Chapter 836

Li Banfeng sprinted toward the Ink Fragrance Shop, gasping for breath.

The peddler pushed his cart, rushing downhill.

His leg was injured, so he stumbled as he charged.

The gauze on his body was soaked in blood, staining the entire path.

Qiao Yi’s plan was flawless; he still had over thirty thousand Totem soldiers, and he split five thousand to block Shi Ba Lun, and another five thousand to send Nian Shangyou to find an escape route.

He left twenty thousand troops to surround the peddler, encircling but not attacking.

The peddler was severely wounded; if he didn’t want to die, he wouldn’t dare to fight.

When Nian Shangyou found an escape route, Qiao Yi would lead the Totem soldiers out of the valley, reach the Ink Fragrance Shop, station troops there, and coordinate with San Tou Cha on both sides, then continuously reinforce with the Jade Seal and Great Totem, ultimately seizing the entire Pulu Province.

But the peddler charged down the slope, shattering Qiao Yi’s plan entirely.

It wasn’t just Qiao Yi thrown into chaos—the Totem soldiers had fought for two full days in this valley, scattered everywhere, killed by the peddler and Wulao Valley through various means, and now they had finally gathered together, yet thirty thousand Totem soldiers surrounding a single peddler showed no composure, instead sinking into eerie panic.

The vanguard’s squad of Fire cultivators concentrated their flames on the peddler.

Qiao Yi cried out: “Reckless!”

He rarely commanded on the battlefield; if even he could see the recklessness, this move was wildly irrational.

Had these soldiers been affected by the peddler’s technique?

The flames didn’t burn the peddler—instead, a fierce wind swept through the valley, blowing the fire straight into the Totem soldiers’ formation.

No matter how tough the soldiers were, they had to dodge the flames; the vanguard descended into chaos.

The soldiers waited for Qiao Yi to respond; Qiao Yi waited for the soldiers to counter themselves; as flames rolled, a rain cloud drifted above the gorge, and the soldiers felt reassured.

Commander Qiao still had a response—summoning rain clouds with Water cultivators at this moment was the wisest choice; once the fire was extinguished, the vanguard would immediately reform.

Qiao Yi relaxed; the Totem soldiers’ combat discipline was indeed impeccable—they had endured only brief chaos and already knew to use rain to defend against fire.

When the downpour arrived, the fire roared with the wind, spreading from the vanguard all the way to the rear.

Qiao Yi was stunned; the soldiers were stunned.

The rain wasn’t water—it was oil!

This rain cloud wasn’t Qiao Yi’s technique, nor the soldiers’ response—it was the peddler’s technique.

How do you counter when oil, fire, and wind appear together?

The Totem soldiers couldn’t think of a solution; Qiao Yi ordered: “Form the Thousand-Man Force Array to resist!”

Forming a Thousand-Man Force Array in such a narrow gorge was difficult.

The Thousand-Man Force Array had many variants; the Long Snake Array was one of them, and its formation suited the valley’s terrain well.

But the Long Snake Array itself was thin; against an opponent like the peddler, such a fragile formation could easily be pierced.

Under current conditions, thickness wasn’t the priority—first, they had to withstand the fire; the Totem soldiers were flesh and blood, and the vanguard, engulfed in the fiercest flames, couldn’t form any formation at all.

The center formation held its ground, using Wind cultivator techniques to push the fire forward; the opposing wind forces clashed, and logically, with superior numbers, the Totem soldiers should have held the advantage.

But this wind wasn’t coming from just the peddler.

When the peddler fought, Wulao Valley fought too; Wulao Valley joined the peddler in summoning gales, and the valley’s wild winds locked in stalemate with the Totem soldiers’ Wind cultivators.

The fire stalled in the middle, burning nowhere else—only the vanguard was consumed.

Thirty percent of the vanguard burned to death; the remaining seventy percent abandoned their formation and scattered.

The center formation fought desperately against the peddler; the peddler tried several times to use the Broken Path technique to break through, but failed.

Qiao Yi gathered a group of Mind cultivators to disrupt the peddler’s mind; the peddler spun his wheels, nearly falling to the ground.

