Chapter 102: Suddenly Appears the Divine Tiger Token

Bad, it’s the Soul-Binding Spell!

Wang Daoxuan silently cursed, but it was already too late.

He felt a suffocating pressure in his chest, his connection to the yin soldiers severed.

Wang Daoxuan’s face darkened—he knew the opponent had used some sorcery to bind and suppress his yin soldiers.

Though this little yin soldier was weak, only fit for reconnaissance, it was the first he had subdued, nurtured with care, and thus held deep affection for.

Who would have thought that merely checking a piece of information would cost him this one.

Though his heart ached, Wang Daoxuan knew this was the critical moment—he bit his middle finger, tapped a drop of blood onto the forehead of the Chunfeng Troupe’s statue, then bowed deeply.

“Heavenly soldiers, earthly soldiers, solar soldiers, lunar soldiers, water soldiers, fire soldiers, the Six Ding and Six Jia march with me! The talisman banner unfurls, summoning divine troops! Where evil strikes, wind rises, mist swells—divine troops, hasten by the law’s command!”

Saying this, he swung his talisman flag and spat a jet of saliva.

“Chi!”

With a puff, mist surged and enveloped the statue.

Instantly, yin winds howled around them; the burning spirit paper in the fire basins spiraled upward with a whistle, then vanished.

Undeniably, the deployment of the yin divine soldiers carried a far more formidable aura.

But at the same time, sweat broke on Wang Daoxuan’s forehead; his peachwood sword felt as heavy as a thousand catties, trembling uncontrollably.

Having taken the first blow, he had roughly sized up his opponent.

The opponent’s cultivation matched his own—both were at the First Story—but the man excelled in dark spells and incantations, their power formidable.

Wang Daoxuan’s cultivation stemmed from the Western Xuan lineage, a orthodox path focused on discerning fortune and misfortune, averting calamities, subduing evil spirits—fighting others with magic was not his strength.

Or perhaps his inheritance was incomplete.

If so, Wang Daoxuan immediately changed tactics—temporarily mobilizing the soldier-souls to stir up yin mist and disrupt the bandits’ vision.

Near graveyards at night, yin energy was thick, mist often shrouded the land.

This was because yin spirits absorbed yin poison, and with the damp, shadowed surroundings, mist formed easily; the spirits drifted within it, bewitching minds and possessing bodies.

Thus, many who encountered possession did so after noticing mist rising, then hearing voices call from within—mind confused, they were possessed.

This technique arose from precisely this phenomenon.

It was a relatively advanced altar technique; for Wang Daoxuan’s level, casting it was already strained, and adding the burden of commanding soldier-souls made it doubly difficult.

But Wang Daoxuan knew he must create an opening for Li Yan.

True enough, as the soldier-souls rode the yin wind past, white mist rose swiftly over the hundred bandits’ hiding spots, thick and hazy, completely obscuring their vision.

The autumn rain had just passed; the air was moist, making this technique even more effective.

“What’s going on?”

“Strange—how did mist appear out of nowhere?”

The hidden bandits panicked.

“Master, what’s happening?”

A man in the bandit crowd asked in a low, steady voice.

He was tall and broad, bald with no eyebrows, his face fierce, his frame massively built, clad in chainmail—though worn, it was genuine military armor.

In both hands, he gripped spiked club-hammers.

This man was Bai Yanhu, a notorious bandit from Shaizhou’s outlaw circles; originally a military captain, he was dismissed and exiled for brutality—killing civilians to claim enemy kills.

But this brute was fierce—he killed his escort guards mid-transit, returned home, retrieved his hidden armor, and took to the mountains as a bandit.

Having been military-trained, he understood tactics; combined with underworld skills, he evaded government raids repeatedly, modeled his gang after northern outlaw bands, founded the White Tiger Fortress, established four pillars and eight beams, becoming the largest bandit force on Niu Bei Ridge.

Tonight’s ambush plan was his own design.

Beside him, You Lao Si frantically scrambled, snatching up bone powder mixed with pine resin, chanting an incantation as he flung it toward the incense candles.

Boom! Boom!

Two bursts of flame spread, their heat rising—some of the mist dissipated, but soon enveloped them again.

Sweat beaded on You Lao Si’s forehead; he forced a nervous laugh: “This… the opponent somehow summoned soldier-souls that have received incense offerings—hard to deal with.”

“But don’t worry, Boss—this guy can’t control divine yin soldiers, only summon mist; he can’t harm anyone.”

“And using this technique must have drained him—he’s exhausted. Just find him and kill him…”

You Lao Si’s rapid explanations stemmed from pure panic.

He had seen Bai Yanhu’s methods—skinning victims alive, carving out bones and hearts—he was a mountain demon, unfit even to carry Zheng Heibei’s shoes.

A scornful voice came from Bai Yanhu’s side: “Big Brother, I told you not to trust these Jianghu sorcerers—they fail when it matters most, useless as hell.”

