Chapter 548: Strong Enemy Ambush, Peril Looms

What is this thing?

Sha Lifei was startled and tried to look down.

Yet a chill spread from his ankle, like solid ice rapidly creeping upward, soon engulfing his entire body.

As if trapped in the netherworld.

His whole body stiffened; he could not even look down, speak, or move—his senses began to be smothered.

His vision darkened swiftly; the wind's howl grew distant.

Even his thoughts grew sluggish.

Sha Lifei felt something trying to seize his body, filling him with fear and despair.

Fortunately, he was not alone.

Wang Daoxuan, beside him, drew his Coin Sword, changed his hand seals, swept the blade with his palm, then stabbed backward at the hand.

Plos!

Wang Daoxuan was not skilled in martial arts and lacked strength, yet the Coin Sword sliced through like a hot knife through butter, piercing straight in.

Worse still, white smoke hissed from the wound.

The hand convulsed in pain, yet from underground came a mocking, giggling laugh—it refused to release Sha Lifei.

"It's ghostly qi!"

Wang Daoxuan frowned, formed another hand seal, then bit his fingertip and smeared blood across the Coin Sword.

"Ahh—!"

This time, the thing let out a shriek and retracted its hand.

Sha Lifei broke free; his senses snapped back as if pulled from a pitch-black abyss.

He was quick—he drew his other flintlock pistol from his waist, lunged forward, and fired at the ground.

Boom!

A thunderous blast sent dirt spraying everywhere.

A deep crater opened, but no one was hit—only a pair of black hands swiftly retreating into the hole.

"Forget it, run!"

Lu San grabbed him and sprinted forward, whistling sharply.

Though his spiritual arts were temporarily broken, his ability to speak the language of beasts and birds remained intact—he immediately issued orders.

Swish!

The white fox, Chu Qi, leapt out from the side.

Its fur stood on end, nose twitching, small head scanning all around.

Then, suddenly, it darted left.

"Follow Chu Qi!"

Lu San didn't waste words—he barked a low command.

He trusted his companion completely.

Though the enemy had superior strange birds that could counter hawks, Chu Qi was itself a demonic creature, having awakened the ear-spiritual sense.

Combined with its beastly intuition, it could keenly sense danger.

Amidst the endless snowstorm, the white fox moved like a spirit of the snow.

Sha Lifei and the others followed close behind in retreat.

He and Lu San were both Dark Force cultivators—one skilled in Red Fist, the other in Animal Forms Fist—each channeling Dark Force, moving with astonishing speed.

Wang Daoxuan knew no martial arts and moved slowly, but Wu Ba was beside him—he scooped up the Daoist with his left hand and ran after them.

Wind and snow howled; the night was pitch black.

Led by the white fox, they sprinted at full speed.

"Ahead is a river; beyond it lies a mountain range."

Lu San could no longer hear, yet he calmly warned them.

Li Yan had established the team's rule: upon arriving at any location, first memorize the terrain—so if disaster struck, retreat would be swift.

Lu San followed it strictly; the surrounding terrain was etched in his mind.

"Hahaha… rats are here!"

In the night sky came the shrill cry of the Blood Parrot.

This little creature was both a strange beast and a demonic entity, and exceedingly cruel—it possessed offensive power but stayed aloft, circling endlessly, shrieking without landing.

Its purpose, of course, was to inflict psychological pressure.

Like some wild beasts that enjoy watching their prey struggle.

Sha Lifei frowned as he ran, swiftly swapping magazines—but he did not fire.

He knew firing was useless in this environment.

Gunfire would only reveal their position.

Thinking this, Sha Lifei tapped Lu San's shoulder, pointed to the demonic gourd, then behind them.

Lu San understood at once—he formed a hand seal and slapped the demonic gourd.

Hum!

A cloud of black smoke rose.

These poison bees, now cultivated, carried astonishing toxins and were also spiritual beasts—hard-bodied, infused with yin-sha qi.

Even in this bitter cold, they could endure.

"Bugs! Bugs! So many bugs!"

A strange shriek echoed through the air.

The Blood Parrot flitted up and down in the dark, its crimson feathers charged with yin-sha qi, instantly flinging away the approaching poison bees.

Yet the strange bird glanced behind, its eyes flickering with malice—it feigned defeat, shrieking as it retreated.

"Hurry!"

Lu San recalled the poison bees and led the group onward.

Several hundred meters behind them, the Blood Parrot landed on a branch, continuing its shriek: "Bugs! Bugs!"

"Shut up!"

A hoarse voice rang out—the old woman.

She glared at the Blood Parrot, eyes icy, "Those things can't touch you. Next time you play tricks on me, I'll pluck every feather."

Though the Blood Parrot was clever, it was still an animal—it trembled instantly and fell silent.

The old woman turned, her voice low and grave: "They have a spiritual beast guiding them—they've broken through the encirclement.

