Chapter 91: Ferocious Flesh Miler

What kind of demonic art is this?

Li Yan’s eyes widened in shock, unable to help but ask.

Indeed, the opponent isn’t merely overweight.

The flying knives he threw carried hidden force—though not enough to shatter mountains or split rocks, they could easily pierce through flesh and bone.

The opponent’s fat quivered, likely absorbing the knives’ force.

A master of neutralizing force could do this easily, but not like this!

This technique was utterly unheard of.

“It’s a technique passed down by the Fangxian Sect…”

Luo Mingzi’s eyes brimmed with caution as he said grimly, “He wields the Miler Dafanyin—definitely one of the Sixty-Four Incense Masters. Ordinary spells won’t work; attack his lower body!”

He was experienced and instantly spotted the Mountain Master’s weakness.

Among the enforcers were plenty of spellcraft masters, who could set up altars to duel, summon spirit troops to capture enemies—but all were injured below the mountain.

Those who came with us this time are all experts in close combat, using spellcraft only as support.

Their spells can be shattered by the Miler Dafanyin, and his body is bizarre—attacking his upper body is useless; if you leave an opening, you’re dead.

The only chance is to attack his lower body.

Without hesitation, Luo Mingzi and the remaining Daoists drew their swords and leapt forward.

The rocks before the Mountain Master had all been blasted away, yet he paid no mind, standing firm and sneering at the group.

The two Daoists’ attacks arrived in an instant.

One leapt high, swirling his sword to form a dazzling bloom of light, stabbing straight for the Mountain Master’s eyes—blade flashes blinded the viewer.

This move was called Immortal Points the Way, but with a subtle variation: it appeared deceptive, yet combined true and false seamlessly, covering the eyes, throat, and other vital points, adapting to the enemy’s reactions.

As the saying goes: “Flowers grow so thick they dazzle the eyes—of the Immortal’s Point, only one path is real!”

Yet his fierce swordplay was merely a decoy.

As the beggar’s eyes were drowned in the blade’s glitter, Luo Mingzi followed close behind, his body perfectly shielded by the Daoist ahead.

This was their combined technique, derived from Qimen Dunjia.

Even if the enemy had exceptional vision, he’d still develop a blind spot—Luo Mingzi used his ally as cover to vanish from sight.

This entire sword sequence was called the Dunjia Sword Array.

Two could use it; three made it stronger; if enough people joined, they could even use talismans to gather surrounding gang and sha qi and form a “force” and “pattern.”

Using this clever dodge, Luo Mingzi lowered his stance, slipped soundlessly around the beggar’s side, and reversed his sword to slash at the opponent’s Achilles tendon.

The beggar’s Mountain Master was massive, especially his belly, which completely blocked the view—even if he looked down, he couldn’t see Luo Mingzi.

Yet his upper body was astonishingly agile.

Facing the Immortal’s Point aimed at his upper body, he twisted his head and shifted his body, grabbing the sword outright with his huge left hand, heedless of the razor edge.

Simultaneously, his right hand swung the spiked club, sweeping backward with a terrifying whistle, smashing toward Luo Mingzi.

Luo Mingzi’s face changed instantly.

In combat, the human instinct is to dodge injury—but that very instinct leads to greater danger; many techniques are designed this way: attack left, strike right, forcing the opponent to dodge and expose an opening.

But he hadn’t expected the opponent to trade damage outright.

His sword could sever the man’s Achilles tendon—but that whistling spiked club could crush his skull into pulp.

Luo Mingzi had no choice but to push off his feet, shift direction mid-air, and perform a kite-flip, barely dodging the spiked club.

But the Daoist attacking the upper body wasn’t so lucky.

His sword was seized by the beggar; instinctively, he pulled back, hoping to use the blade’s sharpness to slice off the man’s palm.

But the beggar’s grip carried hidden force, far beyond normal strength—he crushed the blade’s edge into deformation.

The Daoist above felt as if his sword had plunged into stone; no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t withdraw it an inch.

Then came a tremendous pulling force.

