Chapter 590: Breakout

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Heavy footsteps echoed from afar, drawing nearer through the surrounding alleys.

Two thousand elite garrison troops surged from every street like a black tide.

Among them, two hundred Black Feather Guards.

Ordinary Black Feather Guards favored speed, wearing light armor and riding fast horses; but this batch wore black iron heavy armor, each towering in stature, their Divine Fire Guns even larger in size.

Moreover, on each soldier's chest armor was inlaid a brass-engraved talisman, nearly identical to the one Li Yan had seized from Xiong Baodong—only far heavier.

This talisman was called the "Six Ding Six Jia Talisman."

It could protect the body and preserve life, repel demonic arts, and was frequently used in military formations; the Ministry of War of the Great Xuan Dynasty had commissioned special versions to be worn by officers of fifth rank or higher to guard against supernatural interference.

Though not genuine, it could still easily resist magical techniques.

This was the Black Feather Guards' ultimate force: heavy armor to resist blades, the "Six Ding Six Jia Talisman" to ward off magic, combined with more powerful Divine Fire Guns—truly godslayers.

These charging soldiers appeared as if materialized from thin air.

Only meticulous planning could achieve this.

The cold wind howled; inside the Prince's Mansion, everyone's faces turned grim.

At this moment, anyone could tell,

They had fallen into a trap!

Li Yan closed his eyes slightly and exhaled deeply.

Before arriving, he had felt uneasy, but hadn't known why—until this moment, he finally understood.

They had underestimated Lu Sheng.

This was an ancient monster who had deceived the First Emperor, triggered the burning of books and burying of scholars, and had secretly survived to this day—how could he not see the flaws in their plan?

It wasn't a weakness—it was a net.

And today was the day to haul it in.

He had considered that today, as he left the city and saw the Shu Prince, he would summon the Yin Soldiers to crush him on the spot.

But now it seemed the trap outside the city was even more terrifying…

On the street opposite the Prince's Mansion, several Garrison Commanders rode forward on horseback.

The Great Xuan Dynasty's army primarily operated under the Garrison System; each province was managed by a Regional Military Commissioner's Office.

Below that came the "Wei" and the "Suo."

Each "Wei" numbered roughly six thousand men, commanded by one third-rank Commandant; each "Suo" was further divided into Battalion Commands and Company Commands based on troop strength.

These generals were all Garrison Commandants.

The leader wore fish-scale chainmail, his gaze clear and cold.

But none of the soldiers noticed that beneath his thick scarf, dark red veins rose along his neck, like a blood scorpion hidden beneath his skin.

Li Yan's suspicion was correct.

These Garrison Commandants had not been cursed.

That day, they had been lured into the Prince's Mansion, knocked unconscious, and their entire families poisoned with Gu; then promised titles and lands as a reward.

From the start, they knew exactly what they were doing.

The reason was simple: if they were under a mind-control spell, though they would obey orders, their thoughts would be clouded, leading to chaotic actions.

In a disciplined military, this was a fatal flaw—easily detected by subordinates—so the Shu Prince had taken extra care.

Even these Garrison soldiers knew what they were meant to do.

But once action began, there was no turning back; combined with the Shu Prince's fearsome reputation, they clung to hope.

If they succeeded, their status would change instantly.

"Surround them! Leave not a single soul alive!"

"Blow up that rat hole!"

At the leader's command, the black mass of soldiers instantly sealed off the Prince's Mansion completely.

Whoosh!

From the rear ranks, every soldier raised their firelocks.

Though not new weapons, their numbers compensated for their power.

Meanwhile, under the guidance of demonic sorcerers, soldiers stormed the inn, slashing the martial artists guarding the door with swords, then tossing explosive packs into the tunnel.

Boom!

With a thunderous roar, the inn collapsed, dust and broken tiles flying everywhere.

Those inside the Prince's Mansion heard it—and their hearts turned to ash.

"There's still a chance!"

Seeing this, the Wuxiang Prince tore off a sleeve from a corpse, dipped it in blood, and swiftly sketched the nearby terrain, marking several circles.

Though crude, everyone understood clearly.

Three streets from the Prince's Mansion lay four new secret tunnel entrances!

Instantly, hope for survival flickered back to life.

"Everyone, use your best skills—prepare to break out!"

The Wuxiang Prince's eyes blazed with killing intent, his features twisting grotesquely.

Even he wasn't certain he'd survive this.

Thud!

A muffled thump.

As everyone watched for exits, the Grand Prince had somehow moved to the door and suddenly burst through the side entrance, sprinting out.

His python-embroidered brocade robe was caked in dust and blood, his crown askew, one golden silk slipper lost—he ran barefoot through the snow, waving his hands:

"Uncle, save me—"

Boom!

