Chapter 447: Ambush of Demons in the Cave

Li Yan himself found this idea absurd.

Ma Santong is one of the Seventy-Two Demon Lords.

He is an ancient spirit, unyielding even through the Divine War, only sealed beneath Luo Feng Mountain—an immortal, indestructible being.

Li Yan did not know what these Demon Lords represented.

But he knew the Master of Qingniu Temple would surely fail.

"Let's go—the other side is likely already dead."

Li Yan gripped the Gou Die and led the way ahead.

This cave was likely the relic of an even older tribe, occasionally littered with pottery shards and countless animal bones devoured long ago.

Its many passages must have once housed countless people.

Especially within the cave, the thick fog and miasma grew denser; even with torches lit, visibility extended no more than two or three meters.

Fortunately, the Gou Die continued to point the way.

Li Yan led the group swiftly into the fog…

Not long after they left, three figures appeared at the cave entrance—the three hermit immortals of Wushan.

"What do we do?"

"Don't rush. Wait until they've settled matters with the demon—then we enter, lest the thing snatch a body for itself…"

…………

Carrying the group, Li Yan pressed forward.

The Gou Die's sensing grew increasingly distinct.

Suddenly, Li Yan raised his hand.

"Found it?"

Chongxu Zi frowned and asked softly.

"Yes, right ahead—something's off."

Li Yan stared at the thick fog ahead, his heart pounding.

He had absorbed several streams of escaped demonic qi before, but never had he felt such relentless, mounting dread as now.

Huh~

At that moment, chilling winds erupted around them.

The miasma and fog churned as if stirred by invisible hands, swirling violently above and below.

"Watch out!"

Li Yan spun around and drew his blade, stabbing toward the right.

But it was too late.

"Ahh—!"

One of the accompanying Daoists vanished.

An invisible monster lurked in the mist—the young Daoist gave only a single scream before falling utterly silent.

The others rushed forward but found nothing.

"Forget him—keep moving!"

Li Yan gritted his teeth and pressed ahead.

He knew this thing aimed to stall them, to instill fear—otherwise it wouldn't target only the weakest.

The Master of Qingniu Temple must already be at a critical moment.

Indeed, after advancing less than twenty meters, the fog vanished instantly, and the view cleared.

Seeing the scene ahead, everyone froze.

Before them stood a stone tripod.

The tripod stood about five meters tall, its material seemingly carved from naturally formed stalactites—ancient in form, even somewhat crude.

The gorge and other areas of the cave were shrouded in miasma, thick with a cloying, fishy stench—but here, the air was unnaturally fresh.

A hidden blessed cavern!

Li Yan immediately understood what this place was.

Sacred mountains and great rivers, shrouded in primordial gang qi, where spiritual orifices converge—these are called Caves of Heaven and Blessed Lands by the Xuan Gate.

Caves of Heaven rank higher; Blessed Lands are secondary.

Either kind is vital to cultivators.

The Xuan Gate cultivators journeyed across Shenzhou, ranking thirty-six Caves of Heaven and seventy-two Blessed Lands—but these were not the only ones.

Some remained unknown.

Here, one was hidden.

Boom—boom—boom~

Amid the grinding of stone, the tripod's lid slowly shifted, revealing the head of a Daoist—hair disheveled, pitch-black as ink, face like white porcelain, features strikingly beautiful.

"Brother… Brother?"

Chongxu Zi's eyes widened, disbelief etched on his face.

Li Yan frowned slightly, also puzzled.

According to Chongxu Zi's description, the Master of Qingniu Temple should have been ancient, his Dao profound but lacking the foundation to attain Earth Immortality.

Yet this man clearly appeared no older than thirty.

Could true reversal of aging truly exist?

"Hahaha…"

The Daoist laughed: "Brother, I've succeeded."

Chongxu Zi's lips trembled, his face flushed crimson, voice quaking: "Brother, what… what have you done?"

