Chapter 649: Luoyang Duel of Arts

Crack!

Lu San, who had been dancing the Nuo dance, suddenly stopped.

He turned toward the cellar entrance, his ears twitching slightly, his face expressionless.

Lu San was always cautious.

When he first met Li Yan, he had already planned his escape route—jumping down the mountain using a paper kite.

He bore all the blame in Guanzhong, facing countless hunters from the Imperial Commandant's Office to local underworld bosses, yet not a single trace of him was ever found—clearly, Lu San was no ordinary man.

Under such circumstances, how could he have made no preparations?

To his surprise, the attackers outside had used some kind of technique to evade the rat swarm's detection.

In an instant, the rolling sound of the wooden bomb and the hissing of its fuse grew louder in his ears.

Lu San remained calm, swept his hand across his waist, and a steel awl appeared in his grip.

The club and the awl were his favored weapons, long mastered to perfection.

With a light toss, the awl flipped midair, then he gripped its sharp tip and hurled it with force.

Shhh!

The awl shot out with a whistle.

The entrance to the cellar was a sloped ramp.

The wooden bomb had barely rolled into the cellar when it was struck and flung upward.

Lu San's strength was astonishing—the bomb shot up seven or eight meters after bouncing off the ramp.

At that exact moment, the fuse burned to its end.

The Japanese monk's pupils shrank; he rolled sideways and dove behind a wall.

Boom!

Flames roared, smoke scattered in all directions.

Splashed earth and dust instantly engulfed the surroundings.

From within the dust, a figure suddenly rose from the ground—it was Lu San, eyes brimming with murderous intent.

He leapt forward at incredible speed, using the form of Xiangxing Quan, his body nearly horizontal.

A swift "whoosh" echoed—the ground left a curved trail of dust as Lu San arrived at the wall, crouching low, his club aimed downward.

Yet behind the wall, there was no one.

A flicker of surprise crossed Lu San's eyes.

When he accidentally built the third story in the Witch Mountain Goddess Palace, he had not prepared sufficiently, so he had not activated his second divine ability.

The benefit was that his hearing ability was greatly enhanced.

He understood the languages of birds, beasts, and plants more clearly, and his hearing range surpassed even Li Yan's.

He had clearly heard the sound just now,

so why was the person gone?

Clang!

At that moment, a blade's flash sliced through the dust behind him.

Lu San spun around instantly and pulled the trigger.

A thunderous boom erupted—the figure and the blade exploded together.

Yet there was no trace of blood, only scattered wood shavings.

From another side, several hidden weapons surged forward like a gale.

Moreover, from the earth pile behind Lu San, a figure suddenly leapt out.

The attackers were, in fact, two men.

Lu San did not know that both men came from the Ichinen Sect.

Their core doctrine was "Other-Power Original Vow"—attaining rebirth in the Pure Land by chanting "Namo Amitabha Buddha"—nearly identical to the Maitreya Sect in origin, and they were also the ones inciting peasant uprisings.

During the Warring States period, the Ichinen Sect had organized the "Ichinen Ikki," an armed rebellion against feudal lords.

Because entry was simple and profit-driven, many Japanese dharma-lineage practitioners joined.

Like these two monks, they had originally been Koga ninja, masters of assassination.

They fought in perfect tandem, precisely calculated human psychology, and were ruthlessly efficient.

A common cultivator facing this pincer attack would have had no chance to escape.

Yet Lu San remained utterly calm, not even moving.

No good!

The two monks suddenly felt a chill rise in their hearts.

But it was too late.

Hum!

A thunderous roar suddenly echoed from the darkness above.

There, the hawk Liding, clutching the demonic gourd, swooped down swiftly from the sky; a dense swarm of venomous bees surged forth like a black cloud, instantly engulfing the two monks.

This was Lu San's true setup.

Rat One and Rat Two controlled the surrounding rat swarms.

Hawk Liding, clutching the demonic gourd, launched a surprise aerial attack.

Not to mention Little White Fox, still hiding in the shadows, ready at all times to confuse enemies into fighting each other.

It was a three-dimensional defense with not a single gap.

These two monks thought luring Lu San to fire would succeed, unaware that his true power was never firearms, but the many spirit beasts at his side.

In an instant, their screams were drowned by the swarm.

Lu San paid no attention, instead gazing into the distance, a flicker of worry in his eyes.

If he was attacked here, the other array nodes were likely under assault too.

But under these circumstances, all he could do was hold the core and trust his companions.

Without hesitation, Lu San returned to the cellar.

Indeed, in this short time, all the green grass on the dark wood turtle statue had withered, black smoke rose again, and frost spread outward relentlessly.

As Lu San resumed his Nuo dance, the frost slowly retreated…

…………

Lu San was right—all array nodes had been attacked.

But the end came even faster than at his location.

On Tianjin Bridge, the ground was littered with wreckage.

Wu Ba's eyes were bloodshot; his massive hand crushed the skull of a Japanese monk.

Around him lay nothing but ruins.

Besides the two Japanese monks, many men wielding sharp blades lay dead.

These were all local Maitreya followers from Luoyang.

