Chapter 514: The Killing Dragon Site

"Chase!"

Under the night sky, a group moved through the mountain path.

The salt gang's men gripped sharp blades; though cold wind howled against their faces, a fire burned in their chests, each one exhilarated.

Since being exiled to this hellish place, they had endured too much oppression.

No one dared provoke them; even when humiliated, they had to swallow it.

But every household in the village had set up mourning altars—where was there left to retreat?

Thinking of this, everyone couldn't help but look ahead.

Li Yan walked with a knife in hand; though merely walking, he seemed to shrink distances, always leading the group.

Sha Li Fei followed closely behind, while Wu Ba sprinted with Wang Daoxuan slung over his shoulder.

As for Lu San, he had already left ahead to scout.

There was no need for much communication—their unspoken understanding was so seamless it left Feng Laohai silently astonished.

Though he had become famous in youth and entered the Transformation Realm in middle age, wielding the Five-Lang Eight-Trigram Staff, he was a notable figure in the Sichuan underworld.

But now, long past his prime, his vital energy had withered; he could no longer endure long night marches and was carried on a sedan chair by younger disciples.

He conserved his strength, waiting for the critical moment to strike.

With Li Yan and others aiding him, their first battle had succeeded; revenge might not be impossible—but the old man's face showed no joy.

Even if this disaster could be overcome…

What about next time?

He was old, with few days left to live.

But what of these younger disciples under his command…?

Thinking of this, Feng Laohai gazed at Li Yan and the others ahead, his eyes thoughtful, then deepened into solemnity.

………

A cry of an eagle pierced the air, followed by the sound of wings cutting through it.

Li Yan halted, glanced not once, and reached up to snatch the falling bamboo tube from the air.

It bore a simple map: mountains, terrain, their current location, and the target's position.

Well done!

Li Yan silently praised within.

The eagle's aerial view, combined with Lu San's supernatural ability, was a perfect match—he had mentioned some ideas from his past life, and Lu San grasped them instantly.

With this, their convenience had increased immeasurably.

He studied the map closely, frowned, and turned to hand it to Wang Daoxuan behind him: "Master, take a look—this place seems off."

Wang Daoxuan took it and lit a torch.

As he examined it, he gestured with his fingers, murmuring thoughtfully: "The dragon vein carries killing energy, steep and perilous, ugly and coarse, exposed bones and rocks… Indeed, something is wrong—it resembles a Killing Dragon Site!"

Sha Li Fei scratched his head. "I know Killing Tiger Pass—named because tigers were killed there. Did they kill a dragon here?"

Wang Daoxuan shook his head. "Killing Dragon Site is a type of dragon vein—extremely sinister. The living cannot dwell here; the dead cannot be buried here—or calamity will follow."

He gazed grimly into the distance. "Such a malevolent place is no less dangerous than the Ghost Qiang village."

"Stay alert—there must be traps inside!"

Once they recognized the anomaly, the group slowed their pace.

They advanced cautiously, yet strangely, the enemy—though aware of their approach—had set no ambush.

At the mountain's foot, Lu San emerged from the dense forest with the white fox, shaking his head: "From here to the summit, no one is there."

"There's a village atop the mountain, saturated with malevolent energy. They've used some method—yet it appears utterly deserted."

Li Yan snorted coldly. "They think to use terrain to their advantage? Fine. We'll use fire—force them out!"

The others agreed it was a good plan and immediately ascended.

After crossing a ridge, the cult's village came into view.

As Wang Daoxuan had said, this place radiated utter malevolence: exposed rocks, severed gullies everywhere, withered grass tangled, trees twisted and grotesque.

Stone-built mansions stood among them.

These houses were bizarre: square and boxy, without windows, doors narrow and elongated—resembling tombs.

From afar, at least a dozen stood in orderly arrangement, clearly forming a fengshui array. A black, foul-smelling stream flowed down the mountain, encircling and cutting through the entire village.

"The living dwell in yin dwellings… cultivating death-qi from a Killing Dragon Site…"

Wang Daoxuan's heart trembled; he frowned deeply. "These people are reversing yin and yang—fire attack won't work."

Hearing this, Li Yan turned and waved his hand.

The salt gang's men had already prepared—they bent bows, lit arrows, and fired them directly.

Shhh-shhh-shhh!

A rain of fire rained down into the village.

Their target: those strange mansions.

Li Yan assumed Wang Daoxuan meant the mansions wouldn't ignite—but even as the arrows flew, a strange wind surged up.

"Roar!"

The wind howled like a beast screaming.

The flaming arrows were instantly extinguished, spinning midair, scattering crookedly across the ground.

"I understand now!"

Wang Daoxuan's eyes widened in shock.