The Daoist sighed: "All was fate."

"I had long abandoned cultivation toward Earth Immortality—after all, Qingniu Temple lacks a Cave or Blessed Land, nowhere near the depth of Qingcheng's heritage."

"But several years ago, torrential rains and floods unearthed this cave, revealing to me this ancient relic—and the primordial Blessed Land within."

"The ancient shamanic arts here were exceedingly difficult—but I happened to know a secret…"

"Er Zhu Xian, one of the Eight Immortals of Shu, lived during the late Tang and Five Dynasties, known as Guiyuan Zi. He wagered with a governor, was sealed in a bamboo cage, drifted downriver to Wuxi, and ultimately merged Dao and Religion, ascending to godhood."

"Legend says his alchemical tripod was a massive stone like a bell, resting on three legs—only through this vessel did he gain his opportunity. I searched tirelessly to find it."

"With this tripod, I can refine the demonic qi, purge evil and retain the true, attaining its primordial Qi…"

Chongxu Zi angrily interrupted: "So you sent Kumu to infiltrate Qingyang Palace, set fire, steal the treasure, and frame your own disciple?"

"Ah~"

The Master of Qingniu Temple sighed: "Brother, the human world is changing. Qingniu Temple lacks the depth to resist its decline."

"I did this not for myself, but to preserve this remnant body to protect our sect, to pave the way for future generations."

"The 'Purple Qi Treasure Box' is meant only for the Master—I left it for you deliberately, in case I fell to demonic influence and could no longer control myself…"

Chongxu Zi listened, uncertain whether to believe.

"Ridiculous!"

Li Yan suddenly spoke: "Demons excel at bewitching minds. Once greed takes root, they weave lies for you. These excuses are flimsy—surely you yourself have doubted?"

The Master of Qingniu Temple shook his head: "What do you know, youngling? The demonic qi has been refined by me—it will no longer trouble."

"Oh?"

Li Yan narrowed his eyes: "Then why not show your full body?"

By his nature, he would never waste words—he'd strike first, send the foe to Youming without hesitation.

But a complication had arisen.

He did not know what method the old Daoist had set up within the Blessed Land—since entering, the Gou Die had gone silent.

He must provoke the old man into leaving the Blessed Land.

True to form, upon hearing Li Yan's words, the old Daoist's face darkened instantly. Chongxu Zi also trembled: "Brother, you say you haven't fallen—show us your body…"

The Daoist fell silent for a moment, then slowly rose.

The interior of the tripod was cramped—he had been crouching inside; now standing, his upper body was fully exposed.

"Brother…"

Chongxu Zi's voice trembled, his eyes filled with shock.

The Master of Qingniu Temple's head and neck appeared normal—but below the neck, his skin had vanished; muscles and membranes glowed crimson.

Li Yan saw it and instantly understood, sneering: "Fool. You didn't refine the demonic qi—you were refined into a vessel by Ma Santong."

"Where is your skin? Did he turn it into a talisman?"

"Your thoughts are his implants—you've been possessed and don't even realize it."

"Shut up!"

These words struck a nerve.

The Master of Qingniu Temple let out a roar, clutching his head in agony, muttering: "You lie—I've refined him! These are my own thoughts, all my own thoughts…"

Then he snapped his head up, his handsome face now crisscrossed with veins, eyes blazing crimson.

A flash of bloodlight—and the Master leapt from the tripod, forming a hand seal and spewing a jet of black demonic energy, pointing his sword gesture.

Chii!

The ground was gouged by a deep sword scar, radiating intense cold; frost crystallized around them, forcing everyone to retreat.

"Brother, look!" laughed the abbot of Qingniu Monastery, his eyes bloodshot and urgent: "The Heavenly Gang Finger Qi Technique—the orthodox Daoist method—I can still use it! I haven't succumbed to demonic corruption."

Chongxu Zi's face darkened; he no longer bothered with words, sighing: "Young friend, strike now."

