Chapter 501: The Unexpected Secret

"It's a treasure!"

The demon hunters saw it, their eyes blazing with excitement; some nearly leapt out to seize it.

This place is barren, a yin-sha domain, a dragon-trapped formation, with flying jiang roaming—only a fool would come here without great reward.

So all this fuss was to dig for treasure! The golden mask meant nothing to the demon hunters, but they could feel the terrifying aura radiating from it.

Yet the ones under even greater tension were those men.

"You idiot, pick it up!"

The Daoist who nearly jumped down hurriedly turned and shouted.

"Roar!"

Dū! {

The Daoist lying on the ground was also targeted by the bloodthirsty soldiers.

Puff! Puff! Puff! The flying jiang was fully suppressed, its phosphorescent flames vanished, and it fell still.

Though filled with grief and fury, the group quickly formed a circular formation, backs to backs, vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

On the road, when martial artists tried to harass Wang Daoxuan, Wu Ba didn't even stir—he simply threw a stone and shattered their limbs.

They outnumbered the enemy fivefold.

…………

"Why are these figures' eyes so bulging? Could they be demons?"

Many monks chanted sutras and incantations, accompanied by wooden fish and drumbeats.

BOOM! Finally, the flying jiang could no longer bear it and burst from the earth.

The Iron Buddha Sect's Yun Tong monk gave a deep-voiced order.

The best course now is to withdraw first and await reinforcements.

But his hiding spot had already been calculated.

The iron net was woven from iron cables as thick as a thumb, soaked in cinnabar; every joint bore sharp barbs and consecrated bronze Buddhas.

Lieutenant Liu let out a sharp cry, and the surrounding soldiers raised their spears.

Saying this, he snatched up the golden mask beside him and hurled it away.

As the saying goes, two fists can't fight four hands; even at the dark-force level, one can crush ordinary people, but against a formation of spears in overwhelming numbers, there's no defense.

Not long after, they made a discovery.

Unconsciously, the night passed.

Who else, besides Wang Daoxuan, had their light obscured by Li Yan?

Another shook his head: "It seems the Qiang people encountered the 'Geji people' when they moved south—these were actually ancient Shu ancestors: short-statured, with tails. Perhaps generations of exaggeration distorted them into this form."

All of this made sense.

This object was a "Ghost-Fearing Device," specially crafted by imperial authorities to catch flying bandits—its iron barbs ensnared victims, trapping them beyond escape.

Further inside lay rotting coffins, ancient pottery, and bronze artifacts.

The terrifying strength and beastlike combat skills were merely part of it—more techniques were still being revealed.

Though Lieutenant Liu was hot-tempered and strict in training, he treated his men with genuine care.

The danger of the Qiang village extended far beyond this.

By a boulder on the slope, a fire blazed fiercely.

Then they were dragged away by the monks.

The Black Robe Daoist of the Worship Dragon Sect, his leg broken, had tried to draw a dagger and kill himself—but Wu Ba clamped his neck with one giant hand, and he fainted.

The corpse plague near Nanchong was caused by these people accidentally releasing it.

Remember, Wu Ba was once treated as a puppet, a man who even the Tai Xuan Zheng Jiao struggled with and nearly lost to.

Li Yan sat by the fire, prodding the flames with a stick, examining the secret letter by its glow.

But just as they prepared to act, a vicious wind howled—suddenly, a massive axe blade flashed, and every spear shaft was severed.

The flying jiang screamed wildly, but the barbs held it fast, tightening with every struggle; the countless bronze Buddhas on the iron net vibrated, causing its yin-sha aura to spill out.

It was noon; even in shadowed areas, sunlight bathed the ground, suppressing yin-sha energy, while the scent of sandalwood filled the entire village.

Seeing it could not escape, the jiang stopped struggling; pale white phosphorescence rose from its body, and the iron net slowly turned red.

The abandoned village remained just that—an abandoned village, no different from any other. The group had endured the night, utterly drained.

Since joining the group, Wu Ba had always carried packs, and whenever he acted, it was only on menial tasks.

Beneath a stone watchtower in the village lay a vast underground cavern; from the tunnel entrance, talismans for suppressing souls were carved into the walls.

Lieutenant Liu panted, nodded, and said no more.

Since childhood, fighting wild beasts in the Shennongjia wilderness, he had mastered flying locust stones—aim true, strike exact, with terrifying force.

Many years ago, a secret Worship Dragon Sect arose on the border of Shu.

Gunfire continued without pause, smoke and flame thick in the air.

The iron net would likely melt soon.

All of this happened in an instant.

"A-la-la, Jia-jia-la, Zhi-duo-jia-la, Suo-he…"

Then they leapt down from the Council Ground.