Seeing the peddler weakened, Qiao Yi immediately ordered a counterattack; Flesh cultivators rushed forward and stuck to the peddler’s shoe soles and wheels, while Arrow cultivators unleashed a barrage of arrows.

The cart was pierced like a porcupine.

The peddler was struck by over a dozen arrows and took cover behind the cart, thinking of his next move.

He pulled out the arrows first; the wounds weren’t painfully sharp, but tingled and itched—the arrows were poisoned, and every Arrow cultivator had a Poison cultivator fighting alongside them.

Now arrows rained down—how could he break out?

The best solution was to use Oil cultivator technique to make the arrows slide off, but the peddler hadn’t been able to use it earlier—his intent had been disrupted by Mind cultivators, and now he was poisoned; he couldn’t even activate stronger techniques.

Another viable option was to relocate, but Qiao Yi wouldn’t fall for it again.

Qiao Yi had already discovered the essence of the Pact Contract—the peddler doesn’t fight, Wulao Valley doesn’t fight; if the peddler relocates, Wulao Valley won’t fight or use its Layered Peaks technique to block enemy departure, and Qiao Yi could concentrate his forces to escape Wulao Valley.

If Qiao Yi truly led thirty thousand troops out of Wulao Valley, the consequences for Pulu Province would be catastrophic.

What other way could the peddler stop Qiao Yi? He could barely resist the Totem soldiers’ Mind cultivator techniques now.

Ding ling!

A light breeze blew, and the wind chime hanging on the cart rang.

This was the wind chime Lu Qianjiao gave the peddler; though small, its sentiment ran deep—it was handmade by Lu Qianjiao, twelve bells, six pendants, all polished by her own hands.

With such deep affection, certain techniques became easy to wield; the peddler used a thread of emotion, tying it first to the wind chime.

The chime immediately responded, its sound growing louder, gradually disrupting the Mind cultivators’ techniques and severely interfering with the Arrow cultivators’ aim.

Qiao Yi was a Seer; he faintly heard the chime’s sound, but hadn’t expected its power to be so great—he ordered soldiers to blow horns and beat drums to drown out the chime.

The peddler’s fingertip trembled again; the chime swayed continuously, pulling the emotion thread to bind over a dozen rattle drums on the cart.

The rattle drums clattered together; though much smaller than war drums, their sound was astonishingly loud.

In the valley, the rattle drum echoes reverberated, merging with the drumbeats to form a sonic field.

Qiao Yi felt searing pain in his ears and immediately halted all Seer techniques.

Under the drum disturbance, the Mind cultivators’ techniques collapsed completely, and the Arrow cultivators missed their targets.

The peddler exhaled deeply; the technique he had just used was an Emotion cultivator technique: Heartfelt Synchrony.

The wind chime held Lu Qianjiao’s deep affection; the peddler used only one emotion thread, linking the chime to the rattle drums, then to the entire valley, using Sound cultivator technique to halt the enemy’s assault.

With this moment of respite, the peddler first took a vial of medicinal powder from the cart and detoxified himself.

When he regained some strength, he shoved the cart hard—it didn’t move, but all the arrows embedded in it flew out, turning midair, skimming the ground, and hurtling toward the enemy.

Every Totem soldier assumed the peddler was using Arrow cultivator technique and had already protected his legs—they’d witnessed the peddler’s cruelty before, and too many Totem soldiers had died from his leg-targeting strikes.

These arrows weren’t fast, and their trajectory was fixed—no turns, no detours; dodging required only a simple leap, not much effort.

They thought the peddler’s Arrow cultivator technique was nothing special, but when they landed, some soldiers felt something was wrong.

Their bodies sank downward; the ground beneath their feet turned to mud.

Mud cultivator technique was effective against Thousand-Man Force Arrays, but its range was limited.

A normal Mud cultivator could create only a small patch of mud; in a ten-thousand-man army, twenty or thirty men sinking into mud wouldn’t significantly affect the formation.

But this Mud cultivator technique wasn’t just the peddler’s—it was also released by Wulao Valley.

Thousands in the center formation sank into the mud, losing their positions in the formation.

Qiao Yi sank into the mud too, unable to pull his legs free; soldiers rushed to rescue him, but because the mud was too soft, they sank in with him.

