Chapter 546: Wu Xian Learns a Foreign Language

After passing through the tunnel.

There lay a canyon.

The canyon was damp and dark, its edges overgrown with weeds and fungi; looking up, the sky was choked with dark clouds, no stars visible—this place felt as suffocating as a dormitory corridor.

There was no light source here, but Wu Xian had cat eyes, so he could make out a few things.

After crossing the pitch-black canyon, Wu Xian saw a peach tree, not very thick; behind it stood an open door, from which warm firelight spilled out.

As long as he entered this door.

Wu Xian’s today’s oral exam would be passed.

His fierce expression grew slightly vacant; in his bloodshot eyes, usually devoid of mercy, a rare flicker of confusion appeared.

In a, look`no, one mistake version%!

Now this black-faced rebel officer was the only living soul left in the village.

To prepare for such a moment, he had carefully memorized three sentences in language class.

To show respect.

Success! He had finally mastered a curse in the demonic tongue! Wu Xian had traversed so many blessed lands and fought countless demons—some demons genuinely disgusted him.

A new rebel asked: “Should we leave a survivor?”

Wu Xian had passed this oral exam.

He then searched different sentences for identical syllables to determine the meaning of individual words.

Those who have learned a foreign language may have felt this: when encountering a new language, the first things you learn are always curses.

This was when Wu Xian landed on the ground.

“I offer you a fresh sacrifice!”

The demon beckoned with its finger, its ghastly face twisted with unspeakable malice; in its hand hung several chains, each ending in a gaunt, writhing spirit.

This was the content of the language oral exam.

The demon’s forehead broke into sweat; slowly, it turned its head—and saw Wu Xian’s foot already inside the room.

“Ah… demon!”

Not being able to curse demons in their native tongue had been a great regret in Wu Xian’s blessed land journey! Since this curse had worked, he would pay close attention in the next two language classes—after all, this was the most valuable knowledge he could gain in this blessed land!

So when learning the demonic tongue, Wu Xian naturally focused his energy on mastering curses!

A man with charred skin rose from the courtyard—he was the officer who had been knocked unconscious by the “Thunder Wrath and Lightning Fury.”

Wu Xian knew it!

He wandered aimlessly through the village but found no living rebels; his men lay dead in gruesome heaps, their deaths unlike anything a human could inflict.

“From now on, I will worship you as an ancestor, offering four incense sticks daily.”

The black-faced rebel officer knelt helplessly on the ground; this new rebel force was still rebels, but not of his faction.

The demon suddenly heard a thud behind it.

His eyes lit up with excitement; he shouted loudly in the demonic tongue he had learned in class—the phrase he had prepared long ago.

BOOM! The massive impact flung the demon flying! Greenish flames, like parasitic leeches, spread from its chest until it was reduced entirely to a charred skeleton.

“You dare curse me!”

The demon froze.

Quickly, the demon’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, then to rage.

Because Wu Xian had vanished! The demon looked left and right but could not find him—yet if it looked up, it would see Wu Xian standing atop its head.

The demon pounded the ground hard, then yanked up the peach tree; beneath its roots lay a series of jagged, spine-like bones, each tipped with thorns.

Wu Xian rejoiced!

On that charred face appeared fear deeper than even encountering a ghost.

There stood another rebel force.

This was the effect of the demonic technique—Demon’s Height Advantage.

Like “baka,” “fuck,” “seba,” and so on…

Ghost-True Fire Spell! The true fire, tainted by demonic energy, turned a sinister green and struck the demon’s chest. “I am the Guardian of Peach Blossom Spring, this tree I planted, this door I opened; if you wish to enter, you must leave something here!”

…

Creak…

“No need. A message will do.”

If Wu Xian hadn’t spent hours analyzing linguistic patterns, how could his memory have retained only three sentences? Wu Xian watched the demon’s expression with tense focus.

This sentence had cost Wu Xian many brain cells to piece together.

Wu Xian walked over, pulled a spirit incense stick from the skeleton, then stepped lightly into the room with the open door.

The human language meaning of that sentence was…

The door closed.

After using this technique, Wu Xian could instantly teleport to any visible target’s head, one foot above, within a five-meter straight line, and remain suspended in midair for up to one minute.

“It’s over!”

The demon spun around urgently, but even it knew it was too late—even if Wu Xian moved slowly, he could still enter the room before the demon could react.

“Gē yuǎn fù shěng nǐ xiān huò!”

“I’ll crush you into paste and bury you under my tree, to nourish the peach blossoms—even the Earth Lord can’t save you, this is my…” *CLANG!* The demon’s voice cut off abruptly.

Because beyond the village.

After searching for a while.

The rebel force that slaughtered the village was already infamous.

Wu Xian planned to combine these three sentences into one and deliver them to the demon.

Wasn’t this just groveling?

But beneath the peach tree stood a demon: green-faced, red-haired, muscular, with protruding claws and a belt of human skulls.

“Oh? So there’s a survivor. Take him down and interrogate him—find out what happened.”

During language class, Wu Xian noticed that the demonic tongue had the same number of syllables as human language.

When the rebel officer awoke, he saw the village as if it were hell.

The black-faced rebel officer trembled in terror, his soul scattered; he screamed and fled toward the village gate—but as he reached the entrance, his pace slowed.

The leader of the new rebel force, mounted on horseback, stared in shock at the black-faced officer.

“I won’t let you in!”

As long as he agreed to offer sacrifices, become its servant, or give up eyes, duodenum, or other organs, he could enter the room safely.

“It must be a ghost! The village is haunted!”

Wu Xian watched the demon’s expression with equal tension.

Unexpectedly, Wu Xian didn’t step in—he pulled his foot back.

Wu Xian understood.

“Please don’t kill me!”

A pained moan echoed from the village below.

“I vow to kill your fresh ancestors every day!”

The phrase “leave something here” meant using the sentences learned in language class to communicate with this demon.

Seeing this, the demon rejoiced and raised its weapon—but before it could strike, a greenish fireball shot from Wu Xian’s hand.

How long passed, no one knew.

But this new rebel force terrified even the black-faced officer, for their reputation lay not in the number of kills, but in their torturous methods.

“If it were them, they might kill people in ways that look like ghostly horrors…”

The black-faced rebel leader was dragged away.

Through the night, the village echoed with inhuman screams of agony—screams that lasted and lasted…

(End of Chapter)