Chapter 475: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, the Yellow Bird Waits Behind

Midnight, the convoy, the stone coffin…

No matter how you look at it, it radiates an eerie aura.

Li Yan pondered, unable to resist stepping forward a few paces, drawing closer, forming the Yang Seal with his fingers, and using his spiritual power to probe.

He had assumed it was internal sect conflict—murder and plunder.

But now it seemed there was more to it.

More importantly,

that stone coffin looked strikingly familiar…

With his current cultivation, his probing range had expanded significantly; as the convoy slowly approached, Li Yan's expression grew grave.

Indeed, he had seen something similar before.

When they first entered the Wushan region, they found an ancient salt-water tribe stone coffin in the mountains, cursed with witchcraft fueled by resentment toward the Ba Kingdom, giving rise to the monster known as "The Mist Walker."

They eradicated it and rescued Chaoyun and Xingyu.

Could it be that Huangling Sect had found something similar again?

The convoy drew nearer; the massive wooden wheels groaned and creaked, their sound piercing the silent night.

The convoy consisted of two carts.

Two horses pulled the stone coffin at the front, while two more horses, side by side, dragged several large chests bound tightly with coarse hemp ropes—equally heavy.

Most of the men in the group wore black military robes, carrying lanterns and sharp blades, their eyes alert and scanning the surroundings.

On the front cart sat an old Daoist, straddling the shaft, holding a Soul-Subduing Bell, his gaze fixed warily on the stone coffin behind him.

Occasionally, he formed a spell and shook the bell.

Ting-ting-ting!

The crisp chime echoed through the night.

There was something inside the coffin…

Li Yan narrowed his eyes, growing wary.

The salt-water tribe's coffin had contained a corpse—the physical form of "The Mist Walker"—and concentrated demonic afflictions.

This aura was different.

But it was still an ancient coffin, usable only by tribal shamans of the highest rank.

Who knew what foul thing it might contain…

Suddenly, the Daoist stiffened, spun around, drew his sword, and leapt off the cart, positioning himself before the stone coffin. "Ambush! Watch out!"

At his warning, the convoy halted instantly.

Clang-clang-clang!

The sound of swords and blades being drawn rang continuously.

Though the other black-robed men were not cultivators, they were skilled and well-trained, instantly forming a sword formation around the carts.

Moreover, several in the group pulled out firearms.

Shhh-shhh-shhh… the rustling of grass.

Two monks emerged from the darkness, wielding spears.

"Fa Kong? Fa Se?"

The Daoist's brow furrowed. "I heard you broke the precepts and were expelled from Shijing Temple—how have you taken up banditry?"

The two monks bowed respectfully in unison.

Though Buddhist and Daoist paths differ, both were of Emei lineage, and having returned to lay life, addressing him as "Senior Brother" was acceptable.

Fa Kong, his face filled with resignation, spoke: "We never wished to clash with Senior Brother, but we were entrusted with this task—we have no choice."

"Senior Brother, leave the item and go. I truly don't want bloodshed. If you seek revenge, my brother and I accept it."

"Brother, leave the item and go. I truly don't want to come to blows; if you seek revenge, my brothers and I accept it."

The Wu Daoist sneered coldly. "You two have some reputation, but you're merely expelled disciples—how dare you speak to me like this?"

Fa Se's face darkened at this. "Do you think being a cultivator makes you superior? Don't push your luck!"

With that, he charged forward with his spear.

Fa Kong sighed and followed close behind.

Fa Kong sighed and followed closely behind.

A Huangling Sect disciple immediately fired his trigger.

Fire and smoke erupted—but it was an ordinary firearm.

Yet Fa Kong and Fa Se merely shifted their bodies at the instant the gun fired, dodging effortlessly without slowing.

This was one of the drawbacks of firearms.

In the martial world, experts trained in evasive maneuvers against hidden weapons—same principle applied to firearms: if you moved before the muzzle fired, you avoided it.

Ordinary people lacked such reflexes.

But these two monks were both at the peak of Dark Force, their power far surpassing the Huangling disciple who fired.

They saw his movement the moment he raised his hand.

Boom-boom-boom!

The remaining men fired in succession.

Yet the two monks stepped in the "muddy-trampling" gait, their bodies weaving left and right, maintaining speed, closing the distance in an instant.

They wielded short spears.

Few in the martial world used such weapons.

After all, spears were primarily long ones—"Seven-foot flower spear, eight-foot staff, the great spear one zhang and eight inches."

Yet spears also demanded "long weapon, short use," for long spears grew stiff in the hands; without mastering short-use techniques, one missed a strike and was overrun by close-range weapons.

Short spears abandoned the reach advantage of long spears, pushing "long weapon, short use" to its extreme—effectively extending the fists.

These two monks embodied this perfectly.

Their stance, neither fully Ding nor fully Ba, was characteristic of the monk fist style; their twin spears darted like snakes, blocking, parrying, thrusting, deflecting—fluid as limbs.

The Huangling disciples' sword thrusts were effortlessly deflected with ringing clangs.

