.

It was a large amount of black jade fragments that had originally been scattered everywhere; suddenly, they all accelerated and collided at the center of the altar.

Clang!!!

All the fragments were orderly, not colliding at the same point, but perfectly piecing together into a pattern of a large tree.

A greenish hue emerged from the ink color, like a fragment relief sculpture.

An eerie green light, like a vine suddenly hanging down, shone exactly upon the large tree.

The ritual had only been half-completed when it was subjected to various interferences, and even Liu Tianxu, the key existence, had been shattered.

Yet now, the ghosts and gods actually used the small portion of sacrifice they had just received as a connection to bestow power in advance.

Around the altar, those half-dead people suddenly all stood up.

The sutures on their wrists were crudely made and originally insufficient to allow their palms to regain mobility, but now those sutures were like the veins of a leaf, flowing with turbid vitality.

Nearly twenty people turned their heads in unison to look at the six men in black approaching the altar.

Their eyeballs rolled upward, and it seemed one could hear the sound of moist nerves being stretched.

Until the pupils completely disappeared, leaving only complete whiteness in the eye sockets.

"Hahahaha!"

From the side of the floor-to-ceiling windows came a burst of laughter that rose and fell.

"Sure enough, ghosts and gods are also proactive; they also crave this era."

"The Tree of Longhua is actively maintaining this ritual!!"

First floor of the venue building.

The two cars blocking the corridor had been pushed out by people working together.

Outside the building, there was still a large area of land before the boundary fog of the overflow zone.

Because the environments of the two worlds overlapped, it looked like a messy patchwork of concrete and rust-red sand.

More than five hundred people crowded out, their faces still half-dreaming and half-awake, with expressions of panic.

"Ten thousand things pass like smoke, a body like willow catkins fades first. What is most suitable now? Suitable to be drunk, suitable to travel, suitable to sleep..."

Shen Yuntai followed at the back of the crowd, with Fang Jun guarding her side.

This branch director was not skilled in frontal combat, but her defensive and self-preservation abilities were quite good, and what was most astonishing was her support ability.

More than five hundred people who were nearly unconscious and weak in their limbs were awakened by her with a single poem.

"Ten thousand things pass like smoke, a body like willow catkins fades first."

"What is most suitable now? Suitable to be drunk, suitable to travel, suitable to sleep!"

This poem reached the ears of more than five hundred people, but it was not recited for them to hear.

It was recited for those boiling, scouring resentments.

The lineage of arts that Shen Yuntai cultivated was called "Millennium Song," and it was also once called "Imperial Chant."

Someone would travel through mountains, rivers, border passes, and towns, playing and responding before the imperial court, using poems to display the charm and style of various places.

A thousand years of poetry exhausted the past and present; the style of the current time could all be described by ancient poems, borrowing power from the popular millennium-old songs.

Shen Yuntai repeatedly chanted this "Moon over the West River," causing those resentments to no longer be extracted at high speed to the top floor.

Otherwise, if Liu Tianxu had still been serving as a high-speed channel for the massive resentment at that time.

Seeing Chu Tianshu's sword strike would have at most cracked or knocked away the jade statue; to shatter it in one go would have been truly difficult to achieve.

"I see their consciousness is still not particularly clear."

Fang Jun said, "Director, what other methods are there to help the people above?"

Shen Yuntai smiled: "The power of absorbing resentment suddenly weakened just now; the core of the ritual should have already been destroyed."

"Everyone here has also escaped the internal venue of the ritual; if you want to help, go up directly."

As she spoke, she pointed at Fang Jun's legs, "Silver saddle on a white horse, swift as a shooting star."

Fang Jun's pant legs snapped, and ten transparent, elegant characters flashed across his legs.

He felt his legs filled with power; with this kind of jumping ability, he should be able to climb directly from the holes inside the building to the third floor.

But just as he was about to run into the building, Shen Yuntai's expression changed abruptly, and she looked toward the third floor.

The surrounding crowd also became chaotic, looking toward the third floor one after another.

"What is that thing?" "What's going on, my head is dizzy again!"

Pale gray, transparent resentment surged up from the crowd and rushed toward the third floor.

Some of these resentments seeped into the floor-to-ceiling windows, while others remained outside, piling up into painful faces.

It was as if someone were playing a prank, using fog to draw on the glass.

However, those faces were too vivid.

And they were dense, almost filling the floor-to-ceiling windows of the third floor.

