Chapter 51: Tian Peng, Tian Peng, Hai Zhu Wang Tao

Seven stars seal the mouth, dragon’s roar awakes; fangs stained in blood reveal the true spirit.

In the silent, dim room, beneath sheets of blinding white skin, Zhang Fan stood like a barrier before Jiang Lai, hands forming seals, chanting incantations, as a terrifying surge of energy arose.

That was the Nascent Soul returning.

That was true yang surging wildly.

That was the path of cultivation.

That was Daoist sorcery.

“Impossible… this cannot be… the great evil dragon vein sprouts fangs—how could a mortal move his Nascent Soul… how are you not suppressed!?”

He Fei stared wide-eyed at Zhang Fan, unable to believe what he saw.

Even though Jiang Lai had transformed her body into the Dragon Stabilizer, anchoring the dragon vein beneath Peach Source Square, the living sacrifice had been offered, the seven evil fangs fully exposed—under such qi, even cultivators could only be trapped like prisoners, their Nascent Souls forbidden to stir.

“His Nascent Soul…”

“Is abnormal!?”

Wen He and Jiang Hu exchanged glances, both seeing deep shock and incomprehension in each other’s eyes.

A normal person’s Nascent Soul could never manifest or return under the [Seven Evil Dragon Fangs], let alone Zhang Fan, who had only cultivated for so short a time!

“Zhang Fan…”

At that moment, Jiang Lai whispered.

“Let me handle it…”

Boom…

No sooner had the words left her lips than the entire room shuddered violently; bloodlight surged behind He Fei, forming a vast wave that slammed toward Zhang Fan.

“Zhang Fan…”

Jiang Hu’s face turned ashen, crying out in alarm.

“Tian Peng, Tian Peng, the Nine Yuan Fiend Child.”

“Wu Ding Regional Commissioner, Gao Diao North Elder.”

“Seven Administrations, Eight Spirits, Supreme Supreme Evil.”

“Long-skulled monstrous beast, clutching the Emperor’s Bell.”

…

At that moment,

The incantation began softly, yet echoed like thunderous grandeur, rising from the surging bloodlight, reverberating through the silent chamber, ringing in all their ears like a deafening clap.

“This is…”

At that moment, Jiang Hu’s pupils shrank sharply; his trembling face bore an expression of utter disbelief. His lips parted slightly, and only eight words escaped: “North Emperor Fiend Ghost, Tian Peng Divine Incantation!?”

…

Yujing City, High-Speed Rail South Station.

Bai Buran stepped out of the exit, pushing a suitcase, as Lao Yu had already been waiting.

“Boss…”

Lao Yu waved, hurried forward, took Bai Buran’s suitcase, and led the way to the open-air parking lot, where Wu Ling Hongguang had long been waiting.

“Has anything happened at home while I was away?”

As Bai Buran stepped out of the station, he instinctively looked up at the sky and asked casually.

“What could happen? Everything’s calm. Everyone’s fine.” Lao Yu patted his chest.

“Hm!?”

At that moment, Bai Buran suddenly stopped, staring at the sky, toward the direction of Peach Source Square…

Dark clouds gathered, obscuring the moon; the stars of heaven vanished, dim and lifeless.

“The Daoist arts have been passed for a thousand years—the North Heaven Dark Emperor’s first killing technique…”

“This is the North Emperor Art!?”

Bai Buran murmured softly, his usually casual, lazy face now etched with solemnity.

“Boss, what’s wrong?” Lao Yu asked, noticing Bai Buran’s expression.

“Something’s happened,” Bai Buran said gravely.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a fierce wind howled, shadows flickered like ghosts—and Bai Buran vanished from where he stood.

…

Peach Source Square, 13th Floor.

In the silent, dim room, Zhang Fan’s incantation grew ever grander and louder, making everyone’s eardrums ache; his hands formed seals, true yang surged, yet yin energy emerged, condensing into fiendish Sha .

“Su Xiao, Three Gods, commanding Kuilong,”

“Divine Sword King, slaying demons, erasing traces. Purple qi rides heaven, crimson clouds blaze and clash,

“Devouring demons, swallowing ghosts, charging through winds with body unyielding,

“Green-toothed, blue-tongued, the four-eyed old man.”

…

“North Emperor Art… this is the North Emperor Art… that man who fought the Yinshan Sect expert the other day—it was you?” He Fei’s face changed drastically, staring at Zhang Fan as if seeing him anew.

The Tian Peng Divine Incantation, the North Emperor Fiend Ghost Great Art, secretly contains the names of the Six Palaces of Fengdu’s ghostly deities—the North Emperor concealed its path. Should any mortal attain and practice this art eternally, they shall achieve immortality.