If he kept holding the sword, the giant would fling him straight into the wall.

His face paled; he hastily let go of the blade.

But it was too late.

The beggar’s yank had already thrown him off balance; after forcing back Luo Mingzi, the spiked club swung upward again, smashing toward him.

But at that moment, the beggar froze, abandoning his attack, twisting his head to dodge the flying knife aimed at his eyes.

It was Li Yan, seizing the opportunity, throwing a flying knife to divert the attack—attack Wei to save Zhao.

This gave the Daoist his chance—he rolled sideways mid-air, unleashed hidden force, and kicked the beggar’s belly hard, using the recoil to retreat swiftly.

Looking at the beggar, struck by that heavy kick, he merely stepped back once, his belly fat rippling like water, instantly dissipating the force.

After absorbing that hidden-force kick, he acted as if nothing had happened.

Due to the prior exchange, the formation now had Luo Mingzi in the rear, Li Yan and the Daoist in front—forming a pincer.

Yet the beggar’s Mountain Master remained calm, raised his bloody left hand, slapped his belly with a loud smack—the fat quivered, and Li Yan’s earlier flying knives were shaken loose.

The wound was packed with greasy yellow fat, no longer bleeding.

Seeing this, Luo Mingzi’s gaze turned grim. “Watch out—he’s already entered Neutralizing Force!”

No wonder…

Li Yan suddenly understood.

This guy was already a Neutralizing Force master, and with his bizarre fat, he was like a living fortress—excellent in both offense and defense.

Had he not been slow, just this one exchange might have cost someone their life.

After repelling the three, the beggar’s Mountain Master didn’t pursue—he stood still, swinging his spiked club lazily, glancing sideways at them as if waiting for them to attack.

At that moment, Li Yan’s vision blurred—he saw the illusion again:

The old man he’d seen before now wore utter despair; the rag covering his face had grown larger, as if about to swallow his entire head.

The illusion vanished instantly, but Li Yan’s face darkened. “Watch out—he’s stalling. He’s almost succeeded in retrieving the treasure!”

Hearing this, Luo Mingzi charged forward again.

But this time, his target wasn’t the Mountain Master—he aimed to flip the cloth sack buried beneath the man’s feet.

“Get lost!”

The beggar’s Mountain Master lost his smile; his fat twisted grotesquely, his tiny eyes blazing with malice. He swung his spiked club left and right, forcing Luo Mingzi back.

All three realized Li Yan’s judgment was correct.

This guy was purely stalling—if he retrieved the treasure, he’d have no more restraint and would slaughter them without mercy.

The Daoist beside Li Yan picked up a fallen companion’s sword and charged again, coordinating with Luo Mingzi.

Li Yan also harassed intermittently, buying time for Luo Mingzi.

But the beggar’s Mountain Master had gone berserk—his fat trembled violently, the spiked club whirled like a storm, abandoning all defense, driving them back again and again…

…………

In another cavern, the fighting had ceased.

Blood pooled on the ground; over a dozen black-clad men lay dead—short, with broad hand bones like plowshares, all disciples of the old thief-master.

Gu Chenzi and the others weren’t faring well either.

Their faces were covered in a layer of red moss, seated on the ground, powerless, glaring fiercely at the opposite side.

Against the wall of the opposite cavern, a piece of Shan Taishui protruded from the ground—but it was pierced by red rods, bound with red cords and tied with copper coins.

Clearly, it was some kind of treasure-binding technique.

Mo Laowai, the treasure-seeker from the Xunyou lineage, lay on the ground, his face also covered in the same red moss—but he looked serene.

He shook his head and sighed, “Why must you press so hard?”

“I don’t wish to offend the Profound Heaven Sect, but years of tomb-raiding have accumulated too much yin poison. Without this treasure, I won’t live past this year.”

“Don’t worry—this ‘Earth Blood Robe’ is made from heavenly and earthly treasures; it won’t kill you. Wait half a stick of incense, and it will vanish on its own.”

