Chapter 418: Furious Demon Fog

Li Yan and the others knew well the terror of the yao sheng.

This thing is a rare kind of "sha," born only under extreme circumstances, and exceedingly difficult to deal with.

Outside Chang'an City, in the Gu Du Town, it arose from a blood curse, transforming into the demon bird Luoshami, moving without trace—anyone who encountered it died in the most horrific manner…

Upon Mount Hua, the "sheng" transformed into Feiyi, devouring spirit trees and absorbing the qi of the drought demon…

Li Yan later specifically researched it.

There are five colors of "sheng": green, red, yellow, white, and black, corresponding to the Five Elements.

The one that gave rise to Feiyi was the "green sheng," capable of destroying spirit trees—no matter the type, it was extraordinarily tenacious.

Xie Chengzu's ritual was one of communication and negotiation.

This technique is common; when confronting malevolent spirits, brute force often results in mutual destruction or endangers the host.

Persuading them to depart through negotiation is usually the best choice.

But yao sheng does not fall into this category.

It is a primordial evil of heaven and earth—its strike means death!

"Stop immediately!"

Without hesitation, Li Yan rushed forward to intervene.

Unfortunately, Xie Chengzu's ritual resembled primitive shamanism; both he and his disciples were now lost in a trance.

Clang!

Seeing Li Yan charge toward the altar, the old man rolled his eyes back, snatched the steel trident from the altar, and shook the bells in a threatening gesture.

And at that moment, the thick fog surged toward them.

Instantly, fierce winds howled all around.

"Get out!"

Li Yan's eyes flashed with killing intent; he raised his hand and summoned the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

He could smell that cold, nauseating stench everywhere—appearing and vanishing, surfacing from every direction.

The best weapon against such formless malevolence was naturally the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

The chains clinked as they darted up and down.

Though invisible, the chain stirred the fog like a transparent giant hand—either dispersing it or forcing it to recoil.

Yet the fog was too vast, nearly covering the entire sky, and soon engulfed the surrounding area.

Hoo~

White mist howled like a living thing, surging and boiling as it poured directly into Xie Chengzu and his disciples' mouths.

Their bodies twisted grotesquely, bending forward, backs hunched, heads drooping—clearly possessed.

"You all retreat!"

"Master Dao, activate the array!"

At Li Yan's shout, Wang Daoxuan and the others immediately withdrew into the courtyard.

Fortunately, the thick fog did not target them—it was drawn to Xie Chengzu and his disciples, taking full control of them.

"By nature of heaven and earth, impurities disperse; within the cavern lies mystery…"

"Heaven's gate opens, earth's door closes; let man, ghost, and deity remain—I invoke the True Lord of One Qi, swiftly as the decree!"

Wang Daoxuan had returned to the altar and swiftly formed hand seals to activate it.

Outside the Zhang family mansion, fierce winds howled again; the red strings and copper coins pre-placed began to jingle.

Moreover, the Five Directions Luo Feng Flags were activated; from five surrounding regions, yin energy immediately rose.

The Five Directions Luo Feng Flags are ritual implements; though they station five battalions of yin soldiers and possess great power, they require an altar to be activated.

Li Yan's ears filled with the sound of clanking armor—the yin soldiers moved out, dispersing all the thick fog around the Zhang mansion.

Yet he had no time to pay attention to it.

Inside the fog, Xie Chengzu and several disciples stood motionless, heads bowed, backs bent.

Their necks slowly twisted, controlled by some force, as if being forcibly snapped.

What a ferocious thing!

Li Yan no longer held back; he unleashed hidden power from his feet, as if shrinking distance into a single step, appearing instantly beside Xie Chengzu.

"Roar!"

He suddenly lifted his head—his eyes had turned pure white, veins bulging across his face—as he lunged for Li Yan.

But the moment he raised his hand, he froze in place, eyes rolling downward, pupils reappearing, becoming dull and vacant.

The Soul-Grabbing Chain had suppressed his soul.

Including whatever dwelled inside him!

Li Yan could smell a foul stench on the old man—not the odor of beasts, but something mineral, saltily overwhelming.

Sizzle!

Li Yan swiftly formed hand seals and unleashed the Northern Emperor's Yin Thunder Palm; arcs of lightning danced across his palm as he slammed it onto the old man's forehead.

The Northern Emperor's Yin Thunder Palm specifically countered souls.

Hoo~

Unable to withstand the yin thunder's power, Xie Chengzu suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a foul, briny fluid, then collapsed with a thud.

Li Yan seized his collar, exerted force, and flung him backward—he landed directly inside the Zhang family mansion.

He then repeated the same method to rescue another.

Surrounding white fog surged toward him, attempting possession—but the Soul-Grabbing Chain whirled, scattering every tendril.

Swish!