Li Yan: "..."

Chongxu Zi sensed something amiss: "Something wrong?"

Li Yan gritted his teeth: "Your elder brother is merely a puppet—using dark arts to prolong his life. His skin is the true host. Get out first!"

He wanted to kill this man first, but something about this place—no matter how he tried—the soul-binding tally showed no reaction.

Swish!

At that moment, the frenzied abbot of Qingniu Monastery charged forward.

His speed was terrifying—a crimson shadow.

As if his secret had been exposed, rage clouded his mind; he ignored everyone else and lunged straight at Li Yan.

"Come then!"

Li Yan showed no fear; his right hand's Dust-Cutting Blade crackled with lightning, while his left hurled the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

!.

But now that the abbot of Qingniu Monastery had become a demonic entity, his movements were astonishingly swift—and he could see the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

The crimson shadow twisted midair, evading the chain with an odd body technique, then closed in on the ground.

Li Yan had used both blade and chain—his defenses were wide open.

His reaction was swift: he retracted the blade, sidestepped, shifted his shoulder, and drove his elbow forward—his entire body's power erupted.

That's the problem with weapons—you can't let them close in. First, knock the opponent back; then the Soul-Grabbing Chain can follow suit.

Yet the abbot of Qingniu Monastery laughed grotesquely, advancing instead of retreating; his fists shifted rapidly like crimson shadows, bracing against Li Yan's elbow strike, opening his defenses, and striking back with palm and fist.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Amid a series of muffled impacts, Li Yan was blasted backward—his ribs shattered even before he hit the ground.

Emei Guest Fist, Eighteen Mo Bridge!

Emei martial arts originated from shamanism, matured through Buddhist and Daoist fusion, absorbing strengths from countless schools.

Martial arts from other regions, entering Bashu, merged with Emei techniques—this was what became known as Guest Fist.

For example, the Yue Family Fist from Hubei also existed in Emei—but its variations differed.

The Eighteen Mo Bridge changed the moment it touched—strikes like arrows—and with the opponent's demonic body, Li Yan had no time to react.

But he endured the pain, activated the Great Luo Body—before even landing, he was fully restored, and simultaneously yanked the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

This time, the abbot of Qingniu Monastery couldn't dodge—he stiffened, pulled out.

The soul-binding tally in his chest immediately reacted.

Without hesitation, Li Yan pressed down with the Soul-Grabbing Chain and chanted: "Heaven has its order, Earth has its law; the Netherworld binds souls, the living must retreat!"

Instantly, dark winds howled; light dimmed.

Amid the clanking of chains, the abbot of Qingniu Monastery screamed wildly—then fell silent.

The dark wind dispersed; he lay motionless on the ground.

"Elder brother..."

Chongxu Zi, the old Daoist, rushed out, sighing.

Though he had mastered the Sword Scripture—a beginner's art of a Sword Immortal—he had been unable to even see the flurry of attacks and defenses just now.

Added to his aged, weakened body—he could offer no help.

At this moment, he suddenly understood his elder brother.

Perhaps the man feared not death, but becoming utterly useless—old, discarded as trash...

Meanwhile, Li Yan felt a Heavenly Command pulse through the soul-binding tally, and exhaled in relief.

Summoning Netherworld soldiers required either locating a demonic soul or using a Heavenly Command.

He had expended too much earlier, and had used up his last one crafting the Five Directions Luo Feng Flag—only one remained, far from enough.

Three Wushan hermits still waited outside.

Now, finally, there was room to maneuver.

At that moment, the sensation of a pounding heart returned—and the soul-binding tally reacted again.

"Stand back!"

Li Yan roared, hurling the Soul-Grabbing Chain.

Ma Santong's demonic aura still lingered; the air remained thick with mist and poison. Though visibility was near zero, the tally revealed the location.

Whoosh~

The mist churned, the poison surged.

