Chapter 499: The Mysterious Village

The cold wind howled, leaves swirling through the mountains.

Frost's Descent had passed; though Sichuan was not as bitterly cold as the north, winter's chill still cut to the bone.

"Giddy-up! Giddy-up!"

Hooves thundered; Liu Baohu's heart burned with heat.

The garrison posts in northern Sichuan clustered near Physician City, for Nanchong had recently seen frequent corpse disturbances, stirring panic; to prevent opportunistic chaos, he had been ordered to garrison here and await orders.

To be honest, it was a miserable posting.

Such matters were usually handled by the City God Temple; any credit went entirely to the Enforcement Hall, while he merely maintained order.

Even if he quelled the disturbance, he'd gain no merit.

But if anything went wrong, he'd bear joint responsibility.

He'd offended someone, and that's why he'd been saddled with this cursed task.

He'd originally planned to just go through the motions—after all, the Iron Buddha Sect was nearby, one of the Five Flowers of Emei, its strength only slightly weaker than the Qingcheng Sect.

Who knew, the Iron Buddha Sect's monks had their own troubles; they'd sent many men at first, but after slaying a few zombies, their main force had withdrawn.

The reason was simple.

Most of the undead were walking corpses—ordinary martial artists could cut them down with blades and burn them.

And many reports were false.

Rumors spread, and the people grew paranoid.

Even the barking of dogs at night made them think zombies had come to visit.

After several false alarms, they lost patience.

Coincidentally, imperial policy aimed to consolidate the Xuan Sects: all Xuan practitioners were to register their Dao permits, and their power was to be guided toward stabilizing the region.

It also subtly sought to weaken orthodox sects' prestige.

The Iron Buddha Sect's main interests lay along the Shu Road connecting Shaanzhou and Sichuan; naturally, they couldn't spare more energy for this place.

So the task fell mostly to demon hunters.

The demon hunters were delighted—this work carried low risk, paid rewards, and let them acquire talismans from the City God Temple; truly two birds with one stone.

Only Liu Baohu was displeased.

He only wanted to finish quickly and leave.

Then He Squire brought new news.

The Nanchong chaos was deliberately engineered!

A demonic cultivator was behind this!

Thus, the nature of the matter changed.

It was a windfall of merit!

With the New Year approaching, every garrison was being inspected by officials dispatched by the Ministry of War; if he secured this merit, he might finally rise above his station and break free from his shackles.

So now, Liu Baohu was the most eager of all.

"Hurry up! What are you all dawdling for?"

He kept reining in his horse, turning to urge them on.

The garrison soldiers were manageable—Liu Baohu trained them well; they could keep pace even over mountains.

But the Nanchong yamen runners suffered.

"Damn it, why the hell are you rushing us?"

"If you're so brave, get off your horse and say that!"

Their legs trembled, their minds cursed, yet they dared not speak out—only hastened to follow.

The demon hunters lagged behind the column.

They'd sensed something odd; they knew Liu Baohu wanted credit.

As for themselves, they had little motivation.

Once the source was destroyed, they'd have to move on elsewhere to survive—unlike now, where they feasted fat and full.

But the Enforcement Hall monks had spoken, and Chen Sanbang's brothers were comrades—they had to lend a hand.

Thus, all of Nanchong County's strength had converged.

Wang Daoxuan was among them, leading Wu Ba at a steady pace.

All of this was within his plan.

From Li Yan's letter, the River God Lord had been reborn; the Worship of the Dragon Sect was tied to it, perhaps even other forces involved.

Relying solely on them was not wise.

Drawing imperial power and attention here could also bind the Worship of the Dragon Sect.

They'd set out at noon; rushing hard, they arrived as dusk neared.

As Wang Daoxuan had said, this place lay in shadow, the mountain path rugged—unsuitable even for orchards, let alone villages.

Following a ruined trail, they climbed the ridge and saw an ancient village standing in the valley, long abandoned, many buildings smothered in dead grass and vines.

The place faced shadow; the setting sun's glow slid over the mountaintop, casting no light below—light and dark contrasted, making the village seem even more sinister.

"This is it?"

Liu Baohu reined in, frowning slightly.

He'd fought countless battles, once participated in the Shaanzhou campaign against the Maitreya Sect; instinct told him something was wrong here.

Neigh!

The warhorse beside him grew agitated, tossing its head as if wanting to flee.

Liu Baohu tied the horse to a tree, squinting at the monk beside him: "Master Yuntong, this place is suspicious—why don't your men scout ahead while we cover you with firearms?"