Xie Chengzu's remaining disciples, realizing they could do nothing against Li Yan, suddenly turned and vanished into the thick fog.

Li Yan narrowed his eyes but did not pursue.

The strangeness of this "Fog Guest" had surprised him—the main force had not yet appeared; he dared not be lured away.

Hoo!

The wind grew louder, the fog denser, reducing visibility to nothing—even his spiritual senses were suppressed.

What an uncanny thing!

Li Yan grew even more cautious.

Such conditions occurred only in orthodox Daoist sects that had venerated folk deities for centuries and possessed immense power.

Other malevolent spirits—even dragons—lacked such ability.

Yet this foe could not overcome his Soul-Grabbing Chain.

It was truly strange…

Li Yan harbored doubts but kept moving, using the Soul-Grabbing Chain to disperse fog as he retreated backward.

The fog seemed enraged, unwilling to let him leave.

Strange sounds echoed in his ears; illusions of light and shadow danced before him—bamboo groves, mountain paths appeared within the mist.

Even the shadow of the Zhang mansion now appeared on the opposite side.

Like a ghostly maze, yet enhanced by illusion through the fog.

Li Yan realized: the civilians lost in the fog must have been deceived by this very trick.

Yet this trick had no effect on him.

The Soul-Grabbing Chain whipped, forcing back the fog, preventing further interference with his senses.

Most importantly, once the fog scattered, the ground's traces remained truthful—and he was still only meters from the Zhang mansion.

Li Yan easily retreated into the compound.

The Zhang family mansion had been fortified by Wang Daoxuan's array, guarded by the five battalions of yin soldiers from the Five Directions Luo Feng Flags—the surrounding fog could not penetrate, so visibility remained clear.

Yet outside, the white fog was so thick one could not see a hand's breadth; inside, lanterns and candles blazed brightly, casting an eerie glow.

As if fallen into a dream—or the netherworld.

"Young Master Li!"

Sha Li-fei hurried forward, face pale with fright: "One blink, and you vanished—couldn't see a thing in the fog—I thought I was done for!"

"It's fine. Don't go out."

Li Yan gave a deep look at the thick fog outside.

He could faintly hear the clanking of armor and clashing weapons—the yin soldiers' frost spread outward, holding the fog at bay, but no further. The strength of the troops depended on two conditions.

First, the origin of the yin soldiers: troops formed from wandering ghosts were vastly inferior to fierce chang soldiers.

Even among chang soldiers, there were ranks.

The highest were those born from ancient battles—like the soldiers who died in Emperor's war against Chiyou, who once defeated heavenly spirit troops, though long since vanished into history's dust.

Second, the Gangsha qi used to command them.

A single soldier is useless; but when gathered in numbers, they generate a torrent of Gangsha qi, like a raging flood.

Hence, the appearance of yin soldiers always brings howling winds and sudden drops in temperature.

Thus, orthodox Daoist sects either keep their troops in City God temples or in famous mountains, great rivers, or sacred grottoes.

Simply put, it's about the height of the energy field.

Li Yan's group had prepared hastily; the Zhang mansion was no sacred site—just holding off the threat was already a blessing.

!.

If one could harness the power of the netherworld, Jin Yangping and its surroundings would be utterly swallowed by darkness—no demon or monster could escape death.

This is the difference between using a Gangling and raising your own troops.

After giving instructions, Li Yan hurried into the main hall.

The remaining Zhang family servants along the way trembled violently, kneeling on the ground and praying to heaven nonstop—Zhang Sibei included.

This terrifying sight had long surpassed their understanding.

Li Yan paid no attention to them, instead checking on the two he had rescued.

Xie Chengzu's disciple had just slowly regained consciousness, his face pale and eyes vacant—he clearly hadn't recovered yet.

Meanwhile, "Earth Elder" Xie Chengzu clenched his teeth, his face flushed and burning, his whole body trembling, fists clenched, muttering incessantly, repeating the same few phrases over and over.

Unfortunately, Li Yan and the others couldn't understand a word.

Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly. "He's been haunted. He's having a hysterical episode—like a stroke. No spell can save him."

This is the danger of being a spellcaster.

Xie Chengzu is already elderly. Ordinary rituals are fine, but when struck by a demonic affliction, his body simply couldn't withstand it—he suffered a stroke.

Even if he wakes up, he'll likely be left with facial paralysis and hemiplegia.

Listening to the repeated words from his mouth, Li Yan frowned and grabbed the disciple by the collar, coldly saying: "Wake up! Listen to what your master is saying!"

The disciple snapped back to his senses, saw his master's condition, forced back his grief, and pressed his ear close to listen carefully.

Soon, his face turned pale. He turned and said: "My master is speaking in his hometown dialect. He's saying: 'Please, Salt Water Goddess, forgive us…'"

"Salt Water Goddess?"