The peddler suddenly rose, slapped the cart, and over a hundred kitchen knives flew out, wielding Blade cultivator technique, slashing and hacking through the enemy ranks.

The center formation was clearly collapsing; Qiao Yi hesitated whether to order the rear to advance and reinforce.

Taking advantage of Qiao Yi’s hesitation, the peddler swiftly activated Broken Path, carving a path through the chaotic formation.

The peddler’s Travel cultivator technique was terrifyingly powerful—soldiers who moved along the technique’s path survived; those who stood their ground were torn in half.

Qiao Yi, beneath his banner, wasn’t far from the technique’s path; if the peddler adjusted slightly, he could split Qiao Yi open.

Qiao Yi couldn’t dodge—he was stuck in the mud.

In panic, Qiao Yi cried for help from nearby soldiers.

Several soldiers rushed to rescue him, and sank into the mud with him.

A few others suddenly spat fire onto the swamp, drying a patch of it.

Seeing this, Qiao Yi stopped calling for help.

Sometimes Qiao Yi didn’t understand the Totem soldiers’ thinking—if they wanted to save him by this method, they’d burn themselves alive before drying the ground.

But the soldiers didn’t spray fire near Qiao Yi—they fired randomly across the swamp.

Qiao Yi still didn’t understand their intent—until he turned and saw the peddler smoking, his skin cracked like dried earth.

Having stayed in the valley too long, some soldiers had gained insight into countering Pact Contract techniques.

When Wulao Valley was injured in battle, the peddler suffered the same injury.

Normally, when Totem soldiers burned the ground, smashed rocks, pulled grass, or chopped trees in Wulao Valley, it didn’t affect the peddler.

But if the ground, rocks, grass, or trees were used by Wulao Valley as weapons in combat, then damage to them counted as battle damage.

The peddler bore the corresponding harm.

Earlier, the peddler used Mud cultivator technique—the mud on the ground was a weapon.

The mud was relatively resilient; cutting a slit or poking a hole didn’t count as damage.

But if you dried the mud’s water, turning it to soil and sand, that was severe damage—the mud suffered greatly, and so did the peddler.

He withdrew the Mud cultivator technique; the Travel cultivator technique was forced to halt; Qiao Yi freed himself from the mud and sand, and only then realized how close he was to the peddler.

He quickly retreated toward the rear, constantly shifting troops to shield himself from the peddler.

The peddler, wounded worse and surrounded, remained calm; beneath his feet, the mud froze instantly, shattering into ice shards that spun through the formation like arrows, carried by the wind.

Ice shards the size of fingernails pierced bodies; many soldiers paid no mind—they were far tougher than ordinary people, and stood on Thousand-Man Force Arrays; such minor injuries meant nothing.

Some soldiers were cautious and used techniques to block the ice shards.

Soon, they realized how wise that caution had been—the ice shards contained soil, and within the soil were seeds.

The seeds sprouted rapidly inside their bodies; grass began growing on many soldiers.

Grass blades pierced flesh, roots tore through organs—now the damage was severe.

Grass blades pierced through skin and flesh, their roots drilling through internal organs—this time, the damage was severe.

Qiao Yi watched the soldiers in the center formation collapse one after another, utterly baffled: just how many tricks did the Peddler still have left?

He had already used Cold Cultivation Art, Wind Cultivation Art, Arrow Cultivation Art, and Grass Cultivation Art.

Yet these methods weren’t exhausted—the green grass sprouting from the soldiers’ bodies quickly bloomed and bore seeds, which scattered wildly on the gale.

The seeds then pierced into the soldiers’ flesh and skin, and once inside, they took root and sprouted anew!

If this continued, the seeds would multiply endlessly, seemingly impossible to counter.

Qiao Yi recalled how, during the assault on Baiji County, an entire encampment had perished in precisely this manner.

“Shang You! Think of a solution!” Qiao Yi suddenly remembered Nian Shangyou, who had fought many brutal battles while serving in the army.

Nian Shangyou indeed had a plan—he had already reached another valley.