A deafening blast—his head exploded, his headless corpse collapsed to the ground.

The lead Commandant's gaze remained cold as he holstered his smoking flintlock pistol and said calmly: "The demon caused the Grand Prince's death—attack!"

The Grand Prince was naive—seeing things turn sour, he immediately fled, hoping to claim he was being held captive.

Losing his noble title was better than losing his life.

But he didn't know that the uncle who had doted on him since childhood had long harbored bitter hatred.

Killing the Grand Prince meant nothing to the surrounding soldiers.

From all directions within the encircling ranks, two men each charged forward, carrying bamboo ladders.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of ladders clamping against walls erupted as soldiers behind began climbing.

The Prince's Mansion was vast, its walls tall; these soldiers lacked light-body arts and could only resort to siege tactics.

Meanwhile, soldiers armed with powerful bows drew their strings, arrows raining into the compound.

Not to kill, but to provide cover.

"Protect me!"

It was Golden Granny who spoke first.

Everyone knew she intended to use magic to break out—they said nothing, charging toward the walls under the arrowstorm.

Already, soldiers had scaled the walls and raised their weapons.

"Hah!"

A giant resembling a butcher bellowed, leapt from the wall, and delivered a Ba Ji "Heart-Driving Elbow."

Though not as towering as Wu Ba, he had entered Dark Force, his power immense.

Thud!

With a muffled crack, the soldier's breastplate shattered; his body flew backward, crashing to the ground, spewing blood.

The giant didn't look back—he grabbed another soldier's wrist, shook his arm, and with a series of crunching bone snaps, twisted it into a knot using "Great Twisting Silk."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Before the soldier's screams ended, a hail of gunfire erupted.

The butcher-like giant's body erupted in blood, crashing from the wall, gurgling foam from his mouth, his eyes slowly dimming.

This was the change brought by firearms.

The giant's name was Zhu Laosan, a famed hero from Shuncheng Alley in Chengdu, well-connected in the martial world.

He had trained in Ba Ji and possessed hardened qi.

With qi channeled, arrows and hidden weapons could not pierce him.

But his old habits had killed him.

Of course, no one had time to care now.

The Prince's Mansion was too large, their numbers too few—they could only defend the front hall; meanwhile, soldiers had already climbed into the rear courtyard, forming ranks and firing toward the front hall.

But this narrow space was ill-suited for firearm assaults.

As the soldiers rushed past the gatehouse, a man from the Canal Guild dropped from the rafters above, skewering their throats with split-water daggers.

The split-water daggers had blood grooves—when withdrawn, they pulled out half the throat. But moments later, the Canal Guild man was riddled with bullets…

"Hah!"

The blind Daoist of Jinmen now revealed his superior skill.

He flicked his dust whisk, snaring three crossbow bolts, listened to the wind to pinpoint their origin, and whipped them upward onto the roof, killing a soldier—but gunshots immediately followed.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire continued, yet the blind Daoist remained unharmed.

But his somewhat foolish spirit medium, using his massive body as a shield, collapsed on the ground, riddled with bloodied holes.

"Foolish boy!"

The Daoist let out a mournful cry and pulled a black jar from his robe.

This was the Wandering Soul Jar, bound in layers of red rope, sealed with yellow talismans and weighted down with a few suppressive coins—clearly containing some evil entity.

The Daoist, blind and knowing death was inevitable, sought to take a few with him.

!

Crack!

The black jar shattered on the ground, and thick black smoke surged upward.

Even in daylight, a hissing, unnatural sound could be heard from within.

"Find them!"

The Daoist roared in fury, slashing his own face into pulp, then chanted incantations nonstop, pointing forward.

Hssss~

A furious wind surged, and the black smoke lunged toward the soldiers.

But at that moment, the black-teach lama Doge Zaxi on the street outside sneered, unhooked a bone prayer wheel from his waist, shook it, and chanted the sutras backward.

"Hezuo Ribasa Pade…"

This was his original black-teach lineage, once used for blessing and exorcism—but the old demon's reversed chanting turned it into a ferocious dark art.

The black mist instantly reversed, engulfing the blind Daoist; as it dissipated, he stood transformed into a desiccated corpse.

"Kill!"

The Prince of Formlessness, face brimming with murderous intent, moved like a phantom, dodging arrows while slaying seven or eight men in succession.

At this moment, his heart was filled with rage.

These dead martial artists, though all villains of the black path, had been his friends, helping him survive his darkest hours.

He never imagined they would all perish today.

Li Yan also struck without mercy.

He could have escaped using his concealment technique—but if he fled, the entire resistance alliance would become a laughingstock.

Thinking of this, he glanced toward the hall.