Since the early Tang, the North Emperor Art has been called the supreme killing art of the Daoist sects. Yet eighty years ago, during the Daoist Great Calamity, this lineage was utterly exterminated—how could a disciple still exist in this world, mastering this art!

“He mastered it? He actually mastered the North Emperor Art? How long has it been!?”

At this moment, Jiang Hu stared blankly at Zhang Fan, as if a voice roared inside his mind.

He had obtained this technique years ago from a master, studied it for years without ever entering its threshold—yet fate, in its mystery, had merely used him as a vessel to pass the art to Zhang Fan.

“Kill!”

He Fei roared, and the seven candles surrounding the earth pool flared fiercely; behind him, bloodlight surged, and the seven spectral dragon fangs shot out like a monstrous beast devouring prey, biting toward Zhang Fan.

“Tian Ding Warriors, commanding south to repel evil,”

“Tian Zou, fierce and wrathful, commanding north to ward off blades.”

“Three hundred thousand soldiers guard my nine layers,”

“Repel corpses for a thousand li, sweep away all misfortune,”

“Let no minor ghost dare appear before me.”

“Heaven-splitting Great Axe, slay demons in five forms.”

Zhang Fan stood firm, his incantation growing ever grander; he stilled his breath, knocked his teeth nine times, transformed his hand seals, chanted the Summoning General Incantation, visualized the Tian Peng General’s divine form, formed the [Tian Ding Seal], pressed his middle finger to his forehead to touch his eyes, then used the sword gesture to point, imagining electric light entering and exiting.

Boom…

At that moment, a violent sound erupted behind Zhang Fan; yin energy coalesced into Sha , a chaotic void—suddenly, two enormous, scythe-like fangs slowly emerged from within, their backs seemingly attached to a terrifying figure still hidden in the swirling yin Sha .

“Tian Peng Fang!?” Jiang Hu whispered, voice taut.

Legend says Tian Peng General has three heads and six arms, long skull and fangs, manifesting a wrathful form, wielding axe, bow, sword, bell, spear, and rope.

Chanting this divine incantation, practicing this great art, one may summon transformation, becoming the Tian Peng form.

The Tian Peng Fang is one such technique manifested.

Boom…

Bloodlight descended; the seven dragon fangs formed a killing formation, trapping Zhang Fan within.

“Tian Peng clears the path—only kill, never save!”

Zhang Fan roared fiercely; yin energy coalesced into Sha , the Tian Peng fangs slashed out like scythes, their violent, ferocious power tearing through the bloodlight—then the two fangs, unstoppable as a landslide, collided with the dragon fangs formed from blood.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Thunderous crashes echoed; the Tian Peng fangs surged with ferocity, shattering one dragon fang after another without resistance. In an instant, dragon roars rang in their ears, thick with fury.

“The North Emperor Art lives up to its name—how brutal it is!?”

Everyone’s hearts trembled, unable to accept this brutal, overwhelming scene.

Even though the evil dragon beneath Peach Source Square had been stabilized by Jiang Lai, these seven dragon fangs were no trivial matter—yet before Zhang Fan’s Tian Peng Fangs, they were like child’s play…

Boom…

With a final thunderous crash, the seven candles snuffed out; the seven dragon fangs within the bloodlight shattered, dissolving like smoke and mist into nothingness—even the dragon’s roar vanished as if it had never been.

The Seven Stars dimmed; the Dragon Fangs bound the mouth. “How could this happen…?”

He Fei spat a mouthful of blood, his face pale, staring at Zhang Fan in disbelief—he never dreamed he, the protagonist, could lose.

“How could I lose!?” He Fei gritted his teeth, hissing low. He turned to look at the earth pool, desperate to see if the dragon saliva he had longed for had been refined.

Pfft…

At that moment, a pale, slender hand, sharp as a blade, pierced through He Fei’s chest from behind, gently grasping his thrumming heart.

“The He family’s fate has truly ended. I guided you step by step, yet you still failed at the final moment.”

A soft, gentle voice echoed in the silent chamber, carrying a hint of indifference and resignation.

“Tian… Wang Tiantian… you…”

Zhang Fan stared at Wang Tiantian, slowly rising from the earth pool, her hand piercing He Fei’s chest, his face filled with astonishment.

“Good younger brother, let me reintroduce myself…” Wang Tiantian smiled sweetly at Zhang Fan.

“My name is Wang Tao!”

“Hai Zhu, Wang Tao!!!”

At that moment, the gentle voice abruptly changed, becoming deep and resonant.

(End of Chapter)