The Ichinen monks attacking here were not ninja, but true Pure Land monks, fluent in Han speech, inciting the city's Maitreya rebels to charge toward Tianjin Bridge.

Their minds were cruel—they hoped Wu Ba would hesitate, allowing the mob to overwhelm him.

But for Wu Ba, enemies were enemies—no difference at all.

Beneath the bridge, many more Maitreya followers remained.

They held torches and blades, yet none dared advance.

Crack!

As Wu Ba crushed the Japanese monk's skull and raised the nearby tiger squat cannon, the dense crowd below finally panicked, turned, and fled in disarray…

At the Chenghuang Temple, the scene was even stranger.

On the street outside the temple, blade flashes and bloodshed, shouts of battle never ceased.

Japanese monks and Maitreya followers now fought each other like madmen.

Above, "Frost Moths" flitted about, glowing faintly like stars in a blood-red night sky.

Inside the Chenghuang Temple, Long Yan stood before the altar, watching coldly…

…………

Meanwhile, at Yin Jiuge's location, another scene unfolded.

In the center of the long street, the once pitch-black soul-summoning banner had been bound.

It was wrapped in scraps of patched robes, greasy and reeking of sweat.

Who could have imagined this was also a celestial treasure, with a prestigious origin?

The patched robe was stitched from one hundred and eight pieces of different fabrics—appearing greasy and black, yet beneath the grime lay Han Shu brocade, Tang hemp cloth, Song cotton silk, Daxing felt… faintly visible were Sanskrit script, Daoist talismans, and folk auspicious patterns.

During the Red Turban Rebellion, the Beggar Clan elder "Iron-Bone Liu" sewed these scraps with beggar children's rags into the "Ten Thousand People's Robe," enshrined before the Ancestral Altar, absorbing the incense of displaced refugees to resist the Wolf Kingdom's massacre.

In the eighteenth year of Zhizheng, Liu Futong attacked Bianliang; this robe helped Beggar Clan disciples rescue three thousand women and children from the chaos, its hem soaked in mutton fat and blood, gaining spiritual awareness, becoming a celestial treasure ever since.

Years ago, it was acquired by a treasure-seeker using "Sniffing Earth Dragon," and eventually came into Yin Jiuge's hands.

With this object to suppress it, not only was the soul-summoning banner neutralized, but even the former Wanxiang Divine Palace array node remained unharmed.

Yet on this long street, the atmosphere remained eerie.

The mist was hazy, but unlike before, its chill was not intense.

No frost formed on the ground; the mist was like thin gauze, with shadowy figures moving within.

In the street, two elderly Japanese monks held up a green lantern together.

Inside the lantern, a green ghostly flame flickered, casting everything around in a ghastly green glow.

Above the lantern, the faint silhouette of a pale woman appeared and vanished.

Her kimono hem was soaked in blood, each flap sewn with white talismans, her pupils two flickering clusters of blue flame.

Where the green lantern's light fell, the civilians and soldiers who had once been possessed by spirits and later rescued by Yin Jiuge now rose to their feet, hunched over, eyes bloodshot, filled with madness.

Behind the lantern stood another elderly monk, forming the Outer Lion Mudra and reciting the Nine Character Mantra backward.

Under his incantation, one figure after another rose to their feet.

Beside Yin Jiuge stood another man—Jin Yanfeng.

He was called "Jin Yan" because he had awakened the Divine Sight, enabling him to perceive Qi.

But due to his poor aptitude, he had not yet begun cultivation when his ability awakened, and he suffered from an eye disease—his pupils turned golden. After entering the First Tower, he made no further progress and could only work as a treasure appraiser in Luoyang's Ghost Market.

Drawn by the distant green lantern, he couldn't resist using his Divine Sight to look.

But with just one glance, his body froze stiff, his thoughts drifting farther and farther away…

Snap!

In a critical moment, Yin Jiuge slapped him hard on the back of the head.

"Jin Yanfeng" immediately snapped back to awareness, shuddering and refusing to look again, his voice trembling: "Such a powerful dark art! Elder, you've already suppressed all the yin mist—how are they still able to control spirits and harm people?"

"It's not spirit control."

Yin Jiuge glanced at the white female specter and said coldly: "This is a Yǎn spell."

"I've heard that in Japan there's Shinto, where spirit control is called 'Serving the Gods'—this must be it."

"Don't speak nonsense!"

The distant monk, hearing this, flashed a spark of anger and growled: "This is the Aoyami Lantern Woman, the Yǎn of the Hyakumonogatari—not a spirit technique! Though it may not rival the deep-rooted traditions of your Central Plains, it is a legitimate Invocation of the Gods!"

"Hahahaha…"

Yin Jiuge laughed at this, "What nonsense. Spirits are spirits. You've picked up some methods from somewhere, mixed in the Qi of demonic afflictions, and dare call it 'Invoking the Gods'? I'm laughing so hard my teeth might fall out."

Yin Jiuge was one of the Five Yin Sacrifices of the Mingjiao, stationed at the Center of Wu Earth, the eldest in Beifen.

Though age had weakened his Qi and blood, causing his cultivation to regress, his insight remained sharp—he saw through the trick at once.