He was eager for merit, but not a fool.

The monk beside him, though young, was sturdy, clad in yellow robes, iron-studded leather bracers on his arms, gripping a steel staff.

Most peculiar were his hands—far larger than normal, like iron rakes.

That was the Iron Buddha Sect's hallmark.

This lineage, also called Yun Ding Sect, had its mountain gate in Bazhong; its most famed skill was the Eagle Claw, hard yet yielding, fiercely brutal.

Combined with Buddhist hand seals and secret methods, it could hold an entire region.

They were also skilled in carving Buddha statues; many stone grottoes across Sichuan invited their monks for guidance.

Hearing Liu Baohu's request, Yuntong didn't refuse; he stepped back, clasped his fists: "Brothers, the soldiers are mortals—let us scout ahead while they support us with firearms."

"Agreed."

"Whatever you say, we'll do."

The Iron Buddha Sect held the Enforcement Hall here; the demon hunters relied on them, and with their numbers, they wouldn't dare offend their face.

Wang Daoxuan stayed in formation, saying nothing.

Among demon hunters, his name was known, but he was a heterodox; orthodox disciples wouldn't treat him differently.

Soon, the group formed a line and descended.

These Iron Buddha Sect disciples, though not top pillars, were experienced and responsible, taking the lead.

One monk chanted a spell, eyes faintly glowing as he stared ahead.

Another sniffed the air.

Another's earlobes, unusually large, trembled slightly.

All their abilities activated at once—immediate signs of trouble.

"Why is the yin energy so heavy here?"

"There's corpse qi—but where is it hiding?"

Realizing something was wrong, everyone grew more alert.

Soon, they found something.

"Lao Wai! It's Lao Wai!"

Chen Sanbang wailed, sprinting toward the roadside.

There, a ruined house, collapsed walls; a pair of leather boots protruded, beside them a large pool of blood and a nine-ringed greatsword bent clean in half.

"Lao Wai, Lao Wai, why didn't you wait for me…"

Chen Sanbang sobbed, dragging at the feet.

But what he pulled out was only half a body.

The sight left the crowd sighing.

The martial world was cruel yet tender; though deceit and betrayal abounded, there were still brothers who stood shoulder to shoulder, willing to die for each other.

In this drifting life, sometimes only one or two were truly kin.

Accepting life and death as equal was merely habit—life was always uncertain.

Wang Daoxuan felt helpless inside; he'd warned them, wanted to observe first, plan carefully—but Chen Sanbang and his men couldn't wait.

Examining the corpse closely, his brow furrowed further.

"It looks like it was torn apart by force…"

The Iron Buddha Sect monk Yuntong spoke gravely: "Only an extraordinary zombie could do this."

"Everyone, search for more clues!"

He didn't need to say it—everyone began scouring the area.

Demon hunters had vast experience with zombies; after circling a few times, someone found something odd.

!.

"Look here!"

A bald demon hunter's voice trembled.

He was Yu Qing, a two-story cultivator, the most renowned among this group of demon capturers, with considerable fame elsewhere in Shu.

Since arriving in Nanchong, he had always been confident in capturing any demon.

Everyone had never seen him like this before.

They gathered closer and saw a pair of jet-black footprints on the trunk of a nearby tree; the wood beneath the prints had turned to charcoal.

Others, upon seeing them, were utterly baffled.

Even Yun Tong of the Iron Buddha Sect furrowed his brow, pressed a finger against the trunk, and the section cracked apart—within the fracture, the charcoal marks left by the footprints ran three inches deep.

"Burned by fire?"

Liu Company Commander also approached, frowning in confusion.

Monk Yun Tong said gravely: "Brother Yu, it seems you recognize this?"

Yu Qing hurriedly replied: "This is a Flying Fire Corpse. The Jing Yi Ji records that once a gang of grave robbers dug into a Bai Mao tomb, and from within the coffin came a roar like thunder—every wild chicken they brought died of fright. When they chiseled open the coffin, fire erupted, burning everyone nearby. It was called a 'Buried Fire Tomb' from the Han Jiuyi."

"But my master said the corpse within was a Flying Fire Corpse—far more dangerous than ordinary Flying Corpses. Born from yin-fire veins in corpse-nourishing grounds, such aberrations appear only rarely."

As he spoke, his voice shook, and he kept glancing over his shoulder.

The other demon hunters, upon hearing this, exchanged uneasy glances.

"Brother Yu, are you serious?"

"We've never heard of this before."