Gu Chenzi and the others were furious. This old devil was truly treacherous—he used his disciples’ lives as shields and secretly poisoned them with a colorless, odorless heavenly treasure toxin. By the time they realized it, all were already infected.

The eldest, Luo Fengzi, spoke grimly, “You’re courting death. When our people break through the other side’s setup, do you think you can escape?”

“Hahahaha…”

Mo Laowai burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Do you think I’d cooperate with just any cat or dog, just because of my skills?”

“That beggar’s real name is Chu Shan—he’s one of the Sixty-Four Incense Masters of the Miler Sect!”

“Shanxiao?”

Luo Fengzi had heard the name before; his face changed. “You’re lying! Legend says Chu Shan was covered in black fur, hunched like a monkey—he’s been dead for years! This beggar is all fat—how could he be the same man?”

“It’s not your fault.”

Mo Laowai shook his head. “I nearly missed it too. Had he not used the Miler Dafanyin to shatter my spells, I wouldn’t have realized it was him.”

“At its height, the Miler Sect was blazing bright. The Sixty-Four Incense Masters, each corresponding to one of the Sixty-Four Hexagrams, spread across Shenzhou, gathering esoteric arts from Buddhist, Daoist, and Shamanic schools. Had there not been traitors within the court to incite them, how could they have gathered in Guanzhong to rebel—and been wiped out by you?”

!

Luo Fengzi narrowed his eyes. “You know about this?”

Mo Laowai sneered. “There’s no wall without cracks. How many people in Guanzhong died never knowing it was all a setup?”

Luo Fengzi sighed, closed his eyes, and fell silent.

Mo Laowai clicked his tongue, dropped the subject, and continued: “During the Qin and Han dynasties, the Fangxian Sect studied immortality, devising many strange methods.”

“One of them required eating dead flesh and rotting meat, gathering yin poison to grow a layer of fat, controllable by martial hidden force—called Rou Miler.”

“Chu Shan, for reasons unknown, cultivated this art, turning himself into something neither man nor ghost. Every first and fifteenth of the lunar month, his rotting poison erupts, his body covered in pus-filled sores, unbearable agony.”

“Otherwise, why would he abandon everything and hide in this graveyard?”

He has entered Hua Jing, and with this Flesh Miler sorcery, your companion is likely already dead.

Bullshit!

Gu Chenzi’s face flushed with rage as he cursed loudly.

Mo Laowai chuckled: “Worry about yourselves instead. Just because I won’t strike doesn’t mean Chu Shan will spare you.”

“But don’t worry too much—I anticipated your arrival. This ‘Earth Blood Robe’ was made for you.”

“When the time comes, I’ll need all of you to help me escape this graveyard!”

“Hahaha…”

Luo Fengzi suddenly opened his eyes and said coldly: “Human greed is boundless. With heavenly and earthly treasures before you, do you really think Chu Shan will let you go?”

Mo Laowai smirked: “Earlier, I might have worried—I even prepared a method to deal with Chu Shan. But now that we’re inside, I have no fear.”

“This Mountain Tai Sui is far larger than I imagined…”

…………

In another cavern, Li Yan’s gaze grew darker.

The mountain deity formed by the Mountain Tai Sui had cried for help once before, but now it was utterly silent—even the fleshy lumps on the ground no longer writhed.

This meant the treasure extraction was nearing success.

Meanwhile, Chu Shan’s power was immense, and with his strange, bloated flesh, he attacked relentlessly without defense. Though his body was riddled with countless wounds, he repeatedly drove them back.

On the other side, Luo Mingzi finally spotted another weakness in Chu Shan: his entire body was wounded, yet he emitted the stench of rotting meat, and even his blood had turned black-green.

His heart stirred. His right hand wielded his sword to harass, while his left hand swiftly formed talismans behind his back, changing rapidly.

He had used this technique before against Zheng Heibei.

This palm was the Daoist Palm Thunder.

Thunder arts were the strongest force in Daoism—diverse, embodying the interplay of yin and yang, suppressing all evil spirits, and wielding unmatched power.