He felt this was perfectly reasonable: Qiao Yi had ordered him to find an escape route, so he had departed early, proving he understood the mission’s gravity and urgency; only by preparing thoroughly in advance could one seize the critical moment.

Nian Shangyou had fled; for the moment, Qiao Yi had no one else to rely on.

Unexpectedly, the Totem Army had a countermeasure—some soldiers with Body Cultivation Art grew hardened armor, shielding the others behind them.

The grass seeds had limited hardness and struggled to pierce most of the Totem Army’s Body Cultivation Art.

Just as the Peddler was pondering how to break through the armor, Wulao Valley suddenly cooperated, sending a vast hail of extremely hard tree seeds, propelled by the wind into the soldiers’ bodies.

The tree seeds sprouted rapidly, soon piercing through the soldiers’ flesh and skin.

Soldiers fell in droves; Qiao Yi was horrified.

The situation seemed overwhelmingly favorable, but the Peddler realized disaster was imminent.

Several soldiers seized their weapons and chopped down the trees sprouting from their own bodies.

Other soldiers followed suit, hacking at the trees growing on themselves.

Thousands of soldiers cut down the trees—the Peddler’s body was instantly riddled with countless wounds; his technique ceased immediately, and he collapsed behind his cart.

Success came through the Life Pact; failure came through the Life Pact.

The Peddler had relied on the Life Pact to share hatred with Wulao Valley, holding out against seventy thousand enemies, killing thirty thousand, all thanks to Wulao Valley’s aid.

But Wulao Valley’s recent assistance had nearly destroyed him.

The trees were the valley’s weapon; when they were cut down, they counted as battle damage, and the Peddler suffered grievous injury.

Already critically wounded, now struck by so many blows, he felt he might never rise again.

Qiao Yi’s eyes gleamed; he pointed at the Peddler and ordered the Totem Army: “Capture this man alive!”

Before the messenger could relay the order, a soldier, covered in wounds, charged forward: “The Eighteen Wheels are here!”

Qiao Yi was stunned: “Didn’t I send reinforcements to hold them off?”

The soldier shook his head: “No one came to reinforce us.”

Qiao Yi’s face turned pale with shock—he had definitely sent troops to intercept them. Why did this soldier say no one had come?

Had he not sent anyone?

Had he sent anyone?

Qiao Yi had genuinely forgotten to dispatch troops for the ambush.

Just as he was about to send them, the Peddler charged down the slope, and he became engrossed in combat, forgetting the ambush entirely.

How could he have overlooked such a crucial matter?

“Old Qiao, you’re getting old—your mind’s gone soft—”

Qiao Yi heard laughter.

The laughter came from the cart.

Could the Peddler still laugh?

When he charged down the hill, had the entire army fallen under his technique?

Was it because they were affected by his technique that they forgot the ambush?

What sect’s technique was this? Fool Cultivation Art? Mad Cultivation Art? Could the Peddler really use such arts? Weren’t those techniques guarded solely by the ancestral masters?

Qiao Yi pressed his fingertips to his brow, forcing himself to awaken.

What time was it now? The Eighteen Wheels were arriving—how could he waste thought on this?

Qiao Yi ordered: “Divide five thousand troops to intercept the Eighteen Wheels; the rest, follow me to find an exit!”

The Peddler was spent; Qiao Yi could see he could no longer fight.

Even if he could fight, it wouldn’t matter—his injuries were so severe, leaving just a few thousand troops here would be enough to kill him.

But they couldn’t waste time on him, couldn’t get entangled—no one knew what other tricks the Peddler might still pull.

“Old Qiao!” The Peddler rolled a cigarette and lit it. “Don’t waste your effort—the ambush isn’t needed. Listen: the old steam train is coming!”

From afar came the hissing sound of steam venting.

Were the Eighteen Wheels truly here?

Or was this the Peddler’s illusion?

“Ignore him!” Qiao Yi shouted. “Quickly follow me to find the exit!”

“No need to find an exit—I’ll open one for you.” The Peddler exhaled a cloud of smoke; the smoke shaped into an arrow and shot into the opposite slope.

The slope cracked open, the fissure widening slowly into a path.

On the other side of the path, faint figures could be seen.