The gap in cultivation was unmistakable.

Most Huangling disciples were merely Bright Force; only one had entered Dark Force—likely a martial school recruit.

Not just in power, but in technique, the disparity was vast.

Li Yan watched, a question rising in his mind.

Transporting this stone coffin was clearly a dangerous mission—why send only these ordinary disciples?

The two monks moved like wolves, effortlessly knocking down everyone around them.

Yet they had clearly held back; the disciples lay groaning on the ground, but none were mortally wounded.

But they had clearly held back—these disciples lay sprawled on the ground, moaning in pain, yet none bore fatal wounds.

The Daoist guarding the coffin could no longer hold back.

His face flushed with fury. "There's no treasure inside—only a malevolent artifact that must be returned and suppressed. If you interfere, whatever's inside will unleash its curse—we'll all die!"

His face flushed with rage as he gritted his teeth: "There's no treasure here—only a malevolent artifact. It must be taken back and sealed. If you act rashly, the thing inside will stir, and we'll all die!"

He wasn't afraid of the two monks—but the thing inside the coffin kept stirring, preventing him from acting.

He wasn't afraid of the two brothers, but the thing inside the stone coffin kept stirring restlessly, forcing him to hold back.

Fa Kong sighed. "We came here for a reason. The contents are of grave importance—your Huangling Sect cannot contain them. Even if you bring it back, you'll only invite disaster."

Fa Kong the monk sighed, "We came here for a reason. The thing inside is of great consequence—your Huangling Sect cannot possibly safeguard it. Even if you take it back, it will only invite disaster upon yourselves."

The Wu Daoist narrowed his eyes. "Then tell me—what's inside?"

Huangling Sect controlled Chengdu's City God Temple and was the main force of the Enforcement Hall. He had been investigating a village massacre when he accidentally discovered its connection to this object.

With the conflict between righteous and evil forces at Dujiangyan consuming the sect's attention, he had no choice but to gather martial school disciples, rest by day, travel by night, intending to return the artifact to the City God Temple.

As for what lay inside—he truly didn't know.

"The contents…"

Fa Kong hesitated, preparing to speak.

But Fa Se suddenly flung his spear—hissing through the air, aimed straight at the Daoist's chest.

This caught everyone off guard.

Just moments ago, he had held back against the disciples—but now, he attacked the Daoist with lethal intent.

He had held back against those disciples, but against this Daoist, he launched a direct ambush—aimed squarely at killing.

The Daoist roared, dodging frantically.

Though the distance was short, his skill was formidable—he twisted aside, his wide Daoist robe whipping out and wrapping around the incoming spear, then spun and hurled it back.

Simultaneously, he stomped the ground—a flash of cold light shot forth.

Huangling Sect's art centered on the Fire Dragon Rolling Fist, emphasizing "feet like serpents, waist supple, swift steps first."

Especially this Daoist—he also wielded martial magic.

His right hand thrust a sword, his left formed a seal; spiritual energy surged, conjuring a blaze that spread like wildfire.

Even Li Yan, watching from afar, smelled the scorching Qi.

"Senior Brother, we have no path left!"

Fa Se roared, dodging the thrown spear, charging forward with one spear in hand.

Fa Kong sighed, swinging both spears in tandem with his brother, clanging repeatedly as he blocked sword thrust after sword thrust.

It was clear that, in terms of martial skill alone, this Wu Daoist was slightly weaker than the two monks, but with his martial arts technique, he could suppress them both.

Meanwhile, the Huangling Sect disciples lying on the ground began struggling to rise, attempting to regroup and encircle again.

Thud!

At that moment, a muffled thump came from the stone coffin behind them.

Instantly, dark winds surged from all around.

The vermilion ropes binding the coffin snapped one by one, and the yellow talismans pasted across its surface burst into flame.

"Trouble!"

The Daoist sensed danger and hastily retreated.

But it was already too late.

!.

He had set up a talisman array to suppress it—the coffin stirred, and immediately a wave of yin-sha energy surged straight toward him.

"Ahh—!"

The Daoist was struck full in the face by the yin-sha energy, screamed in agony, spat blood, and collapsed unconscious to the ground.

The Huangling Sect disciples nearby began to grow dazed, then went mad, turning on each other in violent attacks.

Yet Fa Kong and Fa Se, the two monks, seemed to have anticipated this—they simultaneously pulled a demon-subduing mace from their robes, unleashed hidden force, and hurled them forward.

Bang! Bang!

Two sharp cracks echoed as shattered stone flew in all directions.

The two demon-subduing maces pierced the coffin—one in front, one behind—humming and vibrating, making the iron rings above jingle violently.

The coffin fell silent.

"Go now!"

Fa Se shouted low, leaping onto the carriage and stabbing his short spear into the horse's rump. The horse, in pain, bolted forward at full speed.

Fa Kong, watching the fallen and wounded Huangling disciples and the unconscious Wu Daoist, sighed to the heavens, then leapt onto the carriage.

Hooves clattered, wheels rolled, and soon they vanished into the night.