Li Yan frowned. "Who is this deity?"

The disciple, clearly terrified, stammered: "The Salt Water Goddess is one of the goddesses our Tujia people worship."

"Our ancestors were the White Tiger Lord, named Ba Wuxiang. After unifying the five clans, seeking survival, he led his tribe to migrate."

"When they reached Yan Yang, they met the Salt Water Goddess. She fell in love with the Lord and begged him to stay. But the Lord believed Yan Yang couldn't sustain the entire tribe—he wanted to press on…"

"To keep the Lord, she met him secretly each night, and by day transformed into flying insects and thick fog, blotting out sun and sky, halting their journey…"

"To escape, the Lord tied a strand of blue hair to the goddess at night, then killed her the next day—dispelling the fog and allowing the tribe to continue."

He spoke, eyes filled with dread: "We've worshipped the Salt Water Goddess for generations… but the fog, the swarms of insects—those are her signs."

"This is her revenge. We were performing rites to honor the Lord just now…"

As he spoke, his eyes were wide with terror—he was beginning to babble.

"What kind of nonsense is this?"

Sha Li Fei said helplessly: "The goddess favors you, then kills you outright. No wonder she's seeking revenge."

"This isn't so simple."

Wang Daoxuan mused: "I've heard fragments of this legend. Yan Yang lies in southern Hubei—it was once a Tusi city, originally the territory of the Salt Water Tribe, tied to the Witch Xian Kingdom."

"After the Ba Kingdom rose, it grew rich and strong by borrowing Witch Xian's salt-boiling techniques. Witch Xian gradually declined and vanished. Ancient history is unclear, but there must have been fierce struggles…"

"We'll discuss this later."

Li Yan waved his hand, speaking gravely: "Master, help me set up the altar. Use the Northern Emperor's Exorcism of Misfortune to disperse the fog."

"Agreed!"

Without hesitation, everyone hurried to the ritual altar.

Wang Daoxuan assisted, removing the deity statue and purifying the altar anew, while Li Yan placed the "Fengdu Command" tablet upon it.

He stepped the Nine Stars, held the summoning scroll, and chanted: "Qing Jia! Heaven grants salvation, sternly restraining the Northern Feng. The Divine Lord receives the mandate, sweeping away all ill fortune. Eight Warnings spew poison, fierce steeds spread wide. Heavenly soldiers lead the way, the Great General bears the banner…"

The Northern Emperor's Exorcism of Misfortune can resolve spirit possession and dispel malevolent qi; with the altar and the Five Directions Fengdu Flags, its power is amplified.

But dispelling malevolent qi of this level is clearly no easy task.

Li Yan continued chanting and forming seals. Outside the Zhang estate, the yin soldiers surged forth, colliding with the fog, while subterranean yin energy rose to reinforce them.

In an instant, fierce winds howled and fog churned violently.

This display left "Fast Boat Zhang" stunned.

He knew Li Yan was formidable—within a short time, he'd risen to fame in both the martial world and the Daoist sects.

But he never imagined he possessed such immense power.

He didn't know that Li Yan could achieve this only because of the Five Directions Fengdu Flags. Without them, at least ten others would be needed to perform this.

As Li Yan chanted, his ears twitched slightly. He frowned, puzzled.

He could hear countless voices in the fog—angry, venomous screams.

Wasn't this the Salt Water Goddess? Why did it sound like others?

Though puzzled, his hands never stopped.

After three incense sticks burned out, the fog finally dispersed.

The night sky cleared, the bright moon shining high.

"Li Shaoxia's Daoist arts are powerful!"

"Fast Boat Zhang" sighed in relief and hurried to flatter him. Zhang Sibei collapsed onto the ground, face etched with the relief of barely surviving.

Yet Li Yan and Lu San wore grim expressions.

They pushed open the courtyard gate and hurried outside.

The entire village was silent—no birdsong, no insect chirps, no dog barks. The surrounding homes lay dark and lifeless.

Li Yan's face darkened. He swiftly approached nearby homes.

The courtyard gates stood wide open. Inside, the rooms were in disarray. On the ground were four footprints—three large, one small—all made by toes, leading straight out the door, toward the deep mountains.

The entire village was empty.

"Hee hee hee…"

Suddenly, Li Yan's ears twitched.

He heard a child's eerie laughter from the darkness.

"No good!"

Li Yan spun around, unleashed hidden force, and in two swift steps—like shrinking distance—he appeared outside the Zhang estate.

After prolonged combat, the yin soldiers had been depleted and returned to the Five Directions Fengdu Flags, leaving no defense.

Outside the gate, a figure walked with stiff steps, head bowed, moving quickly away—it was Zhang Sibei.

His eyes were vacant. His left hand hung in midair, as if pulled forward by some unseen force…

Second chapter, afternoon

(End of chapter)