He quickly turned to Feng Laohai. "Your village's madman—what did he always say?"

"He said he encountered the 'Night Dragon King.'"

"Then it's confirmed!"

Wang Daoxuan's face darkened. He pulled out a compass and examined it closely—the needle wobbled, sometimes freezing, sometimes spinning wildly.

After pacing back and forth several times, he shoved the compass into his robe and said gravely: "I know what they're doing."

Li Yan frowned. "Master, explain."

Wang Daoxuan said gravely: "Do you recall the Dragon King we saw in the Dragon King Temple outside Chongqing, enslaved by Hu Jiao?"

"Of course."

Li Yan asked: "Is this one the same?"

That incident had left a deep impression on him.

Hu Jiao had been the temple's caretaker, yet he enslaved the Dragon King.

One hears of rogue deities secretly enslaving mortals—but never the reverse.

But if the River God Lord was involved, it was no longer strange.

He was an ancient water deity, ruler of Sichuan's aquatic races; these later-worshipped Dragon Kings weren't even worthy to be his grandsons.

"It's likely worse. Wait a moment…"

Wang Daoxuan suddenly remembered something. He spun around, took a scroll from Wu Ba's pack, and flipped through it by torchlight.

The salt gang's men exchanged glances.

They had never encountered anything like this.

They were in the middle of battle—and now he was reading a book?

Li Yan, however, had a suspicion.

This was the secret manual they had found from Hu Jiao.

Hu Jiao's former sect was called the "Four Lords Sect," venerating the Four Rivers' Dragon Kings—originally a proper Daoist school, flourishing in the Tang Dynasty, then declining.

Crucially, the manual recorded the names of countless Dragon Kings, many bestowed by Tang imperial decree—names now largely forgotten.

No matter what they intended to do…

If they knew the name, they could directly perform rites against it.

"Found it!"

Soon, Wang Daoxuan opened a page and said gravely: "This should be the Dragon King of the Chuan River Water Palace, governing the Fujiang and Tuojiang rivers in Sichuan."

Sha Li Fei asked, puzzled: "Master, how did you guess?"

Wang Daoxuan shook his head. "This is a Killing Dragon Site. They built houses to disrupt yin-yang—they're clearly trying to turn the Dragon King into a puppet."

"Imperial bestowals aren't arbitrary—they carry state sacrifices. Though the Tang has fallen, the rank remains."

"Only the Dragon King of the Chuan River Water Palace is worth such effort. Once transformed, he could secretly dominate and plague Sichuan's water deities."

Feng Laohai listened, utterly confused. Though he didn't understand the supernatural, he knew it was a grave danger. He hurriedly asked: "Master, do you have a solution?"

"Of course."

Wang Daoxuan immediately had Wu Ba put down his pack, took out various ritual implements, then found a spot where earth qi had condensed and erected an altar.

"Human hearts are unpredictable, but spirits cannot be deceived."

Wang Daoxuan's eyes flickered with killing intent. "These worldly deities, from the moment they were bestowed, were meant to protect their lands."

"Even if the Tang fell, centuries of incense and devotion cannot be erased by dark magic. We need only give them a push—to awaken the Dragon King again—and these people will reap what they've sown!"

He turned to the group. "I have a 'Dragon King Precious Litany.' I'll write it down for you. When I perform the rite, all of you must sincerely pray and chant it."

Li Yan listened carefully, sensing a faint insight.

These worldly deities, in truth, arise from human hearts—condensed from incense and devotion; over time, they manifest extraordinary power.

Like a peach—rotten on the outside, the core unchanged.

A little push might just bring about a miracle.

The original text is being read!

Like the Dragon King once enslaved by Huo Jiao, once freed even slightly, he would rather turn to ash than let Huo Jiao escape unscathed.

After setting up the altar, Wang Daoxuan turned to Li Yan and the others: "When I perform the rite, strange phenomena will surely arise in the village."

"Those people, sensing something amiss, will surely come out to stop us."

"Master, rest assured!"

Li Yan waved his hand, and the group immediately surrounded the altar.

Wang Daoxuan wanted them to guard the ritual.

Since they didn't know how many opponents there were, they were extremely cautious.

Li Yan and Wu Ba held the front line.

Both were close-combat experts, and they complemented each other perfectly.

Lu San and Sha Lifei guarded beside the altar.

They each possessed ranged attacks and solid martial skill, capable of protecting Wang Daoxuan while also supporting Li Yan.

This was why Li Yan dared to appear so openly.

With several brothers together, no situation could frighten them.

Puff!

Wang Daoxuan lit the sacred candle, swung the money sword, spat ritual water, activated the altar, then pulled out a sheet of yellow paper.

Three folds, two folds—it became a divine tablet.