The speaker was a short, stocky man, face black as charcoal, with a lion’s nose and wide mouth, a Guanshan knife at his waist.

This man was Lü Heizi; originally a knife-wielding mercenary from Guanzhong, he was wanted after drunkenly killing a street vendor, then fled to the mountains.

He was the “Fu Bao Pillar” of the White Tiger Fortress.

This position was equivalent to Bai Yanhu’s personal bodyguard captain—a trusted confidant.

After suffering sorcery at Old Dragon Fortress, Bai Yanhu kidnapped You Lao Si from another gang and elevated him to “Tuo Tian Beam”—the role of strategist and yin-yang master.

Without a single achievement, yet granted such high rank, the old-timers naturally resented him.

“Ah~”

Bai Yanhu waved his hand: “We’re all brothers—don’t speak like that. Without Master You, how could we have spotted that hidden man?”

Though he said this, You Lao Si grew even more anxious—he bit his lip and hurriedly added: “Just a minor trick—Boss, watch me break his method!”

Saying this, he pulled from his robe a white token shaped like a tiger’s head, exquisitely carved, its back engraved with dense, intricate talismanic script.

A young man with narrow eyes nearby saw it and immediately lowered his head, hiding the hatred in his eyes.

You Lao Si didn’t notice—he gripped the token, formed the hand seals, stepped the Gang steps, and chanted: “Nuo Gao, left bearing the Three Stars, right bearing the Three Bonds, heaven overturned, earth inverted, all nine paths sealed—make you lose your mind, turn east to west, south to north…”

Li Yan, using the thick mist as cover, had just reached the bandits’ vicinity—he heard this incantation and froze.

Isn’t this the Thousand Gold Protective Spell?!

Before he could think further, a divine Gang surged upward from the mist.

Like a tiger descending the mountain, all beasts cowered—the yin divine soldiers trembled, recoiled violently with the yin wind, and vanished back into the statue.

Wang Daoxuan suffered equally—his spirit wounded, he spat blood, but clenched his teeth, swiftly pulled out a red cord, and wound it tightly around the statue in twisting loops.

Breaking the command of the soldier-souls wasn’t just a retreat—especially with such fierce spirits; if carelessly handled, they’d explode back and destroy the altar, dooming everyone nearby.

After finishing this, Wang Daoxuan closed his eyes and fainted.

“Master Dao!”

Sha Li Fei gasped, rushing to catch him.

…

On the other side, near the hidden bandits, the white mist vanished entirely.

“Hahaha!”

Bai Yanhu roared with laughter: “Master You, well done!”

His ambush strategy had failed—he no longer cared to conceal himself; his eyes blazed with malice as he shouted: “Boys, light the fire arrows—drive the sheep!”

“Kill! Kill!”

The bandits had been holding back too long.

Their boss was good at everything—except one flaw: he loved to cast himself as a legendary general, insisting on tactics for every move.

These were outlaws, lawless men—military discipline felt like chains; they preferred direct slaughter to clever schemes.

To kill, fire was essential.

“Fire arrows”—the bandits lit torches, nocked arrows, set their tips ablaze, then shot them slanting into the night sky.

Shhh-shhh-shhh!

In an instant, fire arrows rained through the air.

The biggest target, naturally, was the Changfeng Inn.

Though the Changfeng Inn was a Jianghu establishment, its location was remote—it used cheap materials, only enough to shield from wind and rain.

The inn was built of packed yellow earth, beams of charred wood, no tiles on the roof—only dry straw laid down for rain protection.

Now, with wind feeding the flames, the inn ignited instantly.

In the darkness, it blazed like a giant torch.

The travelers camping nearby weren’t surprised.

This was Jianghu wisdom: though inns offered comfort, they were defenseless against fire attacks—hence they camped outside.

Those who sought comfort paid the price.

!.

When the fire first broke out, those who panicked and ran out were immediately shot down—others scrambled back inside in terror…

Some clever ones lifted a heavy table as a shield and charged out; others became human torches, screaming as they rolled on the ground…

In an instant, flames roared, men shouted, horses neighed.

“Brothers, keep your eyes open—don’t let the rich targets escape!”

Bai Yanhu roared, charging forward with his spiked club-hammer.

After all, they were bandits—once they ran, chaos erupted.

Behind a tree trunk beside the road, Li Yan held his hand seals motionless.

He had nearly reached the bandits, but when Wang Daoxuan’s spell broke and the mist vanished, he had to retreat again behind the tree.

No choice—his Baopu Mountain-Climbing Technique blocked his qi from detection by sorcerers and yin spirits, but it wasn’t true invisibility.

Legend says Master Ge Xian used this technique to vanish completely—others saw only a single yarrow grass drifting, walking boldly past them without notice.

Li Yan naturally lacked such ability.