Of course, the kind that summoned heavenly thunder required elaborate altar rituals, days of continuous rites, and perfect timing and terrain to succeed.

His Palm Thunder was merely an introductory technique, harnessing the clash of gang and sha energy to generate yin-yang transformation—its greatest strength was disrupting the opponent’s qi.

When Zheng Heibei was struck by his Palm Thunder, all his yin spirits dispersed.

This fatty flesh of the beggar chief was clearly a form of sorcery—if he could shatter it, he’d buy time for the others.

Fortunately, Chu Shan was a Jue Xing Shen Tong and had not sensed the change in Luo Mingzi’s hidden qi.

As he charged again, Luo Mingzi suddenly flung his hand, hurling his Seven-Star Treasure Sword straight toward the tattered cloth satchel on the ground.

“Bold!”

Chu Shan startled, rushing to block it with his wolf-tooth club.

CLANG!

The sword was deflected away.

But it was exactly what Luo Mingzi intended.

As Chu Shan blocked, his chest was exposed. Luo Mingzi seized the opening and lunged forward, slapping his palm against Chu Shan’s chest.

This palm strike carried not only Palm Thunder, but also hidden force.

As he predicted, Chu Shan’s fatty flesh no longer quivered—instead, a sharp crack echoed as he shattered the man’s sternum.

In pain, Chu Shan staggered back two steps, but his left hand struck out simultaneously.

“Now!”

Luo Mingzi roared—but was instantly slammed by Chu Shan’s furious blow, crashing into the wall with a thud, spitting blood and collapsing unconscious.

Li Yan and the Daoist from the Enforcement Hall attacked at the same moment.

Chu Shan knew the Enforcement Hall Daoist was the greater threat. Despite his agony, he swung his wolf-tooth club toward him.

Li Yan rolled sideways, landing to the right.

There lay the bent sword Chu Shan had crushed earlier. Li Yan snatched it up, stepped in the Muddy Step, and aimed straight for the wound the dagger had opened, driving the blade deep inside.

“Roar!”

The blade pierced deep into his organs. Chu Shan screamed in agony, swinging his wolf-tooth club downward and smashing Li Yan hard onto the ground.

Puff!

Li Yan spat blood, yet a cold smile curled on his lips as he kicked hard at the hilt buried in Chu Shan’s belly.

Instantly, a massive gash tore open across Chu Shan’s abdomen.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

The twisted sword was kicked free by Li Yan, dragging out a length of intestines.

The Enforcement Hall Daoist, eyes bloodshot from battle, saw both Luo Mingzi and Li Yan wounded—he wouldn’t miss this chance.

He rolled sideways, snatching up the bent sword.

Normally, the blade’s sharpness would sever the intestines, but he flicked his wrist, applying Taiji Silk-Winding Force, then retreated swiftly—dragging out a long trail of Chu Shan’s intestines with a wet, slurping sound.

Even so, Chu Shan did not die.

He went utterly berserk, knowing his life was ending. Grabbing his wolf-tooth club, he charged after the Daoist, determined to kill him before he died.

“Quickly!”

The Daoist was sharp—he roared, yanking Chu Shan’s intestines and sprinting out of the cavern.

First, to finish Chu Shan off completely.

Second, to buy Li Yan time.

In an instant, only the unconscious Luo Mingzi and Li Yan remained inside the cavern.

Li Yan no longer concealed himself—his wounds healed rapidly, then he reached for the cloth satchel on the ground.

But immediately, his expression changed.

A torrent of power surged into the satchel. The massive fissure on his Great Luo Body’s chest began to heal swiftly.

Moreover, this power seemed endless, flowing without ceasing.

The scars on his Great Luo Body vanished in an instant.

Spiritual Treasure Fortune!

This filthy, grimy cloth satchel was so extraordinary?

Huh~

Li Yan’s vision blurred—he saw another vision:

The old mountain deity reappeared, bowing with clasped hands, his gaze filled with terror and pleading…

(End of Chapter)