The Soul-Grabbing Chain seemed to grasp something—but the opponent dodged effortlessly; Li Yan spun instantly, the Dust-Cutting Blade flashing with lightning as it slashed upward.

Ziz! Chiss!

Lightning arced—striking something.

Only then did Li Yan see: it was a human-skin sack, dripping blood, layers upon layers, open at the rear, spewing poison mist as it flew.

"Destroy the corpse quickly!"

Li Yan instantly understood what this thing intended.

Ma Santong's demonic aura lurked inside this human-skin sack, releasing poison mist and using it as a teleportation technique to harm others.

The abbot of Qingniu Monastery's soul had been cast into the Netherworld, but his flesh remained—now fused with the human-skin sack, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Chongxu Zi immediately formed a hand seal and swung his sword, aiming to sever the corpse's head.

"Hehehe..."

At that moment, a strange child's laugh echoed from the mist.

Lu San groaned, staggering backward.

The talisman on his chest flickered.

This protective talisman was forged from lightning-struck wood, inlaid with gold thread, inscribed with talismans and incantations, depicting six divine generals—it was the Six Ding Six Jia protective charm taken from Xiong Baodong.

This item was manufactured by the imperial court, gifted to high-ranking generals to shield them from magical attacks—but wearing it interfered with spellcasting, and had always been carried by Sha Li Fei.

Since the poison mist contained no living beings, Lu San's magic was useless; Sha Li Fei had secretly passed it to him.

This artifact was a high-grade magical item, rare indeed—it immediately repelled the demonic aura attempting to possess him.

But soon, several others were struck.

The two women of the Bai family, along with the two accompanying Daoists, had their protective talismans shattered—their eyes turned black.

The demonic Ma Santong sensed danger and unleashed full power; their talismans could not withstand it.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

The possessed individuals lunged forward, using their bodies to block Chongxu Zi's descending sword.

Chongxu Zi had no choice but to parry.

Long Yan joined in—but her eyes darted, as she blocked the Bai women, the golden silkworm suddenly appeared, landing on the blood corpse and burrowing inside.

Li Yan gripped the soul-binding tally and chanted again: "Heaven has its order, Earth has its law; the Netherworld binds souls..."

But the human-skin sack moved too fast—seizing the chaos, it wrapped the corpse and was yanked away by an unseen force into the mist.

Yet at that moment, Long Yan suddenly removed the leather drum from her waist, fixed her gaze on the mist, striking it relentlessly while chanting unintelligible incantations.

"Roar!"

A roar echoed from the mist.

Ma Santong's blood corpse twisted—though not fatally, it halted.

"Good!"

Li Yan cheered, gripping the soul-binding tally and chanting again.

Whoosh~

Dark winds howled; darkness swallowed everything.

"Close your eyes!"

Li Yan shouted urgently.

Capturing demonic aura was the work of Netherworld divine generals—far more violent than before.

Finally, the darkness lifted; the mist and poison began to thin.

Everyone rushed forward—the demonic corpse lay still on the ground.

Long Yan's face was pale: "Don't destroy it. If Lu San's demonic gourd swallows it, it will ascend to a higher level..."

Saying this, she collapsed unconscious.

Li Yan frowned, rushing forward to check on her.

He had already guessed.

Long Yan had used her golden silkworm Gu to control Ma Santong—being a Gu, it was likely dragged into the Netherworld along with it.

Damage to her life-soul Gu would be a serious problem.

But now, he had no time to examine her; he slowly rose, turning toward the cave entrance—two Wushan hermits had appeared inside.

It was the purple-robed old scholar Wang Mengsheng, and the palace-dressed woman.

Li Yan narrowed his eyes: "Where's the other one?"

The purple-faced elder Wang Mengsheng stroked his beard and smiled: "Friend Lin has already gone to the valley's edge. The demon is gone—you've done a meritorious deed."

"Leave peacefully. Only then will your companions be spared..."

(End of chapter)