"I'll deal with that little thing. Gouwa, delay the others. Xie Sanyang, take your music troupe on a detour to block them—they must not cross the river!"

Boom!

From the snow, a head suddenly burst up.

It was the clown with the upward-sprouting braid, his head bobbing as he giggled, "The Daoist has a treasure that counters my arts—I can't win, I can't win, I'm wounded, I can't perform anymore!"

As he spoke, he lifted his right hand from the earth.

The wound from Wang Daoxuan's sword had turned black and rotten, oozing yellow pus.

This dwarf clown was Gouwa.

The old woman, Chang Apo, sneered, "Our troupe is full of talent now—you're not irreplaceable. Fail your task, and others will succeed."

"I know you have your tricks. Go."

Hearing this, Gouwa still looked reluctant, but said nothing—he ducked into the ground.

On the other side, the black-faced swordsman remained silent, nodded, stepped hard—and vanished with a boom.

He reappeared ten meters to the right, dragging his blade, moving with startling speed—behind him, several figures emerged.

Men and women, each carrying various musical instruments.

After they left, the old woman, Chang Apo, raised her dragon-headed cane, shook her head, and let her hair fall loose; she formed a hand seal and sang: "Heaven darkens~ earth grows dim, dark clouds~ blot out sun and moon, all four directions~ silent, cold wind~ cuts like knives…"

Her singing was mournful, as if weeping.

The spinning wheel beneath the dragon-headed cane hummed in response.

If Li Yan were here, he would recognize her hand seals as nearly identical to those of the Night Crier in Chang'an.

A furious wind howled, the sound drifting, spreading across the horizon.

The white fox sprinting through the snow suddenly shrieked, tumbled to the ground, covered in snow, looking utterly disheveled.

"Chu Qi!"

Lu San gasped, snatched it up.

The white fox's fur stood on end, eyes blood-red, fangs bared, thrashing wildly—as if in terrible pain.

Bang!

Lu San gritted his teeth and knocked the fox unconscious, growling, "This is a spirit-subduing spell—they specialize in beast-controlling arts."

"Follow me—cross the river, enter the mountains!"

Saying this, he leapt forward, clutching the fox.

Ahead lay a steep slope; they angled their bodies and slid swiftly down the snow-covered incline, reaching the bottom. "Wait!"

Lu San was about to run again when Sha Lifei grabbed him, raised his firearm, and scanned the surroundings with cold eyes: "There's danger!"

Sha Lifei had awakened the Body Spirit Sense—his senses were strong; though not as sharp as a single-sense cultivator, a martial artist's intuition was still formidable.

Moreover, during those days in the Shituo Forest, wandering daily amid danger like walking a tightrope had honed this spiritual awareness of his.

Sure enough, no sooner had he spoken than disturbances erupted around them.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Gongs and drums suddenly sounded, accompanied by the mournful wail of the erhu.

As if a grand opera had just begun, all instruments joined in unison.

This device is called "Nao Tai" or "Opening Gong."

It is used in traditional operas across all regions at the start of performances.

The gong and drum beats serve as an introduction to set the atmosphere.

Although Sha Li Fei and the others were familiar with it, to their ears it sounded bizarre and grating, making them feel nauseous.

Not a single note, rhythm, or content was out of place!

Moreover, the surrounding scenery instantly stretched out, becoming vast and empty, as if they were moving farther from the riverbank.

"It's sonic illusion art!"

Wang Daoxuan's eyes sharpened; he immediately ordered Wu Ba to unload his backpack and retrieve Li Yan's Yunlei Divine Drum.

He glanced at Sha Li Fei, but then changed his mind, tapped Lu San on the shoulder, and signaled him to strike the drum and break the illusion.

Lu San said nothing; he immediately channeled his strength and struck the drum.

Li Yan's Yunlei Divine Drum was rarely used.

First, it only functions in specific circumstances; second, given his cultivation level and combat style, he seldom needed it.

In the past, only he could activate it.

But since everyone's cultivation improved, all of them could strike it a few times.

Lu San, being deaf, was now even better suited for it.

He adopted a horse stance, channeled hidden power, and struck the drum repeatedly.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A mighty drumbeat resounded.

Lu San did not know thunder arts, so he could not unleash the full power of the Yunlei Divine Drum, but drums were commonly used in shamanic arts, so it produced a different style.

The drumbeats rolled, carrying the flavor of a primitive age.

The two sounds were inherently out of sync, and immediately became chaotic.

Though noisy, it eased their discomfort.

Creak… creak…

Heavy footsteps crunched through the snow.

A black-faced martial actor slowly emerged from the darkness, dragging his guan dao, then removed a mask from his waist and placed it over his face.

It was a face-paint mask, primarily white, accented with red and black.

In stage jargon, it was called "Bai San Kuai Wa."

This mask was likely some kind of artifact.

After donning it, the black-faced actor's aura surged dramatically, radiating a fierce, upright energy as he swung his dao horizontally.