Fortunately, after the bandits lit their torches, the contrast of light and shadow made it impossible to see the surroundings clearly, let alone spot him behind the tree.

“Hurry! Help me dismantle the altar!”

Seeing this, You Laosi was frantic and immediately ordered those around him.

As the “Supporting Beam of Heaven,” a sorcerer with no martial skill, Bai Yanhu had assigned several bandits as his protectors.

But even though everyone moved quickly, they were already too late.

Now is the time!

Li Yan’s eyes flared with killing intent, and he dashed forward at once.

His movement broke the Baopu Ascending Mountain Technique, and You Laosi immediately spotted him, crying in terror: “Quick, stop him!”

Yet Li Yan’s charge had been carefully prepared.

He unleashed hidden power in his legs, lowered his body, swung the Guanshan Dao horizontally, and kicked up a spray of dirt as he shot forward like an arrow.

In less than a hundred meters, he arrived in two breaths.

The bandit protectors, holding torches, could not make out Li Yan’s form, but they sensed someone approaching rapidly.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

They drew their blades and blocked before You Laosi.

Puff!

One had just raised his blade when a dark shadow surged forward in the torchlight; a flash of steel severed half the front bandit’s neck, spraying blood.

“Kill!”

The two beside him swung their blades down at once.

But Li Yan raised his blade with his right hand, parried their weapons, twisted his body, shifted his shoulder, lifted his left elbow, and slammed it forward with full force.

Boom!

A heart-thrusting elbow strike shattered the rear bandit’s ribs; he flew three meters backward, collapsed on the ground, spitting blood, lifeless.

With just that one move, the bandits’ formation collapsed.

Li Yan then spun Shunshi , delivered a side kick to the bandit on his left, twisted his body, and thrust his blade backward, driving it straight into the abdomen of the bandit on his right.

Pfft!

He dragged the blade across, splitting the man open from belly to back.

These moves were not just a matter of skill gap—his ruthless brutality froze the surrounding bandits, who dared not advance.

You Laosi, now panicked, grabbed the white tiger-head token in his hand and frantically began chanting the Thousand Gold Bodyguard Spell.

Though he was unskilled in fists and feet, his spellcraft was refined.

Once the spell succeeded, it would damage Li Yan’s spirit.

Li Yan had long anticipated this; he focused his spirit and prepared to activate the Three Talismans Suppressing Demon Coin Tassel—not to injure, but to disrupt the spell.

But at that moment, a young man suddenly lunged out, tackling You Laosi to the ground and biting a chunk of flesh from his face.

“Ooh!”

You Laosi screamed in agony.

“Lin Hui, what are you doing!”

The nearby bandits roared in fury and stabbed their blade into his back.

The young man was Lin Hui, the traitorous disciple of Chen Yuan Daochang; after betraying Chen Yuan and stealing the Divine Tiger Token, he had fled immediately.

The one who had manipulated him was You Laosi.

But You Laosi’s promise to help him enter the Xuan Gate was a lie; after obtaining the Divine Tiger Token and the Thousand Gold Bodyguard Spell, he immediately fed Lin Hui a Gu poison, enslaving him as his spirit medium.

Being a spirit medium was never easy.

You Laosi used only dark arts, attaching all manner of foul things to him; often, when he woke from unconsciousness, his body was covered in wounds.

Lin Hui was patient and Rennai —otherwise he would not have stayed two years at the Medicine King Temple before revealing his true nature. He lived a life worse than death, feigning obedience to You Laosi, and now he had finally seized his chance.

Lin Hui?

So it was this bastard!

Though Li Yan was startled, his body did not pause; he unleashed hidden power, slashing left and right with the Guanshan Dao, spraying blood.

The bandits had already moved; the others on the other side still didn’t know what was happening—he had no time to dally, relying purely on hidden power to overwhelm them.

The bandits who blocked him felt a crushing force strike them; they could not hold their weapons and were shoved back, some with broken wrists, others with shoulders gushing blood.

Though not dead, they were rendered combat-ineffective.

Li Yan had now reached You Laosi; he kicked the man on top—Lin Hui—away, raised his blade, and slashed You Laosi’s throat, then snatched the token from his hand.

The bone token bore a carved tiger’s head on the front and inscribed talismans on the back.

It was the Divine Tiger Token lost from the Medicine King Temple.

As he seized the token, Li Yan sensed something hidden in You Laosi’s chest; he reached in, pulled out a yellowed ancient book bearing four large characters: “Seven Arrow Secret Spells.”

No time to read—he shoved it into his robe.

Just as he prepared to leave, the fallen Lin Hui rasped: “Save… save me…”

Li Yan turned instantly, plunged his blade into Lin Hui’s heart, and said coldly: “This blade repays you for Chen Yuan Daochang.”

Saying this, he turned and vanished into the darkness.

Across from him, torches blazed wildly, cries of battle erupted in chaos…

(End of Chapter)