Chapter 66: Chapter Sixty-Five: The Demon Vine Mountain

The direction Tan Ba’s finger pointed was none other than Tiankenggu, a famous spot in Wulong Mountain—a sunken pit spanning half a li in diameter, sinking over twenty zhang deep, and from the peak of Yünu Peak, it looked like a giant drum buried underground, except that the drumhead had been torn open.

Liu Xiaolou had once visited Tiankenggu; aside from its unusual terrain, there was nothing extraordinary about it—the pit’s bottom still teemed with trees and shrubs, and countless bats and venomous insects made their homes there, especially mosquitoes, making it unsuitable for long-term habitation, so no Wulong Mountain cultivator would choose to settle there.

But Tiankenggu was different now: a colossal vine had grown from the pit’s depths, rising several zhang above ground, towering like a mountain. Its long tendrils whipped and thrashed in all directions, claws outstretched; at its top, a monstrous head emerged, faintly visible with fierce eyes and a gaping mouth lined with sharp teeth.

Not just a mountain—it was a demon!

Liu Xiaolou’s eyes widened in shock; like Tan Ba, he stood dumbfounded, jaw slack—when had Wulong Mountain spawned such a colossal demon? He’d heard of demons, but never seen one in his life, let alone one this massive—he felt his chin might drop off.

More than a dozen mountain gods surrounded Tiankenggu, tall and short, large and small, each with distinct forms; only upon closer inspection did one notice a mountain god three zhang tall, wearing a golden crown wreathed in flame and a purple-gold jade belt, wielding a phoenix-winged golden halberd, locked in fierce combat with the demon vine.

Though this mountain god was less than one-eleventh the size of the demon vine, he moved with swift agility, darting and twisting with uncanny grace; despite the vine’s tendrils weaving a dense net, not a single strand touched him, while the flames spewing from his phoenix-winged halberd blackened the vines into thick smoke.

But the size disparity was too great, and the demon vine proved remarkably fire-resistant—each burned tendril regrew instantly, the vine-net grew denser and more precise, gradually forcing the mountain god into a desperate, perilous defense.

After watching for a long while, Tan Ba grew frantic, furious: “What the hell are the Qingyu Sect doing? Just standing by watching the tiger and the dragon fight? With a demon this massive, who cares about rules? Just swarm it and kill it! This is demon extermination!”

Since Wulong Mountain was their home, Liu Xiaolou shared Tan Ba’s thoughts—he only wished the Qingyu Sect would swiftly slay the demon, or how could they ever return home?

As for the three sects versus one sect feud—deal with that after the demon’s dead!

From Yünu Peak, the surroundings were clearer: Qingyu Sect’s top experts had gathered at Tiankenggu, while additional forces were stationed at the Northwest Half-Mu Gorge and the Southeast Gu Zhang Mountain as outer perimeter guards, and others were on Ghost Dream Cliff—but none were main forces; their focus was almost entirely on Tiankenggu, while they paid little heed to the three sects approaching from outside the mountain.

After watching longer, Liu Xiaolou suddenly understood: “Is Qingyu Sect training their disciples?”

Tan Ba also saw the pattern, murmuring: “Training like this? Truly a great sect…”

Liu Xiaolou pointed to Ghost Dream Cliff: “Tan Brother!”

On Ghost Dream Cliff, a golden-armored mountain god was climbing the cliff face; his towering form, over one zhang tall, made him unmistakably visible, and beneath his arm, he carried a man.

Upon reaching the stone cave at the cliff’s summit, the golden-armored mountain god set the man down; Qingyu Sect disciples guarding the cave’s entrance seized him, dragging and shoving him into the cave.

The man’s meridians were sealed—he could not resist. Before being shoved in, he turned his head, scanning the surrounding peaks, hoping someone would come to save him; but after only a few glances, a guard kicked him hard in the buttocks, sending him flying into the cave, out of sight.

The golden-armored mountain god’s glow faded, transforming into a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy who took the leather wine-skin offered by the guard and took a deep swig.

The guard bowed respectfully: “Young Master, you’ve worked hard.”

The boy replied: “Hardly hard—this fellow was stubborn. Even after seeing my true form, he dared resist. Took me some effort to subdue him.”

The guard chuckled: “Such wild cultivators are unruly—just kill them. Why bother capturing them? What use are they?”

The boy shook his head: “He didn’t confess anything useful—just pointed out a tunnel, claiming he’d earn merit. But Wulong Mountain is crawling with rats; we’ve already found ten or twenty such hiding spots. What’s special? His identity’s unknown—we’ll investigate him later.”

He turned to leave: “I’ll patrol again—keep the other sects from disturbing Brother Jing’s training. Oh, and there’s a rogue planning to meet someone on Yünu Peak—anyone know Yünu Peak? He didn’t clarify…”

The guard said: “Young Master, wait—I’ll go find a local wild cultivator who knows the area…”

Ghost Dream Cliff had sparse trees and little cover; Tan Ba saw clearly from Yünu Peak, his expression darkening: “Brother Hutou…”

Liu Xiaolou felt deep regret: “He was a good man—how did he get caught?”

Tan Ba’s eyes were slightly red: “Brother Hutou was a good man. I’ve known him barely a month, but he was bold, generous, fiery in spirit—a wandering wild cultivator with the bearing of a great sect. Associating with him left you awestruck!”

Liu Xiaolou deeply blamed himself: “It’s my fault—I shouldn’t have agreed to split up. He didn’t know the terrain—he was bound to be captured.”

Tan Ba said grimly: “War’s about to break out. Getting caught while scouting means they’ll treat him as a spy. Brother Hutou’s so bold and righteous—he’ll never talk. He’s doomed.”

Liu Xiaolou broke three twigs and stuck them into the ground: “Tan Brother, we’ve known each other—let’s pay our respects.”

The two bowed three times toward the twigs.

Their scouting mission was complete, their gains substantial—they should leave the mountain quickly to claim their reward. Just as they prepared to descend, a sudden upheaval erupted from Tiankenggu: the mountain god fighting the demon vine suddenly blazed with violet light, so intense that even atop Yünu Peak, Liu Xiaolou and Tan Ba couldn’t open their eyes.

As the violet light exploded, thunder rolled through the mountains, and the colossal demon vine shattered in the radiance, countless flaming vine fragments scattering in all directions.

The thunder shook their eardrums, leaving them momentarily deaf; they stared at each other in horror.

Tan Ba shouted something, his face twisted, but Liu Xiaolou couldn’t hear a word.

Liu Xiaolou shouted too: “Run—now—”

He couldn’t even hear himself. But the flaming fragments of the demon vine were hurtling toward them—he had to flee.

Who knew what damage such fire might do if it touched you?

A ball of flame descended over Yünu Peak, then exploded again; Liu Xiaolou and Tan Ba scrambled down the slope, rolling and crawling, each screaming— one yelled “Jump!”, the other “Aaah!”…

Liu Xiaolou felt a searing heat in his throat—as if something had slipped into his belly.

When they finally rolled down from Yünu Peak and found a secluded spot, Tan Ba bent over and vomited violently—a clot of bloody phlegm, inside which a single seed rolled and writhed like a living thing.

The seed wriggled for a moment, then dissolved into foam in the wind; Tan Ba gasped for breath: “Close call!”

Liu Xiaolou beside him cried out in panic: “Tan Brother—I can’t vomit it out!”