Chapter 553: Snow Forest, Slaying the Demon Man

The journey to Qingcheng Mountain not only succeeded in building the tower but also brought a qualitative transformation to Li Yan's cultivation method.

Previously, in every battle, even when using the Fengdu Examination Ritual, he often relied on Wang Daoxuan's assistance.

Now, they could coordinate with each other.

With distant ritual combat, mid-range firearms, and close-quarters martial arts, Li Yan had finally filled his last gap.

The hook-scroll stabilized the altar; the candle flame turned green.

This was a sign of extremely dense yin-sha qi.

The Buried Treasure seekers of the Profound Path would light treasure candles as warnings when entering tombs, for this very reason.

Li Yan now understood the hook-scroll more deeply.

It was nothing but a passage.

Connecting the underworld with the mortal realm.

That was why it could summon the yin-bureaucracy's troops.

Through this treasure, he could also draw forth yin-sha qi from the underworld.

The yin-sha qi surged upward, the surrounding temperature plummeted, and even Wang Daoxuan's altar was disturbed.

Of course, Wang Daoxuan trusted Li Yan completely, so he merely clenched his teeth and strained to maintain the altar's stability.

After drawing forth the underworld's yin-sha qi, Li Yan immediately formed a hand seal and chanted:

"Palace of the Northern Emperor, Commander Tianpeng, Strength-Bringers and Messengers, hasten to the altar! Swiftly answer the call, race like lightning, rush like wind! Heaven grows dark, earth turns black, sun and moon dimmed. Ten thousand demons bow their hands—when the talisman arrives, obey!"

This was the "Summon Strength-Bringers and Messengers Spell" from the Fengdu Method.

The Fengdu Method primarily summoned the underworld's forces, and summoning strength-bringers was its foundational technique, cultivable at the First Layer.

For Li Yan, it was effortless.

Huh~

As the spell completed, fierce winds erupted, yin-sha qi rose, and frosty mist churned within the cave.

Within the white mist, shadowy figures seemed to appear.

These were the Lishì of Luofeng Mountain.

Their greatest ability was to assist the altar.

These black shadows spun rapidly, pouring pure yin-sha qi into the altar; the green flame leapt three feet high.

As the altar's master, Wang Daoxuan could easily sense the massive influx of yin-sha qi—and that he could now command it.

The Daoist understood instantly; his right hand still held the bronze arrow, his left hand formed a seal and pointed forward.

Huh~

A freezing wind howled; the yin-sha qi surged forth, mingling with the green flame burning on the candle, blasting toward the altar's front.

Then it vanished, as if piercing through space to some distant place…

……………

The bamboo grove was deep and silent, covered in accumulated snow.

On a clearing near the cliff, another altar stood—but its appearance was strange.

Upon the altar stood a statue.

The statue was crude, like a rotting tree root, overgrown with dead branches and weeds, barely resembling a human form.

The offerings were equally odd.

The Daoist tradition requires five offerings.

Incense, flowers, lamp, water, fruit.

Even in urgent rituals, when full offerings were unattainable, substitutes were used.

For example, Wang Daoxuan, unable to find fresh fruit in winter, carved a peach from jade and always placed it on the altar.

But this altar's setup was entirely different.

The same five offerings—yet the incense was black, emitting red smoke, and the fruit was a child's skull…

It clearly was no orthodox thing.

Behind the altar stood the old woman Chang.

Her face was now ashen, grim and grotesque, matching the embroidered "longevity" robe she wore—she looked like an ancient ghost crawling from a tomb.

She sat cross-legged, her dragon-headed cane raised high; as she chanted, the scripture wheel in the dragon's mouth spun rapidly.

Strange sounds echoed all around.

Around the altar were countless small animals.

Each time the old woman chanted, a wisp of black qi flew from the bowl and entered the mouth of one animal.

Whether snake, tiger, wolf, or badger, once it inhaled the black qi, it twisted in agony, skin split open, life extinguished.

Around the altar, animals lay dead in heaps.

This was the "Transference of Calamity" technique, a form of exorcism ritual, passed down by both orthodox and heretical lineages.

But such rituals, which sacrificed innocent lives to shift calamity, contradicted orthodox principles, so they were rarely seen.

It was through this method that Chang had survived until now.

Her eyes brimmed with venom; her right hand gripped the dragon-headed cane, her left held a coffin nail.

The coffin nail was rusted, stained with foul blood.

Unnaturally cold, radiating ill omen.

Even this skilled old woman's fingers, gripping the nail, had turned black—proof of its malevolence.

Yet Chang did not act immediately.

In distant ritual combat, timing was critical.

She was also a master of spells; she had already recognized that Wang Daoxuan used the "Seven Arrow Secret Spell."

This spell was famous and potent, but had a flaw.

Ordinary sorcerers could barely fire two arrows.

The higher the level, the harder it became.