Qiao Yi used his Scouting Art to examine closely—he saw a man in a black suit and black top hat sprinting toward them.

“Li Qi?” Qiao Yi recognized Li Banfeng’s silhouette, but he didn’t know if this was illusion or reality.

Was that truly an exit?

Why had Li Qi entered Wulao Valley?

What could one man accomplish?

He couldn’t fight as well as the Peddler—the Peddler lay here defeated; what could he possibly do?

This was a trap—it wasn’t an exit; it was the Peddler’s illusion. Never go!

Qiao Yi ordered his troops not to approach the exit, but the Totem Army, having fought two days in the valley, surged forward first.

Because they were closer, they could judge the exit was real.

Qiao Yi was furious—the Totem Army grew smarter with every battle, their minds sharpening on the field, adapting proactively to circumstances.

That was good.

But proactive adaptation came at a cost—they sometimes disobeyed orders.

As they passed the Peddler’s cart, none dared attack; all rushed toward the exit.

The Peddler bit his cigarette and slapped his cart.

Ding-ding-ding!

The rattle sounded a few times; raindrops fell from the sky.

Rain again?

Qiao Yi was terrified—he didn’t know if this was rain, oil, poison, or glue.

Soldiers around him shielded him from the drops; he noticed the rain falling on the ground was red.

This wasn’t rain—it was blood.

Where did so much blood come from?

The Peddler’s face was deathly pale; he took a drag on his cigarette.

Each drop of blood hitting the ground took root, sprouting a stone pillar.

One by one, stone pillars rose from the earth, forming a vast forest of stone.

To establish a pact, blood is required; with blood, the pact is formed.

Each person’s blood is unique—only blood carries one’s deepest sincerity.

This was Pact Cultivation Art: Blood Sacrifice as Alliance.

The Peddler had forged the highest pact with Wulao Valley using his own blood; as long as enough blood was spilled, Wulao Valley would unleash its full power for a short time.

This stone forest was the Peddler’s pre-planned tactic—though the cost was immense, it created the most unfavorable terrain for the Totem Army within the valley.

The massive Totem soldiers struggled to move within the stone forest, unable to form ranks.

Ordinary-sized men could move freely between the pillars, unaffected by the terrain.

Li Qi arrived on the battlefield, dashed into the stone forest, and rushed to rescue the Peddler.

Che Wushang arrived shortly after, lowered Hai Chi Laoche, and released the members of the Four Great Families and the Two Major Guilds.

Chu Huaiyuan, Zhang Xiuling, and Lu Chunying led their forces straight into the stone forest to fight the enemy; Ma Wu and Qin Tianjiu held the exit.

Miao-ao!

A steam whistle echoed through the valley—the Eighteen Wheels arrived with their forces.

Li Banfeng fought his way to the cart, knelt down, and supported the Peddler: “Brother, come on—I’ll take you somewhere to heal.”

The Peddler bit his cigarette and asked Li Banfeng: “Do you still have the snow cream I gave you?”

“Yes,” Li Banfeng remembered—the Peddler had given him two jars of snow cream before leaving, capable of healing wounds.

He had just pulled out the snow cream when the Peddler said: “When the snow cream is gone, don’t throw away the jars.”

“I won’t throw them away—I’ll keep them for you to heal with—”

Before he finished speaking, Li Banfeng noticed the Peddler had stopped moving.

The cigarette still clamped between his lips, his body motionless.

“Brother?” Li Banfeng called out.

The Peddler gave no reply.

Lu Qianjiao rushed over and grabbed the peddler: “What’s wrong with you? Talk to me! What’s really going on!”

Cries echoed, arrows flew, and the Totem soldiers fell one after another.

Master Shang Yuhui of the Spirit Cultivation Sect, Master Feng Xuanzhen of the Cloth Cultivation Sect, Founder Liu Hutian of the Alcohol Cultivation Sect, and Founder Bing Suling of the Cold Cultivation Sect all charged into the Stone Forest.

Ye Jianhuang, Qiao Wuzui, Gui Jianchou, and Song Qianhun ran even faster, circling around to the other end of the Stone Forest to block the exit.

Most of the Totem soldiers were trapped inside the Stone Forest, unable to move—these stone pillars could not be cut, shattered, or moved by any technique.