Though the spirit was strong, what made it truly dangerous was its absorption of the Qi of demonic afflictions.

That was why it could cast the Yǎn spell over such a wide area.

If Li Yan were here, he would recognize the method used by the monk as identical to the one he'd found among the Japanese monks near Gu Du Town outside Chang'an—both derived from the Hundred Demon Night March Record.

Seeing the Japanese monk's anger, Yin Jiuge sneered: "You absorbed the Qi of demonic afflictions—where did you get the nerve? If I'm not mistaken, this method carries grave risks—it probably backfires constantly, doesn't it?"

At these words, the several elderly monks immediately paled.

"Master Shen, don't waste words with him!"

(Master Shen, don't waste your breath!)

One of the monks holding the lantern turned beet red and blurted out in Japanese.

"Hmph!"

The monk behind him let out a cold snort, his hand seals shifting rapidly.

Instantly, the green lantern's light surged violently; the civilians under its control let out bestial roars and charged toward the central flagpole from all directions.

Yin Jiuge's expression turned grave. He stepped the Yu Step, pulled a handful of five-colored earth from his pouch, and scattered it in all directions while chanting: "By the Ever-Hanging Reed, I address the Gate Keeper: Left spear, right axe—demons, halt your steps…"

The technique he used was the Five Sacrifices to Suppress Demons, from the Qin-era Book of Days.

The "Five Sacrifices" refer to the Qin rites for Gate, Door, Well, Hearth, and Central Hearth.

Gate closes, Door opens, Well connects to the netherworld, Hearth generates calamity, Central Hearth stabilizes the Four Directions—Five Sacrifices bring peace to the Eight Directions.

In many regions of Shenzhou, these sacrificial customs still survive today.

What Yin Jiuge used was the Gate Sacrifice: Hanging Reed to Subdue.

Its lineage was ancient, no less potent than the great sects of the Xuanmen.

Hssss~

As he chanted, a fierce wind erupted, sweeping up dust and surrounding the two of them.

Strangely, the people controlled by the Yǎn spell seemed to hit an invisible wall—like beasts roaring wildly, yet unable to advance a single step.

Seeing this, "Jin Yanfeng" widened his eyes in shock.

He had never seen such a miraculous technique before.

The three Japanese monks across from him were equally stunned.

They had infiltrated the Central Plains not only under their sect master's orders, but to steal cultivation techniques.

This level of artistry was something they'd never encountered.

The lead Japanese monk's eyes darkened. Suddenly, he drew a circle on the ground beneath his feet.

Boom!

Down the distant street, gunfire erupted abruptly.

Yin Jiuge, mid-ritual, groaned and staggered backward.

The enemy used ordinary firearms—but even so, his left arm was shattered, bones broken.

The ritual broken, the surrounding wind ceased instantly.

"Cowardly and vile!"

"Jin Yanfeng" burst into fury, rushing to shield Yin Jiuge behind him.

"You're the fool!"

The Japanese monk's face remained calm. "The Ding of Yuzhou has emerged—it is destiny. You two are talents. Why die here? Hand over the technique you just used, and I'll let you go."

Jin Yanfeng spat on the ground. "Fuck your mother!"

"Hmph!"

Hearing this, the Japanese monk's killing intent flared. He began chanting again.

"Roar—!"

Countless mad screams rose as the crowd surged forward.

Oh no~

Jin Yanfeng sighed in despair and closed his eyes.

At that moment, a withered voice sounded from behind:

"Millet, rice, wheat, grain—Hearth Lord, Keeper of Fate. Yangsui draws fire, Yin talismans turn to ash…"

It was Yin Jiuge rising again, chanting the incantation with one hand forming seals.

His pouch had completely fallen away.

Countless grains of dust drifted with the incantation.

Wherever it passed, the mad civilians screamed in agony.

The white female specter upon the green lantern burst into blood-red flames.

The Japanese monks used the green lantern as a medium to cast the Yǎn spell upon ordinary people.

Now, those same people had become Yin Jiuge's ritual medium.

He was using the Hearth Sacrifice: Five Grains Burn the Yin, from the Five Sacrifices to Suppress Demons.

A peerless technique for subduing demons and killing spirits.

The three Japanese monks across from him turned pale.

The lead monk spun around and roared toward the distance: "Act now!"

But there was no response from afar.

In the darkness, Sha Li Fei swiftly drew his Guanshan Dao.

The Japanese gunman's throat spurted blood—he collapsed, dead.

At the same moment, Yin Jiuge reached the final line:

"Six Armies of Hungry Ghosts—here's your feast!"

"Aaaah—!"

A piercing scream rang out as the Aoyami Lantern Woman dissolved into green smoke.

The three Japanese monks' eyeballs burst simultaneously—they collapsed, dead.

"Elder!"

Sha Li Fei and Wang Daoxuan rushed from the street and caught Yin Jiuge as he nearly collapsed.

"I'm fine."

Yin Jiuge gritted his teeth, stood upright, and turned toward the Wang Fu. "You've come just in time—Young Li Yan is likely trapped. Help me break the array!"

(End of Chapter)