Chapter 82

The black wolf was slender and short, yet moved with extraordinary agility; its jet-black fur had an odd quality, seemingly absorbing the wind’s whistle as it leapt, rendering its movements utterly silent and nearly impossible to anticipate. It had climbed onto the rafters unnoticed and waited until this moment to pounce.

Wolves are cunning; its first target was the cyclical traveler dressed as a swordsman, who had revealed his fear.

The cyclical traveler frantically scattered a handful of sparks. These sparks, whatever spell they were, exploded upon release into a string of orange fireballs that, as if endowed with eyes, automatically clung to the enemy in midair. The fireballs moved with blinding speed, attaching themselves to the wolf’s pelt before it could reach him—and in an instant, the black wolf became a blazing sphere of crimson and orange.

On the glossy pelt of the black wolf, demonic energy surged, as if trying to smother the flames.

But the flames the cyclical traveler had scattered held some strange property; rather than being extinguished by the demonic energy, they flared up even more fiercely, as if fed by oil.

Watching the wolf, even as its body burned, still clung to its ferocity, ignoring the searing agony of its flesh and fur, it lunged straight at the cyclical traveler. The mere ten-foot distance vanished in an instant—a line of fire streaked toward the traveler’s chest—but he merely smiled coldly, raised his longsword, and flicked a spark of flame straight ahead.

Qian Chen recognized that this secondary flame carried the cyclical traveler’s magic power; a single touch would trigger the full force of the fire already burning the wolf, and it also concealed a trace of sacrificial power capable of converting the burning wolf’s blood and vital energy into nourishment for the swordsman cyclical traveler.

There were traces of shamanic arts in it.

Judging from the foundation of this magical power, the cyclical traveler was neither a sword immortal nor a swordsman—his roots were entirely shamanic. Relying on strange shamanic arts that refined the body, he fearlessly closed in for melee, while at range he wielded countless curses and yan sheng spells—a classic spellcaster. Whoever believed he was truly a swordsman would surely be ambushed.

The origin of those sparks was now clear.

They were undoubtedly shamanic fire. Shamanic arts often possess sacrificial power; by offering the blood essence of a living being, the flame transforms into one that specifically opposes that creature. The cyclical traveler merely needed to sacrifice the wolf demon’s flesh and blood to scatter shamanic sparks, turning the fire into a flame that burned the wolf’s blood and demonic energy.

But the flesh used as the ritual offering was not from this black wolf—it came from another, far weaker wolf demon. Otherwise, under the full force of the shamanic fire, igniting all its blood essence and demonic energy, the wolf would have been reduced to ashes in an instant, leaving no chance for a desperate last stand.

Just as the wolf demon was about to touch the tip of the flame, its body convulsed violently—it tore free. From within the burning shadow, a streak of bloodlight shot out, making an impossible midair turn, dodging the sword’s path and completely evading the cyclical traveler’s certain strike.

The bloodlight burned like a phantom, moving so fast no one could react—it bit down on the cyclical traveler’s throat.

Only then did they see: the bloodlight was a skinless blood wolf—or rather… a wolf ghost! Though it had shed its skin, it could not fully escape the shamanic fire clinging like a parasite. But the wolf demon had employed a desperate technique akin to a cultivator’s Heavenly Demon Body Sacrifice, burning its own flesh and offering its soul to become a wolf ghost, thereby breaking free from its physical form and transforming into bloodlight.

The Kunlun Daoist Zhiquiu’s face turned pale. “Blood Demon Escape Technique!”

If the wolf demon possessed such a desperate technique, then the previously dismissed pack of wolves now appeared extremely troublesome!

Even the usually calm white-robed scholar showed a hint of gravity—and Qian Chen, of course, feigned an equally terrified expression.

“Brother Zhou!” Zhiquiu cried, both shocked and furious. He unfurled a talisman painted in cinnabar.

“Demons and ghosts, retreat! Exorcise the Wicked, Subdue the Demons Decree!”

A beam of golden light struck—the blood wolf ghost instantly shattered, the vengeful demonic spirit offering no resistance whatsoever.

Qian Chen’s expression shifted subtly—not feigned this time, but a genuine reaction beneath his mask.

For within that golden light, he sensed the purest divine power… the aura of Xuantian Emperor, one of the supreme orthodox deities of the Jade Emperor’s Heavenly Court.

This Xuantian Emperor, also known in the Central Lands as the Northern True Martial Emperor Who Pacifies Demons, was the most vehemently opposed to evil, famed as the savior who would redeem all beings at the final calamity, shatter all demonic arts and heretical sects, and guide all who pledged allegiance to him away from heresy and demonic paths.

This answered one of Qian Chen’s lingering questions: who was behind the demon who, five thousand years ago, entered the abyss, beheld the Blood Sea, and unlocked the great secrets of demonic cultivation to become a Blood Demon? The answer was obvious. But he never believed the orthodox cultivators of this world could destroy a Blood Demon without backing—and now he saw it clearly.

Given the True Martial Emperor’s nature, he would never ignore the invasion of Jiuyou or the Blood Sea’s atrocities.