In popular folk tales like "Investiture of the Gods," the "Seven Arrow Nail of Doom" could even kill immortals—proof of its power.

But ordinary sorcerers could manage at most two arrows.

And two arrows held little threat to a master.

Thus, despite its widespread fame, few practiced it.

Moreover, this spell had another major flaw.

Though easy to cast—once a medium was found, it could be used even across vast distances—it would backfire if it failed.

Once, a cultivator attempted to curse another and died from the backlash in his own home.

Chang was waiting for Wang Daoxuan to suffer the backlash.

Then she would casually use the coffin nail to curse him.

He would die without doubt!

But at that moment, movement came from the distant bamboo grove.

Chang's face changed; she shrieked in a hoarse, shrill voice: "Guardians! Do not let them enter!"

Three figures instantly emerged from the bamboo grove.

The gong-beater, the erhu player, the lute-playing woman.

They were the musicians of the "Ghost Opera Troupe."

Dong-dong-dong!

The strongman beat the gong and drum in rapid rhythm; the old man drew his erhu; the woman's fingers bloomed like lotus petals as she plucked the liuqin.

Their coordination created a sensation of crashing waves and raging storms.

Huh~

A fierce wind erupted within the bamboo grove; thick white mist surged.

Chang had chosen this location for a reason—she had prepared.

She had studied the Earth Master's methods; though not top-tier, she could easily manipulate terrain to create fengshui illusions.

Combined with the musicians' aid, their power surged.

Instantly, the bamboo grove was shrouded in dense fog, obscuring all directions.

Those who rushed in were naturally Sha Lifei and his two companions.

After killing the gunman, they headed straight here.

"Don't move recklessly!"

Seeing the thick mist rise, Lu San raised his hand, halting Sha Lifei and the other; then he tapped his waist gourd.

Wum!

Instantly, venomous bees surged out, scattering everywhere.

Lu San did not understand arrays; he could only use this to break them.

These venomous bees were like spirit beasts, inherently possessing yin-sha qi; though they too became trapped in the array, they could help the demonic gourd find its weaknesses.

Dang-dang-dang!

But as soon as they were released, the liuqin's melody shifted abruptly.

The sound grew frantic, like a death decree.

The surrounding venomous bees were immediately affected, flying wildly; many crashed into bamboo stalks and fell to the ground, motionless.

Lu San's face changed, and he quickly tapped the demonic gourd.

Hum!

The remaining poison bees immediately returned into the gourd.

Just that one move cost him two-tenths of his force.

All things under heaven have birth, transformation, and mutual restraint. These poison bees were incredibly effective against martial experts and ordinary sorcerers, but against masters of sonic arts, they were instantly at a disadvantage.

Dong dong dong!

The drumbeats continued, growing ever faster.

The three felt their hearts pounding wildly, syncing with the drumbeats, as if they would burst from their chests any moment—excruciatingly unbearable.

Not only that, the surrounding bamboo grove seemed to come alive, spinning rapidly around them.

This was a sign of being trapped in an illusionary art.

"Damn it!"

Sha Li-fei cursed, pulled out his last fire caltrop from his backpack, lit it, and tossed it to Wu Ba.

At the same time, he dragged his foot across the ground, drawing a line.

Though trapped in this illusion array, they hadn't panicked or run wild, so their basic sense of direction remained intact.

"Throw it over there!"

No mistake in direction, content, or aim!

Sha Li-fei shouted, and Wu Ba immediately seized the fire caltrop, strained his arm, and hurled it forward with all his might.

The fire caltrop shot out like a cannonball.

"Down!"

Sha Li-fei shouted, and all three dropped to the ground.

Boom!

A thunderous explosion erupted ahead, sending shockwaves surging outward.

Large sections of bamboo grove collapsed, howling winds whipped up the snow on the ground, and above them came the swift zip-zip-zip of shrapnel tearing through the air.

After the explosion, the musical sounds ceased instantly.

The thick fog around them also dissipated at a visible rate.

Seeing this, Sha Li-fei chuckled.

He had once consulted Wang Daoxuan: array formations always relied on various artifacts—buried underground or placed around the perimeter.

But these artifacts were typically concealed by the array itself.

Thus, there were two ways to break an array.

One was clever force: discerning yin and yang, calculating the Eight Trigrams, and locating the array's core.

The other was brute force: using powerful sorcery to shatter the array by sheer strength.

But weren't firearms themselves a form of brute force?

At this moment, Sha Li-fei silently regretted it.

Back in Shennongjia, they had seized a tiger-crouching cannon from their enemies, forged from golden spirit material, extremely fierce.

On the mountain, it had been a single man holding the pass, impregnable against ten thousand.

The only flaw was its weight.

Only Wu Ba, with his raw strength, could wield it easily.

