Chapter 72: Caught

Xu Yuan’s face showed no sign of discouragement; instead, he sprinted toward a certain location at top speed.

Then a long rope flew from his hand and plunged into the flesh carpet with a soft thud.

The flesh carpet writhed wildly, trying to absorb the beast-tendon rope into itself.

But it discovered that something always remained between the rope and itself, preventing true “contact.”

The tip of the beast-tendon rope was wrapped in a “skin dantian.”

The skin dantian could repel blades and swords, and also resist corrupting influences.

The beast-tendon rope plunged downward rapidly; Master Gao’s face lost its composure, tinged with confusion and a hint of panic as he shouted: “What are you doing?!”

Xu Yuan ignored it; the beast-tendon rope slithered like a spirit snake through the flesh.

At the same time, Xu Yuan fixed his “Viewing Fate” gaze tightly on that patch of flesh.

Since standing outside the bloody mist, Xu Yuan had already observed it with “Viewing Fate.”

Even the strange had a “fate,” but this strange’s fate was peculiar.

The vast anomaly had only a thin, slender thread of fate.

When Xu Yuan stepped into the bloody mist and saw the flesh idol, he understood: that thin thread of fate was hidden deep within the flesh idol.

Clearly, the key to resolving this anomaly lay in some object buried deep inside the flesh idol.

Xu Yuan did not act directly; he tried to extract that object from the flesh idol.

That would surely fail and expose his intentions prematurely.

Now, after careful preparation, he had finally created an opportunity.

Inside the flesh carpet, the flesh constantly writhed, shifting the clay statue to evade the rope’s grasp.

But the speed of the flesh’s writhing was ultimately slow.

Dozens of new tentacles sprouted across the flesh carpet, frenziedly biting at the tendon rope.

Xu Yuan spat out his sword pellet and swiftly severed the tentacles.

At the same time, the beast-tendon rope coiled around his right arm; in one hand he held a small knife, in the other a three-eyed pistol, both deployed with all his strength to block and protect the rope.

The beast-tendon rope slithered like a serpent, feinting and striking, tightly entangling the clay statue.

Xu Yuan roared and pulled his arm upward with all his might.

The flesh carpet clung desperately to the clay statue.

Both sides struggled against each other.

The flesh carpet was massive and far stronger; its three-li expanse gripped the earth firmly. For Xu Yuan to pull out the statue, he would have to uproot the entire mass from the ground!

That was impossible.

Yet on the beast-tendon rope, the skin dantian suddenly extended, enveloping the clay statue!

The statue instantly separated from the flesh carpet!

It was like a tug-of-war rope snapping—Xu Yuan was flung backward, carrying the beast-tendon rope and the statue, flying dozens of zhang before regaining his footing.

Xu Yuan did not pause; the beast-tendon rope retracted, drawing the clay statue to his front.

He opened his mouth: huuu—

Fire roared from his abdomen!

The clay statue twisted in agony, turning from hard clay into a soft lump, constantly shifting to evade the flames.

The flesh carpet curled and flattened, like a thick dough skin being mercilessly kneaded by invisible hands.

As time passed, decay began to appear on the flesh carpet.

Once it started, it became uncontrollable; vast patches of decay spread.

The dark red, writhing flesh turned black-gray, losing all vitality, then stiffened, dried, and finally shattered into charcoal-like fragments.

Master Gao’s face remained on the flesh carpet, like a leaf adrift on a stormy sea.

It was tossed up and slammed down; neither the storm nor the ocean cared for such a leaf.

On Master Gao’s face, not a trace of arrogance or mockery remained—only terror, fury, and disbelief: “How could this happen?!”

“There’s no explanation for this!”

“This boy is at most an eighth-rate…”

More than half of the three-li flesh carpet had decayed!

All the things swallowed by the flesh carpet began to fall out—such as the harquebus.

The range of the bloody mist shrank drastically.

The remaining corrupted flesh gathered into a single massive blood-serpent, lunging at Xu Yuan in midair, trying to reclaim the clay statue.

…

The county yamen had long since become ruins.

Every strike from the Ten-Zhang Evil sent tremors through the entire ground.

Fortunately, Ming subjects held an innate reverence for the “county yamen”; no residents lived within twenty zhang of it, yet hundreds of houses farther away had already collapsed from the shaking.

Countless people would be homeless after this night!

Ma Tianshou’s vision swam with golden stars; his arms were numb, sustained only by sheer willpower.

His arms and legs, his clothes, had long since torn into ragged strips.

Every step Ma Tianshou took felt as if iron and lead had been poured into his legs—heavy and stiff.

Ma Tianshou felt he might collapse under the next strike.

The rain had lessened; Ma Tianshou saw Master Ji standing atop a distant rooftop, sword on back.

Master Ji did not come to help Ma Tianshou and end him quickly.

He dared not, because the Ten-Zhang Evil was “indiscriminate”—if he approached, the Evil would strike him too.

“Chen Liangxuan is truly a traitor to the nation!” Ma Tianshou seethed inwardly.

Had he unleashed the Ten-Zhang Evil to sacrifice tens of thousands of innocent townsfolk?

The old magistrate summoned his last strength, raising the guillotine—before him, the Ten-Zhang Evil charged on horseback, its massive iron sword descending heavily from above.

CRASH!

Ma Tianshou suddenly felt something was wrong: this strike’s power was much weaker…

Then Ma Tianshou saw the Ten-Zhang Evil suddenly withdraw its sword; its iron steed galloped, flames surging, racing toward the city’s outskirts.

“What happened?” The old magistrate paused in confusion, then suddenly realized: “Master Yan has succeeded!”

“Now is the time to pursue and harass the Evil, preventing its easy escape!”

Ma Tianshou heaved the dog-head guillotine, summoning his last courage to chase—then stumbled, his back’s “strength” talisman exploding into fragments.

The dog-head guillotine crashed down, thudding heavily and pinning the poor old magistrate beneath it.

“Cough, cough, cough…” Ma Tianshou coughed blood, sighing helplessly.

Fu Jingyu hurried over and lifted the dog-head guillotine off his master.

Master Ji stood atop the rooftop, his eyes flickering.

This was a perfect chance—kill Ma Tianshou!

Fu Jingyu moved the guillotine away but did not help his master up; instead, he stood beside the guillotine, gripping its handle with both hands.

Then he gazed calmly and resolutely at Master Ji.

Fu Jingyu was not badly wounded; he still had the strength to lift the dog-head guillotine and fight.

Master Ji hesitated, leapt from the rooftop, and strode toward Fu Jingyu; Fu Jingyu raised both hands— Ca —the thick blade rose, its edge flashing brilliant white light, sweeping across Master Ji’s eyes.

Master Ji’s eyes narrowed slightly; his pace slowed, finally stopping twenty zhang away.

Fu Jingyu stood calm and steady, like a thousand-zhang ancient abyss.

Master Ji stared for a moment, then turned abruptly and strode after the Ten-Zhang Evil.

Ma Tianshou smiled, blood seeping from his lips: “He’s grown old, no longer the fierce warrior of his prime!”

Fu Jingyu released his grip, his body collapsing from exhaustion.

The guillotine fell; Fu Jingyu collapsed too—Ma Tianshou strained every last ounce of strength to pull his student back, or else Fu Jingyu’s torso would have been sliced in half by the blade!

Failing to slay the Evil, yet killing an official first… this would be a major scandal.

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(End of Chapter)