Someone quickly asked.

They were experts in demonic creatures, deeply versed in zombies, yet this was something they'd never encountered.

"Why would I lie to you?!"

Yu Qing snarled, eyes reddening, "My master and fellow disciples were killed by this thing—I alone survived by falling into the river."

"Leave now—this thing is beyond our power to fight!"

Seeing his state, the other demon hunters hesitated.

But Liu Company Commander grew impatient: "Nonsense! We've found the demon's nest—how can we flee now? You're all experts—afraid of a single corpse?"

"Heh~"

Yu Qing let out a bitter laugh, clasped his fists in salute: "Sir speaks truly—I'm terrified, a coward, but better a coward than dead."

With that, he turned and walked away.

"None of you leave!"

Liu Company Commander gave the order; soldiers raised their firelocks.

At once, the demon hunters' gazes turned cold.

Though they were of the Daoist sects, they mostly dealt with Jianghu folk and held no affection for the court—or especially for officials.

They came to help, yet now found themselves threatened with guns—naturally, tempers flared.

Some had already gripped their weapons in secret.

"Friends, don't let this turn to conflict."

Seeing the tension, Monk Yun Tong stepped forward, helpless: "We're all here to subdue demons and bring peace—why draw blades against each other?"

He turned to Liu Company Commander: "Your Excellency, though these Daoists are hot-tempered, they possess real skill—I myself fall short."

"This matter cannot be taken lightly. Night is deep—let us withdraw now and resume our search at dawn. It will be far safer."

"Hmph!"

Liu Company Commander snorted but said nothing.

He was taking the easy way out—if he pushed these hunters too far, his soldiers wouldn't survive the fight.

Wang Daoxuan watched, silently approving.

No wonder he's a famous sect disciple—this monk has excellent composure, able to calm both sides without offending either. No wonder he was left to handle this.

With a plan settled, the group began retreating outward.

Only Chen Sanbang, eyes bloodshot, stared at his brother's corpse—then gritted his teeth, snatched up his spear, and charged into the village.

"That fool—he's throwing his life away!"

Yu Qing, seeing this, grew furious.

For demon hunters, cultivation level matters—but caution matters more. We're all at the bottom of the Daoist hierarchy; one misstep, and we're dead.

He himself was terrified—how could this kid charge in?

"He wants to save the others."

Wang Daoxuan sighed, pointing to the distant footprints: "Only one died. The rest fled into the village—perhaps they're still alive."

Yu Qing narrowed his eyes: "Master Mobile Corps Commander, you're not going in too, are you?"

Unlike those officials, he knew well: in this group, only "Mobile Corps Commander" and "Chouniu" could truly hold the line in a crisis.

"I have no choice."

Wang Daoxuan lifted his Luo Pan, shaking his head gravely: "I misjudged this place. It's not just a corpse-nourishing ground—it's a yin-evil hellspot."

"The Dragon thrives on fluidity and vital energy; when its body is trapped and its qi channels blocked, it becomes a Trapped Dragon Formation."

"This site was arranged by a master—sunlight blocked from the yin side is the last vestige of life. At night, the Trapped Dragon Formation activates."

"Using heaven's timing and earth's advantage to set this array—only a Feng Shui Grandmaster could have done this."

Yu Qing looked down—the Luo Pan's needle spun wildly, dipping unevenly, speeding up and slowing down erratically, as if possessed.

"Damn it—I've had the worst luck today…"

His face turned ashen.

Not everyone believed Wang Daoxuan's words.

After all, a Trapped Dragon yin-evil site was uncommon—they'd never even heard of it, and along the way, they'd seen no signs of any array.

Immediately, someone dared to run toward the village's edge.

But in everyone's sight, he had barely reached the village's edge when he spun in place, then ran back.

Seeing the group, his face turned white.

"It's just a ghost wall!"

Another demon hunter gritted his teeth, pulled a black cloth from his sleeve, tied it over his eyes, stepped back one pace, then advanced two, repeating the motion toward the village's edge.

This was called the Breaking the Curse Step.

Though known by all Daoists, it was highly practical—any ghost wall could be escaped with it.

Indeed, following this method, he reached the village gate.

He took his final step—and stepped out.

"So it was just a ghost wall."

Seeing this, everyone exhaled in relief.

The man removed the cloth, smiling: "Friends, just follow me—"

His words cut short—a shadow fell from the sky, snatched him upward, and with a piercing scream, his body was severed at the waist, half of it tumbling down…

(End of Chapter)