Sha Li-fei had originally planned to bring it to Qingcheng Mountain and ask that fire-headed monk to modify it—for Wu Ba, a handheld cannon—and he'd even drawn up the schematics.

Unfortunately, when leaving Fengdu, because the load was too heavy, they left it on the boat, and the Wang Fu people stole it.

If they had that thing,

who would fear a damn illusion array?

These thoughts flashed through Sha Li-fei's mind, then he rose abruptly, raised his Divine Fire Gun, and advanced slowly.

Lu San also raised his bone club.

His spiritual powers were temporarily unusable; the keen-eared little white fox, Chu Qi, took up the burden, crawling low through the snow.

The two followed behind, both holding firearms.

Wu Ba trailed closely behind, ready to charge at any moment.

Soon, they found their target.

Beneath a patch of bamboo, a woman lay face-down, her chest riddled with holes, blood gushing out; beside her, the willow zither lay broken in two, already lifeless.

This woman was the unluckiest.

The fire caltrop exploded directly in front of her—she died instantly.

As for the old man, he too lay on his back, his face blackened, a hole torn in his abdomen, his intestines spilling out as he groaned in agony.

Around them, a single bloody footprint trailed off into the distance—clearly, another person had fled.

Sha Li-fei stepped forward immediately, swung his long knife, and severed the old man's head; he paid no mind to the fleeing one.

They pressed on, finally reaching the open ground.

The old woman before the altar frowned darkly.

"Go!"

She abandoned her duel with Wang Daoxuan, swung her dragon-headed cane, and chanted a spell while forming hand seals.

On her altar sat a black pottery jar.

It looked ancient, as if a relic from primitive tribes.

The black pottery jar cracked with a sharp snap.

Hu~

A gale howled, and a vast cloud of dust burst forth, drifting and swirling toward Sha Li-fei and the others.

"Spread out!"

Seeing this, Lu San's face turned pale.

He shoved Sha Li-fei and the others aside, formed hand seals, pulled out his bone flute from his waist, and blew a mournful note.

The flute's sound was sorrowful, carrying the aura of ancient wilderness.

The dust seemed alive, halting midair, drifting left and right.

No wonder Lu San was tense—he had seen this before.

Even the *Scripture of Spiritual Responses of the Mountains and Seas* recorded it.

In ancient times, before burial rites existed, some corpses infected with malevolent qi transformed into terrifying entities like the Ganba.

The Ganba was a nightmare.

After slaying it, its malevolent qi would erupt, poisoning thousands of li, triggering droughts and plagues.

Ancient tribes had great shamans who burned the Ganba, using the power of spirits and gods to seal its ashes and plague toxins inside pottery jars.

But this method proved ineffective.

The plague toxins became malevolent entities—if anyone accidentally shattered the jar, they would continue spreading, poisoning and infecting with deadly disease.

No one knew where this old woman had found it…

Lu San had no time to explain; as he blew the flute, he tapped his demonic gourd, sending the swarm of poison bees surging out once more.

Although the bees were restrained by sonic arts, they in turn suppressed the demonic poison.

The bee swarm flew into the drifting dust, buzzing wildly, devouring it—rapidly thinning the plague toxin.

Wu Ba and Sha Li-fei weren't idle either.

One moved left, the other right, circling around the plague mist.

Seeing her protective array fail, Old Lady Chang's face twisted with venomous rage; she turned and fled.

She knew this battle was utterly lost.

There was no time for further struggle—she had to escape far enough before Wang Daoxuan's curse succeeded, then hide and break the spell.

Hu~

But at that moment, a black mist appeared out of nowhere.

Instantly, the surroundings grew bitterly cold.

It was the Yin Bureau's malevolent qi.

Old Lady Chang's face changed—but it was too late.

The icy black mist engulfed her head to toe.

The old woman stiffened instantly, frost spreading across her body.

Such terrifying malevolent qi was unbearable for mortal flesh.

Boom!

Sha Li-fei, quick as lightning, pulled the trigger.

The old woman's upper body exploded, blood and flesh spraying mixed with frost; her lower half collapsed with a thud onto the ground.

Meanwhile, at Wang Daoxuan's altar:

Pu~

The cursed straw effigy suddenly emitted green smoke and ignited on its own.

This was the sign the target was dead.

Wang Daoxuan exhaled in relief and immediately dismantled the altar.

"They've got it!"

"Go see!"

Li Yan nodded and escorted Wang Daoxuan toward the dense forest.

Only after seeing Chang Aba's corpse did they finally confirm no enemies remained nearby, and only then did they exhale in relief.

"The cowards."

Sha LiFei wiped the sweat from his brow and gritted his teeth. "This ghost opera troupe is a real pain—since last night, they haven't said a word."

Li Yan nodded, his expression grim as he gazed into the distance.

"It's more than that—this is only a small squad of the ghost opera troupe."

"With their return to the mountains, who knows what chaos they'll stir up..."

(End of Chapter)