Chapter 731

As for the Japanese, Wang Daoxuan and his companions were not unfamiliar with them.

During the Luoyang battle, Japanese forces infiltrated Baima Temple and impersonated the Maitreya Sect to orchestrate sabotage, aiding the Ghost Emperor Wang Xuanmo.

Outside the imperial palace, a Japanese elder monk had used a shikigami—“Aoi Row Lantern Woman, Nightmare of the Hyakumonogatari”—at the City God Temple, falsely presenting it as a divine invocation technique, drawing sharp mockery from Yin Jiuge.

Though ultimately defeated, Yin Jiuge suffered severe injuries and permanently withdrew from the martial world.

In short, the Japanese mystical arts system had been heavily influenced by the Central Plains.

Onmyōdō originated from pre-Qin Yin-Yang and Five Elements theory; many ninja techniques stemmed from Daoist Dunjiashu , and ninja lineages such as the Hattori Hanzo clan traced their ancestral roots to Minzhou.

But due to regional customs, they had taken a different path.

More sinister and cruel, and skilled in controlling spirits.

With Wang Daoxuan’s cultivation, they could easily handle such tactics.

Yet the attacks were not limited to just one wave.

Just as Wang Daoxuan had just dispelled the hidden projectile assault—

“Pop!” A dull, muffled sound.

The soft mud beneath his feet collapsed without warning, turning viscous.

A massive, sticky suction instantly wrapped around his legs.

The rotting mud seemed to have come alive.

Ninja technique: Earth Release—Mud Binding!

“Child’s play!”

Wang Daoxuan remained calm, his left hand forming a seal, his right hand thrusting downward sharply; a Huang Fu, clamped between his fingers moments before, shot “whoosh” into the sludge!

“Seal!”

The talisman sank into the mud and ignited instantly.

Bone-chilling cold erupted abruptly.

Crack… crackle!

A layer of frost formed visibly over the previously viscous, writhing mud, then cracks appeared.

Wang Daoxuan lifted his leg; the frozen mud crumbled and fell away with a clatter.

All of this happened within moments.

Neither Lu San nor Wu Ba moved to assist.

First, they knew these tricks could not harm Wang Daoxuan.

Second, the real attack was still coming!

“Over there!”

A hiss like a venomous snake emerged from the grass; Lu San immediately flicked his wrist, launching a steel dart.

The dart had barely entered the grass when a blade’s flash appeared, deflecting it away.

“Roar!”

Wu Ba bellowed, like thunder splitting the earth!

He leapt forward, his massive frame surging through the air with a rushing wind.

Mid-air, his palm—broad as a fan—clenched tightly; a specially forged steel gauntlet dropped from his forearm, unleashing a furious blast of qi as it slammed forward.

Before the fist even reached, the grass had been crushed flat by the wind pressure.

Indeed, two ninja were hiding there.

In the misty rain, a shadow nearly blending into the night, slick as a water snake, slithered along the inner side of Wu Ba’s thick arm, twisting upward.

Like a venomous snake climbing a pole.

In the shadow’s hand, a short blade flashed with cold light—a sharp kunai, over a foot long, its edge gleaming with a faint blue glow—slid silently toward Wu Ba’s ribs.

This was a ninja assassination technique.

To achieve such skill, the ninja was clearly a master among his kind.

“Get off!” Wu Ba grunted, his entire body swelling with muscle.

He made no attempt to dodge; his lower abdomen retracted, his elbow bent like a battering ram.

Wu Family’s Eight Extreme Shattering Force—Close-Range Impact!

Boom!

Violent gangqi and raw power exploded.

Flesh and blood sprayed; the ninja was literally split into two halves.

Yet the hidden attackers were not limited to just one.

As the first ninja lunged out, another shadow had already leapt from his back, soaring upward like an inverted ghost bat, descending without warning.

Mid-air, he spun rapidly, arms flailing.

“Whirrr—!”

A dense hail of poison needles, fine as cow hairs and glowing with a blue sheen, rained down like a storm.

The attack covered an enormous area, engulfing Wu Ba below, Wang Daoxuan, and even Lu San, who stood slightly behind.

Ninja technique: Rain of a Thousand Needles!

Their coordination was seamless.

Yet he had clearly underestimated their abilities.

Lu San stepped sideways, flicked his cloak, channeled his qi, and spun it skillfully into a spinning umbrella.

All needles aimed at the two were deflected.

As for Wu Ba, he suddenly dropped low, his muscles swelling once more; a layer of gangqi swirled around him, making him resemble an iron statue in a temple, his skin even shimmering with a metallic luster.

Hua Guang Martial Art: Secret Strike.

Ding ding ding!

A rapid series of sharp clangs; all poison needles were deflected.

The airborne ninja’s eyes widened in terror—he had never seen such a technique.

He twisted violently, flung his hand; a kunai attached to a steel wire whistled out, embedding itself in a tree across the way, pulling him through the air to change direction and escape.

But Wu Ba’s attack had only just begun.

His left fist drove forward in the Eight Extreme Supporting Hammer stance, fierce as lifting fire to the heavens.

Another dull boom—the ninja was shattered into pieces.

Wu Ba retracted his fist and chuckled, “Trash~”

Behind them, Lu San remained expressionless, his gaze sweeping through the tall grass, frowning: “There’s still one left—he’s escaped. His dunshu hides his scent in the rain.”

Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly. “Pity—we didn’t capture a prisoner.”

He turned toward the cave entrance in the grass. “Let’s move quickly. These Japanese are likely the same group infiltrating the city to cause chaos—this matter is probably not simple.”

“Let’s go!”

Gazing into the dark opening, Lu San stepped in without hesitation; the white fox rushed ahead, sniffing the path, followed closely by Wang Daoxuan and Wu Ba.

The tunnel was narrow and deep; a stench of damp earth and rusted iron filled the air.

The air was stifling and humid; every few steps, they had to steady their footing on slick, mossy mud.

Rainwater seeped in through the entrance, pooling into cold puddles in low spots.

After advancing over ten zhang, the faint glow of a firestick revealed an open space ahead.

Before them stretched a brick-and-stone corridor wide enough for two to walk side by side, its floor paved with neatly laid stone slabs, walls built of massive stone blocks, and an arched ceiling cracked in places but still solid.

Wang Daoxuan frowned, tracing a faint inscription on one stone block: “Supervised Construction, Daxing Third Year.” “This is the underground military tunnel of Jin’s Central Capital! The Jin History mentions it—the Jin emperor imitated Bianliang’s hidden troop tunnels, built with stone blocks and glutinous rice mortar—but no one ever found it… That old ghost in the capital truly isn’t simple—he found this too.”

But after advancing a few dozen steps, a large collapse blocked the way.

Fallen timber and fresh earth sealed the path; scattered among the rubble were several broken kunai.

“New collapse,” Lu San crouched, pinching a clump of soil—wet mud mixed with dry sand—and sniffed it. “Smells of gunpowder. Likely the old ghost’s escape route.”

Squeak-squeak—

The white fox, Chuqi, suddenly lifted its head, its nose flaring like a fan, then darted into a side passage half-buried by rubble.

The three immediately followed.

The tunnel branched everywhere, but several sections had collapsed.

After winding through twists and turns, squeezing through narrow gaps like dog holes, they finally found a hidden stone chamber.

On a dusty, cobwebbed weapons rack, rusted iron spears lay haphazardly.

Clay jars had shattered; pickled vegetables had long since turned to black sludge.