With a wolf-hair brush dipped in cinnabar ink, he wrote the Dragon King's divine name in one continuous stroke.

But Wang Daoxuan hesitated, then placed beside it a straw effigy and several small metal arrows, just in case.

If the Dragon King couldn't awaken, they'd have to resort to the Seven-Arrow Secret Spell.

After completing all preparations, Wang Daoxuan flipped the money sword and circled the Dragon God's tablet three times clockwise, then three times counterclockwise.

Then he closed his eyes, bowed his head, held the sword in his left hand, and rhythmically tapped the wooden fish with his right, speaking:

"With sincere devotion, I take refuge: the sea as palace, jade isles receiving blessings, descendant of the Heavenly River, sovereign of the boundless deep, entrusted with the Three Heavens, commanded to rule over all spirits…"

This was the "Dragon King's Sacred Litany," used in offerings to the Dragon King.

The Salt Gang members, seeing this, quickly began chanting as well.

At first their chanting was clumsy and uneven, but after several rounds, it gradually unified.

These Salt Gang men, who made their living on the water, had always reverenced the Dragon King, so their chanting came with deep sincerity.

With nearly a hundred voices converging, the sound grew louder and louder.

"Roar—!"

The once-dark village was again swept by violent winds, but the sound now echoed as if passing through fissures, transforming into the roar of beasts.

Soon, black mist churned throughout the village, as if a colossal entity surged up and down, stirring up dust and pebbles across the ground.

"Audacious!"

An angry voice rang out from the strange mansion.

"Go out! Kill them!"

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Amid the clanging of bronze gongs, the doors of those strange mansions suddenly burst open, and figures surged forth.

Their ranks were extremely varied.

Leading the charge were monks and Daoists, knife-wielding killers with scarred faces, women with sinister expressions—all highly skilled.

Behind them were mostly ordinary villagers, armed with swords, spears, and firearms; their gear was decent, but they clearly had only trained in martial arts for a few days.

There was still distance between the large mansions and the village's edge.

Wang Daoxuan ignored them entirely, focusing solely on the ritual.

As the "Dragon King's Sacred Litany" was chanted, the incense smoke from the altar drifted and swirled, as if stirred by wind, circling the Dragon God's tablet.

And the beast-like roars within the wind began to change.

"Roar—!"

"Roar—!"

"Roar—!"

At first, it was the cry of beasts; now, dragon roars emerged.

The earthly deities long enslaved and tormented finally found their chance to breathe—and struck back.

Instantly, the village's winds grew fiercer.

The ordinary disciples with weak martial skill suffered immediately—the wind blinded them, disorienting their paths.

Before they could react, boulders hurled by the wind smashed them down.

As for the front-line experts, they growled in fury, easily dodging flying rocks as they charged toward Li Yan and the others.

"Heh!"

Wu Ba grinned savagely, lowering his body as he gripped his axe.

His left hand pressed against the ground, posture like a beast preparing to pounce.

Boom!

Shards of stone exploded outward as he vanished in an instant.

Wu Ba's abilities and talents resided entirely in his muscular frame; though only at Dark Force level, his strength was so immense even a Softened Force cultivator couldn't withstand it.

The first two to charge were two men.

One wielded a saber, the other a spear.

They blinked, and Wu Ba was already rushing toward them.

"Come on!"

The spearman flicked his shaft, and three shadowy tips instantly appeared.

He practiced the Zi-Wu Spear, originating from Shaolin but popular in the Jiangnan region—his hand moved with the classic "Phoenix Three Nods."

He had used this move countless times, perfectly natural.

If Wu Ba didn't dodge, he'd be speared straight through the eyes; if he dodged, the spearman would follow with "Spear Hides the Man," sidestepping to strike a fatal blow.

But behind him came a voice, almost like a warning.

"Fool! Retreat!"

Before the spearman could react, he heard the clinking of chains and froze, unable to move.

Puff!

Wu Ba swung his axe in passing, cleaving the man in two.

Li Yan had used a refined footwork technique, hiding behind Wu Ba—so close, he was invisible.

He'd seen this tactic used by the Taixuan Zhengjiao; it was perfect for coordinating with Wu Ba.

Clank! Clank!

Li Yan didn't rush to strike; instead, he moved behind Wu Ba, his twin soul-binding chains whirling up and down—anyone who dared approach was instantly immobilized.

With his aid, Wu Ba didn't need to defend at all—he became a tiger among sheep, one axe, one corpse, chopping bodies into bloody fragments.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

These men were skilled, but they'd never seen such brutal, reckless tactics—they scrambled backward in panic.

For now, just Li Yan and Wu Ba had completely suppressed the entire group…

(End of Chapter)