The tide of painful faces rose and fell, and it seemed their expressions were moving, all gulping down something.

The resentment below was attracted by them even faster.

"Ten thousand things pass like smoke, a body like willow catkins fades first... No, this is useless!"

Shen Yuntai took out a white jade pendant with an auspicious lion head, pressed it against her throat, suddenly turned her head, and said to the crowd, "Don't panic!"

This voice was like a low lion's roar in everyone's ears, causing the crowd to fall silent.

More than five hundred pairs of eyes looked at Shen Yuntai; the panic in their eyes was so clear, and the surface calm seemed as if it could be shattered at any moment.

"Sing a poem, sing a poem with me."

Shen Yuntai's thoughts raced as she felt the situation before her.

These five hundred people were themselves carriers of resentment.

All the resentment had been painstakingly gathered by them, bit by bit.

In this process, they naturally possessed a certain ability to restrain those resentments.

It was just that they were all ordinary people and couldn't realize or exert this ability at all.

Now there was no other way; she could only try to see if she could guide them to suppress the resentment themselves and cut off this extraction process.

But which poem should she choose? It had to be long enough and catchy.

Even with her leading, could these people grasp the meaning of ancient poetry and sing it together with all their heart?

Some elderly people could no longer support themselves and fell to the ground in groups like fallen wheat.

But fear made them understand that if they fell asleep here, they would likely never wake up; the will to survive made them still support themselves, sitting half-upright.

"Just singing is enough?!"

People grasped this last straw, "What poem to sing?"

Fang Jun also looked anxious and said abruptly, "Is singing a song okay? A modern song!"

Shen Yuntai's eyes shifted rapidly: "It needs to be popular enough and have a sense of grandeur..."

"Good!"

Fang Jun shouted to everyone, "You all definitely know how to sing this song; sing it."

Even after hearing him say this, everyone was still hesitant, not knowing if they would actually be able to sing it.

But when they heard the first line, just after hearing five words, they cleared their doubts and excitedly sang along.

They indeed all knew how to sing it.

Ten, thou, sand, li, Great...

"The Great Wall will never fall!"

They might not believe that singing could counter such a major ghost-haunting event, but in their fear, they had to trust the official personnel and do the only thing they could do now.

From the uneven timing of the first line to the second line, it was as if they had roared it out together.

"The Yellow River flows on for a thousand miles!!"

"The landscape is beautiful, the peaks are layered; ask me, where does our country look like it's sick?!"

Shen Yuntai also began to sing.

As soon as she sang, she added melody to this song, added all the musical sounds it should have, and brought the song to life.

"... Open your eyes, look carefully, who is willing to admit to being a subject or a slave?"

"Because of cowardice and forbearance, the enemy's arrogance grows day by day!"

This was not a song from a thousand years ago, but it was the song of the masses.

This was a song that had caused empty streets since the eighties, before the return, and had been sung ever since.

This was a song that everyone present had heard in their youth, and even as they grew old, they could still hear it often.

Initially, it was just the theme song of a TV drama, but the soul of this song had long since transcended the limits of a single TV drama.

Even if one day the entire TV drama industry rotted away and no one wanted to watch the old, classic image quality.

People would still hear this song, be familiar with it, and feel inexplicably moved.

One doesn't need to be a poet or lyricist with brilliant literary talent and deep research into ancient music theory.

Even if they were these people who had no luck, no assets, were destitute in their old age, and had been deceived, they still shared a common identity and could all sing this song.

"Open your mouth and shout! Shout loudly! Here, the whole nation is under arms!"

"Invaders have always tried to invade, but in the end, they will surely die!!"

The singing grew louder and louder, and the singing dispersed the power that was staring fixedly at them and squeezing them.

It seemed as if layers of invisible fog had collapsed in mid-air.

Shen Yuntai's hands changed twelve seals in an instant, and the singing in her mouth did not stop.

"The Great Wall will never fall, the Yellow River flows on for a thousand miles..."

The resentment being extracted from the more than five hundred people was completely severed from this ritual.

The vibration caused by this severance, under Shen Yuntai's guidance, reached the very top of the ritual.

Boom!!!

On the altar, the relief sculpture pieced together by jade fragments shook violently and turned into powder.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The floor-to-ceiling windows on the third floor all shattered, and glass powder sprayed outward.

Two silhouettes flew out from the third floor and fell toward the ground amidst the resounding singing.

(End of chapter)