They had been here for a long time.

Wang Daoxuan hurried over, bowed, and explained.

The Daoist wore a black robe, three long beards, his frame lean and vigorous, radiating an almost immortal aura—exactly as described by the Honorable He.

Wu Ba nodded and pulled several iron pellets from his satchel.

Two days later, the Iron Buddha Sect sent many experts to assist.

In the Great Xuan Dynasty, military merit was counted by heads; these soldiers didn't think much—besides, in this dangerous place, they were already enraged, and seeing slow-moving demon folk, they stabbed wildly.

Once a drought demon is destroyed, its poison spreads for a thousand li—only suppression is possible.

This sect worshipped the ancient River God, the Great Lord.

To be honest, he became a battalion commander only because he carved his way up through years of battle—brave in frontline charges, but otherwise mediocre.

The Worship Dragon Sect's connection to the Great Lord of the River was expected.

Many soldiers had bloodshot eyes.

Among them, a black-clad man suddenly formed a hand seal, flung open his cloak, and transformed into a shadow that shot through the air, snatching the golden mask.

Unfortunately, these Buddhist Vajrapāṇis had already prepared.

Plop! A mangled corpse fell from the sky.

His intuition was correct.

Wang Daoxuan exhaled in relief, knowing this wasn't the time to question; he quickly took a talisman from Wu Ba's belongings, hastily erected an altar, and dispatched several wild spirits to patrol.

Wang Daoxuan didn't object and followed the group out of the village.

The Great Lord of the River was too efficacious: villages struck by plague were cleansed after human sacrifice; cultivators who sincerely worshipped received divine guidance even in dreams.

Wu Ba's arm muscles suddenly tensed, then he whipped his wrist backward—iron pellets shot out with astonishing speed.

This information truly surprised him.

The piercing pain made him cry out involuntarily.

Yet the fierce dragon-trapped formation affected the wild spirits too—they could only wander aimlessly around the Council Ground, unable to probe deeper.

"Keep that man alive!"

"Master, you don't know—the legend says the King of Shu was Mu Zong."

This news immediately alarmed the Enforcement Hall and the Commandant's Office.

He knew most of the demon folk had already fled.

Second, Wu Ba's temperament was unstable, and he had long been enslaved by puppetry—fine when calm, but if enraged, he risked losing control.

This abandoned village held many oddities: the corpses on the ground and the surviving Daoist could yield much information.

Especially in the Late Dharma Age, it helps cultivators attain true understanding and avoid being misled by heretical demons.

Wang Daoxuan sensed danger and shouted urgently.

In the ancient Qiang village, prayer wheels, lotus lamps, and relics of Buddhist bones were placed in every area.

The Commandant's Office troops arrived first; they had many interrogation experts. After two days of torture, they finally extracted information from the Daoist's mouth.

"Leave this place first!"

"By the way, in Guankou, there's also a legend: Erlang is a descendant of Cancong, hence his bulging eyes…" The dragon-trapped formation vanished.

The Pai Sect's Huo Jiao was secretly backed by them too…

The results left them stunned.

Lieutenant Liu's eyes turned red—he roared, drew his sword, and charged out with his soldiers.

An old monk of the Iron Buddha Sect looked around, puzzled.

"Hmm."

"Ancient Shu… Great Lord of the River… Erlang…"

"Aaah—!"

Thud! The Daoist collapsed straight down.

!.

First, because Wu Ba is a renxiao—strictly speaking, he could even be classified as a spirit creature.

"This is an ancient Shu artifact…"

"All of you are fucking idiots!"

He paid no heed to the Daoist on the ground and led his men to the cliff edge before the Council Ground, looking down.

Puff! Puff! Several men were immediately impaled by spears.

For instance, the technique of flying locust stones.

This Battalion Commander Liu had a gaping wound across his neck, directly bitten through, even his chest cavity torn open.

This flying jiang is elusive and emits no aura; protected by this malevolent land, we have no chance of dealing with it.

The Lengyan Jing, full title The Great Buddha's Topmost Secret Cause, Cultivation, and Realization Scripture of All Bodhisattvas' Myriad Practices, is a Buddhist scripture for breaking demons.

Deep night, silent, wilderness mountains.

That day, Yun Tong sent a pigeon letter, urgently requesting aid.

Moreover, in broad daylight, there was no need to risk it.

"Roar!"

They operated in secrecy, never rebelled, so the court took no notice—but behind the scenes, they did much.

The news of the Dragon Palace's water palace was leaked by them…

This iron net was extremely heavy; only these strong Buddhist Vajras could barely lift it together.

Looking at the message from Wang Daoxuan, Li Yan frowned deeply.

Bestial roars echoed endlessly underground.