It was clearly some strange "Shen Da Shu."

Sha Li Fei, who often watched operas, immediately recognized the character portrayed and coldly said: "Di Han Chen—how dare you, a demon, impersonate him?!"

He raised his Divine Fire Gun, preparing to fire.

But at that moment, a chill ran down his back; he spun around instantly and pointed the gun downward.

Swish!

A line of snow shot toward them at high speed.

It was the clown, Gou Wa.

Sensing the threat of the Divine Fire Gun, he used Earth Submersion Art, instantly reversed his direction, vanished after moving several meters to the left.

"Don't shoot—he's luring you!"

Wang Daoxuan immediately warned.

"Understood."

Sha Li Fei nodded, holding the Divine Fire Gun steady, carefully watching for movement, ready to pull the trigger the moment the enemy approached.

Meanwhile, the martial actor charged forward.

He wore official boots, yet moved with astonishing speed—only shadows were visible, as if gliding across the snow, with snow spraying behind him.

"Wu Ba, hold him off!"

Wang Daoxuan barked a low order, swiftly pulling out various artifacts and rapidly setting up a temporary altar.

"Roar!"

Wu Ba, already prepared, roared and charged forward with his battle-axe.

Both swung their weapons at nearly the same instant.

Clang!

Sparks flew in the darkness.

Wu Ba stepped back two paces, startled.

The opponent's slash carried astonishing force—nearly knocking the axe from his grip. He had never encountered such a thing before.

The martial actor, too, retreated seven or eight steps, lowering his stance while holding the guan dao, his eyes flickering with surprise.

Wu Ba's monstrous strength had also caught him off guard.

"Hmph!"

The martial actor let out a cold snort, twisted his guan dao with a sharp crack, and detached most of the handle, plunging it into the snow beside him.

His guan dao had always been unusual—its blade was longer—and now, with half the handle removed, it became a massive dao.

He gripped it with his right hand, pressed his left palm down, and assumed the posture of a tiger emerging from its cave.

All this effort had a reason.

The martial actor practiced "Shen Da Fa," mastering three martial arts, each granting a different transformation when invoking the Divine Strike Art.

Hence his name: Xie San Yang.

All three transformations could bring misfortune.

Di Qing, also known as Di Han Chen, was the first.

Legend says Di Qing wielded the "Nine-Ring Golden Drill Fixed Tang Dao," and his techniques were passed down, later compiled into Di Qing Fist.

Using Di Qing's Divine Strike naturally suited the use of a large dao.

Swish!

Wu Ba, unaware of the opponent's tricks, launched a direct assault—his footsteps thundered like a wild ox as he swung his axe downward in a brutal chop.

The black-faced martial actor suddenly spun and kicked upward, evading the axe's edge while his right hand slashed the dao toward Wu Ba's eye.

This move was called "Yecha Tan Hai."

Di Qing Fist had many techniques, emphasizing one step, one motion.

Though slow in execution, its stances were grand, its movements extended, steady and grounded, radiating terrifying momentum.

Even though he now used a weapon, the same style remained.

Wu Ba's martial talent far surpassed Li Yan's—even the prodigy Wu Qu, heir to the Wu Clan's Eight Extremes Fist, had felt compelled to teach him.

After learning Eight Extremes Fist, his combat power had risen significantly.

This technique was easily evaded.

Eight Extremes emphasizes striking in all eight directions, releasing force in every quadrant; combined with Wu Ba's ferocious style, he would never retreat.

Clang!

Wu Ba instantly switched hands, raised his left axe to block, stepped forward with his left foot, and delivered a sudden, powerful roundhouse kick with his right foot.

The Eight Extremes roundhouse kick was a signature move—stealthy, explosive like thunder, swift, and devastating.

One solid hit would shatter bones.

Xie San Yang, aware of its danger, dared not meet it head-on; he suddenly pushed off with one leg, twisted his body, and slid backward instantly.

Wu Ba pressed his advantage, bent his knees, gripped the ground with all ten toes, and launched himself forward with a powerful thrust, while his right fist smashed out.

This was the Eight Extremes "Cheng Chui"—like a drawn bow releasing an arrow.

When Wu Ba used it, it was like a cannon firing—he stomped the ground, and with a thunderous boom, even tore a hole through the falling snow.

Clang!

The martial actor hastily raised his dao to block.

The immense force sent him flying eight or seven meters away.

Xie San Yang, the black-faced martial actor, performed a kite flip, landed steadily, leveled his dao, and his gaze turned grave.

He formed a hand seal; dark aura surged around him, and even his long dao was shrouded in black mist—clearly a martial art.

Meanwhile, the snow erupted violently—the clown Gou Wa burst from the ground, raised a burning stick in his right hand, puffed out his cheeks, and blew.

Hu!

Flames roared, engulfing Lu San…

(End of Chapter)