There, the Golden Granny stood grim-faced before the undismantled altar, wearing the Zi Gu Nuo mask, pulling one clay jar after another from a basket beside her and placing them upon the altar.

As the old woman danced the Nuo ritual, all the clay jars shattered.

Swarms of venomous creatures poured forth: red centipedes, tiny poisonous flies, venomous snakes as long as chopsticks—rushing in every direction.

These creatures possessed uncanny intelligence and moved at blinding speed; in moments, the soldiers' faces turned black as poison took hold and they dropped dead.

The survivors surged toward the door.

The Nuo altar's "Five Poisons Clear the Way" technique!

Li Yan was startled, hope rising in his heart.

He had heard of this technique from Long Yan—its power was immense.

Yet the lama outside, Doge Zaxi, shook his bone prayer wheel again and flung seven bone beads from his sleeve.

Plop! Plop! Plop!

A series of sharp cracks—the beads embedded themselves into the stone slabs before the Wang Fu gate, clearly the work of a masterful hidden-weapon technique.

The bone beads settled into the shape of the Big Dipper.

This was no Xuanmen Seven Stars Array—it was the demon lama's own dark art: the "Seven Stars Lock."

Hummmmm!

All the bone beads trembled simultaneously.

The venomous creatures, seemingly bound by some unseen force, writhed chaotically within the Wang Fu grounds but could not escape.

The Golden Granny gritted her teeth and continued the Nuo dance.

Yet her cultivation was no match for the demon lama; she was immediately counterattacked, her face turning deathly pale as she spat blood.

Still, the venomous creatures had poisoned every soldier who had breached the gate, halting this assault.

"Bring that thing forward!"

The lead Regional Military Commissioner's face darkened instantly.

Soldiers behind scrambled into action; eight men strained together, hauling a short cannon to the front of the Commandery Prince's mansion.

The cannon was forged from purple copper, its muzzle carved with a snarling tiger's head, supported by two beast-like claws—it was the "Tiger Zun Cannon."

Several soldiers picked up gunpowder packs and began stuffing them inside.

Li Yan smelled the powder and turned pale.

This "Tiger Zun Cannon" was precisely the one they had lost—and later seized by the Shu Wang Fu.

Forged with spiritual materials, it could withstand modern gunpowder.

And the powder the soldiers loaded was indeed modern gunpowder—dense, potent, enough to obliterate the entire Commandery Prince's mansion with a single shot.

"Close your eyes!"

With no other choice, Li Yan pulled out his Gou Die, formed hand seals, and chanted: "Qing Jia! Above, black heaven; below, black earth; black heaven holds no light, black earth holds no gate…"

"No!"

The black-teach lama outside heard it, spun around, and fled—his body coiling into rolling black smoke, vanishing from the street in an instant.

It was the method to summon the Yin Si's troops.

To be honest, Li Yan did not wish to expend this final card—but now he had no choice.

The black-teach lama's cultivation was profound, blocking the exit; he might break Li Yan's concealment technique. Worse, the heavily armored Black Feather Guards stood in formation at a distance.

Beside them stood a gaunt, wide-eyed man.

Without doubt, he possessed some form of divine sight.

Two hundred Divine Fire Guns firing in unison—even ten Grand Masters would die.

Hearing Li Yan's cry, the Prince of Formlessness and others quickly shut their eyes.

They knew exactly what this was—and their fawning over Li Yan stemmed precisely from this technique's ferocity.

Instantly, darkness swallowed everything around them.

Frost, visible to the naked eye, spread outward with the darkness.

The soldiers of the Garrison were confused, retreating cautiously.

They had no idea what this was—not even the Regional Military Commissioners understood.

Neighhh!

Their warhorses screamed in terror and collapsed to their knees.

Though skilled, the Commissioners leapt through the air to land—but before they could react, the darkness consumed them.

Faintly, they heard the clinking of chains, then lost consciousness…

"Run!"

The Wang Fu's dark-art practitioners were terrified, turning and fleeing, each wishing they had wings on their backs.

Against this power, no technique could stand.

Darkness spread swiftly,

about to swallow the heavily armored Black Feather Guards.

Li Yan felt it, and sighed in relief.

The great lama had fled; these Black Feather Guards were now the greatest threat. Eliminate them, and everyone could escape safely.

Summoning Yin Si troops via the Gang Ling was no trivial matter; it was acceptable for slaying demons, but killing too many humans would violate the Yin Laws and bring trouble.

The Black Feather Guards clearly sensed the danger; they turned and fled in panic—but their heavy armor slowed them down more than anyone else.

The darkness loomed, ready to engulf them.

At that moment, a yellow silk scroll whistled through the air and was pinned directly to the Wang Fu's main gate by an arrow.

What Li Yan feared most happened.

The Yin Si troops began to retreat…

(End of Chapter)