And this one from the Iron Buddha Sect was even more brutal.

He never mistreated his men, though he didn't love them like his own children.

The hairy ghost the He family's young master encountered also left this village—and it was the key to entering the chamber below, which is why the He family suffered misfortune.

After all, Li Yan had to consider others' safety.

But this Daoist was a man of grit; he gritted his teeth and shouted: "Quick, take the items and go—don't mind me!"

"My lord!"

Wang Daoxuan's reputation in Nanchong was partly due to his fierce bodyguard, Wu Ba.

This black-robed Daoist was originally a minor sect disciple with no talent; he learned some demonic arts by worshipping the River God Lord.

Several men raised their demon-subduing clubs and leapt upward, driving them down hard.

But this man must be left alive! He surely knows many secrets; capturing him may reveal the connection between the Worship Dragon Sect and the River God Lord.

"Quick, form a formation!"

Upon hearing this, his eyes flashed with sudden brilliance…

The Iron Buddha Sect's Yun Tong arrived too late; he gritted his teeth and ordered everyone to form a defensive formation.

Wang Daoxuan saw this and gave Wu Ba a signal.

Battalion Commander Liu cursed fiercely, then turned and shouted: "Quick, search for survivors and demon hunters—see if you can find…"

What they chanted was the Lengyan Jing and the Lengyan Mantra.

They instigated the great battle between good and evil at Dujiangyan…

The Buddhist chants filled the air, causing the flying jiang unbearable pain.

Wang Daoxuan followed inside, staying quietly in the rear.

Under these conditions, pursuing the remaining demons was out of the question.

On the surrounding broken walls stood ten monks.

Among the demon hunters, some with bloodshot eyes tried to stop them, immediately nocking arrows and aiming to shoot down the golden mask.

About the size of a walnut, in Wu Ba's hand it was like a small marble.

…

"What are you doing!"

These men's leader was precisely that apostate monk of the Esoteric Sect; their purpose in coming to this desolate village was to find the golden mask.

No sooner had he spoken than he felt a bone-chilling cold behind him.

Where were the demons? Long gone, vanished without a trace.

The horizon turned pale with dawn; morning light swept over the mountaintop, as if breaking this gloomy ghost realm—the mist around them rapidly dispersed.

But as Yu Qing said, this was no ordinary flying jiang—it was a flying fire jiang born from a fire vein in a yin-evil land.

They chanted in unison, drawing demon-subduing clubs from behind their backs.

Seeing this, Wang Daoxuan handed Wu Ba several iron pellets.

Thus, even after Wu Ba gradually earned trust, he was only given menial tasks and never became a pillar.

But night offered poor visibility, and the soldiers' marksmanship was mediocre; they fired wildly—bang, bang, bang—and only killed three or four more.

Even ordinary iron tools became deadly weapons in Wu Ba's hands.

"Stop them!"

Especially the Lengyan Mantra, hailed as the King of Mantras, possessing miraculous power to dispel all darkness and subdue all demons.

He felt two icy hands seize his shoulders, then he was lifted into the air—his neck exploded in pain, his consciousness rapidly fading.

With this greatest threat cleared, the Commandant's Office, the garrison soldiers, and numerous demon hunters surged in, searching everywhere.

"My lord, spare this man for questioning!"

The flying jiang was not like that, but equally troublesome; properly dealing with it required a ritual.

The Buddhist sect became a mainstream Daoist school for good reason.

He looked down—his right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, flesh and blood mangled.

But the relationship among the Qiang, ancient Shu, and Erlang Shen surprised him—these grudges stretched back to ancient times.

Li Yan had always been wary of him.

The instant the flying jiang leapt out, the iron net clattered down, perfectly covering it and crushing it hard.

And this time out, he gradually showed his power.

These demon-subduing clubs were specially made—far longer than ordinary ones, their tips sharp like spears, yet heavier.

Yet among these men, clearly no few were experts.

They were Iron Buddha Sect's temple guards, specially tasked with subduing demons and eliminating monsters; each wore half their robes, revealing knotted muscles, living embodiments of Vajras.

Their secret growth naturally had a reason.

It was Wu Ba who struck suddenly.

Wang Daoxuan didn't care about any treasure.

Fortunately, the flying jiang's right arm had been severed by the Divine Fire Gun, apparently severely wounded; it did not reappear afterward.

These monks were lifting a massive iron net together.

Perhaps, even more secrets lay hidden…

It seemed he must hurry to join them.

Thinking this, Li Yan plunged his wooden stick into the bonfire, then drew his Duan Chen Dao, rising to his full height, and called out in a low voice toward the distance: "Since you've come, step out and let's see what you're made of."

In the darkness ahead, shadowy figures loomed…

(End of Chapter)