Master Zhen Luoming of the Spy Cultivation Sect shouted: “Brothers, this is the price the peddler paid with his life—let’s charge in and kill!”

He could see these stone pillars were formed from the peddler’s blood; he knew he had to say something human now.

He knew this was a perfect chance to gain fame and assert authority—the current situation was far easier than the battle at Wuyou Ping; the Totem soldiers trapped in the Stone Forest could be killed with a single gesture!

Some Totem soldiers desperately clawed their way out of the Stone Forest, trying to flee through the exit Li Banfeng had used; Hong Ying guarded the outer edge and killed one after another as they emerged.

Jiu’er quickly set up a magic array outside the Stone Forest, evading Hong Ying—but they still couldn’t reach the exit.

Several soldiers carried Calculation Cultivation techniques; together they calculated a path around the array, only to be blocked again by the Three Heroes Gate.

Qin Xiaopang charged ahead: “Brothers, follow me!”

Two soldiers unleashed Poison Cultivation techniques, releasing a cloud of poison to halt Qin Xiaopang.

Qin Xiaopang opened his mouth and swallowed the poison cloud whole, coughed twice, failed to fully digest it, and spat out nearly half.

It wasn’t his fault—he’d never encountered such a vicious Poison Cultivator before.

But the half he spat out ruined everyone else—the rest of the Three Heroes Gate couldn’t withstand such potent poison.

The Fifth Lady stepped forward and kicked Qin Xiaopang: “You useless waste!”

Qin Xiaopang was about to rage—but when he saw it was the Fifth Lady, he lowered his head and said nothing.

Li Banfeng had told him: this lady was a senior of his Dao sect, someone he dared not provoke.

The Fifth Lady opened her mouth and swallowed the poison cloud clean.

Seeing poison failed, the Totem soldiers hurled a wave of ink.

Before the ink could form characters, the Fifth Lady swallowed it clean.

Ranged attacks seemed useless against this woman—the Totem soldiers charged forward for close combat.

Close combat was indeed different—the Fifth Lady stepped forward and began eating; in the blink of an eye, over a dozen soldiers vanished down her throat.

Ma Wu stood beside her, stunned; he asked Feng Daiku: “Who is this person?”

Feng Daiku was equally dumbfounded: “I’ve never seen a Food Cultivator like this.”

Xiao Pang’s face turned deathly pale; he dared not look directly at the Fifth Lady.

The Fifth Lady coughed up several Xuan Yun Pills and shoved them into Xiao Pang’s hand: “Take them. Eat them. Improve your abilities.”

Using the Stone Forest to cut off and kill in turns, the Totem soldiers suffered heavy casualties.

Qiao Yi still had over ten thousand troops—if not for the Stone Forest creating such unfavorable terrain, if not for the exit forcing them into this trap, the battle wouldn’t be so dire.

He gathered several thousand men, forced his way out of the Stone Forest, and tried to leave the valley for another route—when suddenly, eighteen wheels of transformed fire trains, along with Tou Youlu, blocked the valley entrance.

Sun Tiecheng squatted beside the fire train, staring at Qiao Yi, pointing north: “Don’t go this way—it leads nowhere. Go the other side. Listen to me.”

Going north meant crossing the Stone Forest again—one in, one out—no one knew how many would die.

And going north meant charging straight into the pursuing forces.

Qiao Yi naturally wouldn’t listen to Sun Tiecheng—but he didn’t understand why the Fool City Lord had come here.

He’d sent scouts; Fool City had taken no action during this period.

Had the scouts lied to me—or had Sun Tiecheng lied to the scouts?

He’d think about this later—Qiao Yi ordered the Totem soldiers to repel the Eighteen Wheels and escape the valley first.

BOOM!

The mountain peaks on both sides collapsed, leaving wide exits.

The surrounding terrain changed violently; Qiao Yi no longer recognized the valley’s original shape and didn’t know which way to go.

Qiao Yi looked toward the peddler—the peddler still sat beside the cart.

Was this also part of his pre-planned tactic?

Li Banfeng stood up beside the peddler, turned to Qiao Yi, and pulled his hat low.