Li Yan pondered deeply, then pushed off with his feet and followed after them.

These two monks were merely skilled in martial arts—not sorcerers—and relied entirely on the two demon-subduing maces to suppress the coffin.

Transporting this thing away probably wouldn't be easy…

Indeed, after following only a short distance, Li Yan suddenly felt a chill and halted, gripping the handle of Duan Chen Dao.

He sensed a killing intent spreading through the night.

The two monks clearly lacked such awareness and continued galloping wildly.

Tink~

In the darkness, a guqin melody suddenly sounded.

Clear, luminous, and haunting, it pierced the soul.

"Whoa~"

The two monks' expressions changed instantly; they yanked hard on the reins.

Fa Kong glanced around, clenched his teeth, and bowed respectfully: "Is this Master Pei Yufang? We've retrieved the item!"

From the darkness, an old woman slowly emerged, clad in a green robe, her face gaunt, hair snow-white, her bun loosely tied with a twig.

She cradled the ancient guqin as she walked, her gaze icy.

The two monks immediately sensed something was wrong.

Fa Se's face darkened; he growled low: "What do you want? Don't you fear the Prince's wrath?"

The old woman, still holding the guqin, gave them a dismissive glance. "Two traitors who break monastic precepts—do you truly believe the Prince takes in anyone?"

The elder Fa Kong suddenly understood, sighing: "Brother, don't speak. They only meant to frame us—they never intended for us to live."

Fa Se's eyes filled with regret; he gritted his teeth: "Brother, it's all my fault—I'll hold him off, you run!"

Without another word, he leapt upward, stomping on the horse's head, swinging his spear like an arrow loosed from a bow, straight toward the guqin-cradling old woman.

How could Fa Kong abandon his brother to die?

But a flash of insight struck him—he didn't rush to attack. Instead, he swung his spear, aiming first to kill the two horses.

They sent them to steal the item precisely to frame the Monk Sect and conceal the true killer.

Today, they were unlikely to escape death.

The coffin behind was heavy; without the horses, the old woman alone couldn't carry it, and the Huangling disciples weren't dead yet.

Perhaps there was still a sliver of chance.

Being expelled from the sect didn't mean he had no feeling for it.

Swish!

He raised both spears, ready to pierce the horses' skulls.

But a lazy voice came from behind.

"Oh? Aren't monks supposed to practice compassion?"

Fa Kong's scalp went cold.

On top of the stone coffin behind him, a figure had appeared—clad in black robes, face painted with Sichuan opera masks, a "Evil" character written on his forehead.

Fa Kong whirled around and thrust his spear straight ahead.

But the eerie mask instantly filled his vision; his body stiffened, arms trembled, and he couldn't thrust the spears forward at all.

Demon-ensnaring art!

Though Fa Kong wasn't a sorcerer, he'd heard of this technique.

The old woman ahead was a renowned outsider from Chengdu's Xuanmen Dao path—his brother's superior—and he knew her power.

But this strange man—he'd never seen him before.

Before he could think further, the masked figure suddenly formed a hand seal and extended a finger.

Puff~

A flame sparked at his fingertip; the man puffed out his cheeks and blew.

Fa Kong instantly became a human torch, kicked away and crashing to the ground, burning into charred ash in roaring flames.

"Brother!"

Mid-air, Fa Se screamed in anguish, eyes bloodshot, turning to charge toward the carriage.

"Such a fool…"

The guqin-cradling old woman's eyes remained cold; she plucked a string and flicked her finger.

Zzzz!

Seven strings hissed through the air like serpents, wrapping around Fa Se's body, limbs, and neck.

"Brother…"

Fa Se couldn't move, staring at the distant fire, tears streaming down his face.

Behind him, the old woman plucked the strings with her fingers.

Fa Se instantly tore apart into pieces.

"Tsk tsk, such a nuisance…"

The masked figure leapt down, burned Fa Se's corpse to ash, then complained: "Just two insignificant brats—why did you need me to handle them?"

The guqin-cradling old woman retracted her strings and said coolly: "This is an ancient coffin from the Wuqian Kingdom. The Fangxian Sect found it long ago, leaving clues to the Dragon Palace's Water Mansion. The Elixir of Immortality is likely inside—the Prince cares deeply."

The masked man replied blankly: "Just send it to him. Why call me?"

The old woman said calmly: "I have another matter—the Wuhou Temple has seen a string of disappearances. Victims were found reduced to nothing but skins."

"Survivors say they all heard a bewitching guqin melody."

"Guqin worms?"

"Possibly."

The masked man's tone dripped with envy: "Good for you—you'll advance further if you capture this thing. Damn it, why don't I ever get lucky?"

"How did this thing appear at the Wuhou Temple?"

"I don't know. But word has spread—I must obtain it."

The guqin-cradling old woman turned and vanished into the darkness.

The masked man cursed: "What are you all standing around for? Get to work!"

At his command, dozens of figures emerged from the darkness—all clad in armor, carrying fire-god spears…

(End of Chapter)