“This man calls himself a Kunlun Daoist… made me think the Grand Lord of Yu Xu Palace had intervened!” Qian Chen thought bitterly: “You’re a True Martial disciple—why call yourself Kunlun Sect? Why not Xuantian Palace or Wudang Sect? You made me think you were a Sanqing disciple, and I worried my identity would be exposed when facing Miaokong, drawing the attention of the Taishang Dao…”

The swordsman cyclical traveler lay dead on the spot… yet Zhiquiu was filled with guilt.

“My spell can only deal with demons and ghostly hordes. These wolf demons have physical bodies; unless they abandon their forms in desperation, I can’t touch them. All of you, draw closer—I’ll inscribe golden protective charms on you… to guard against their blood escape and last-ditch attacks.”

“No need!” The white-robed scholar slapped his waist pouch. “Yan has his own sword art to protect me!”

“No need…” Qian Chen said coldly. “I have my own response.”

Fortunately, Qian Chen remembered his cold persona and restrained his urge to explain, merely glancing coldly at the cyclical traveler’s corpse: “Besides, he may not even be dead! You’d better mind yourself!”

“This black wolf was merely a guardian—not the alpha.”

“Alpha?” Zhiquiu paused, startled.

But he had no time to ponder further—the wolves surrounding the hall, seeing their ambush fail, surged forward like a tidal wave. These wolf demons were not mindless beasts; they operated in coordinated groups, with tight teamwork and even tactical discipline. Often several would strike together, while others held back, creating space for the attackers. They replenished losses instantly and launched surprise attacks at unpredictable moments. The mastery of offensive rhythm and the overwhelming pressure were indescribable.

Zhiquiu, the Yan scholar, and Qian Chen had already formed a tight circle.

Zhiquiu even dragged the cyclical traveler’s corpse over, fearing the wolves might tear it apart in retaliation.

Qian Chen raised his long banner; seven streams of malevolent energy surged upward like giant serpents. Where they passed, the wolf pack’s formation collapsed. The malevolent energy obscured their vision and carried the seven emotions’ confusion, causing many wolf demons to go berserk, turning on their own companions. Qian Chen’s Seven Malevolent Banners inflicted massive damage and effectively disrupted the wolves’ offensive rhythm.

Yet the wolf pack adapted: from afar came a piercing howl. The formation shifted—from dense charges to scattered, loosely grouped lines, launching a coordinated penetration assault with startling precision.

Qian Chen couldn’t help but marvel: no wonder humans in this world had no chance against wolf packs—their tactics had reached the level of Earth’s WWII era. They’d even employed the classic infantry “three-three squad” tactic.

Wolves normally operated in small groups of three to five; this three-three coordination came naturally to them.

With the lines dispersed, Qian Chen’s malevolent energy could no longer inflict mass casualties. From the Yan scholar’s pouch, a swordlight finally emerged—a flying sword pellet. Its spiritual radiance flowed, and the sword pellet swept out a dazzling expanse of silver light, piercing a hole through the skull of a wolf demon that had breached Qian Chen’s Seven Malevolent Banners.

Moreover, after the battle lines were dispersed, Qian Chen’s deadly aura could no longer inflict large-scale casualties... From the soft pouch of the Yan scholar, a blade-light finally emerged—it was a flying sword pellet. Spiritual light swirled, and the sword pellet unleashed a vast, brilliant silver radiance, piercing a blood hole through the skull of a demon wolf that had breached Qian Chen’s Seven Deadly Banner.

The Yan scholar turned to Zhiquiu. “The wolves coming this way are my concern. You don’t need to act yet—go assist that other cultivator and block the rest of the pack.”

Zhiquiu nodded quickly. “Understood!”

He silently chanted a true incantation. Dozens of paper men and paper horses leapt from the wooden box on his back, inscribed with vermilion talismans, holding tiny talismanic weapons, crying “Ya ya!” as they charged at the wolf demons. He then scattered a handful of talisman beans—each one transformed into a miniature human upon hitting the ground, shielding the talisman soldiers as they advanced.

These paper men and paper horses, the “Sowing Beans to Create Soldiers” technique, were Daoist troops, just like Qian Chen’s Yellow Turban Warriors.

But Qian Chen’s Yellow Turban Warriors could only handle heavy labor—they lacked spiritual awareness, making them poor at adapting in combat. They might hold their own against mortal armies, but against cultivators or demonic hordes, they were useless.

Only when, like Zhiquiu, one uses talismanic script as the body of the troops and summons the celestial soldiers’ spiritual awareness from Xuantian Palace can the paper men and horses become true Daoist troops.

Many celestial soldiers under the Heavenly Emperor’s command were not particularly powerful—they were selected from the finest mortal soldiers and officers who had become devout followers, elevated to celestial ranks. Many cultivators, stripped of their high magic power, were helpless; yet these soldiers, even if they could only wield a toothpick, could stab it into an enemy’s eyeball—they were born warriors.

Deities like the True Martial Emperor, tasked with subduing demons across countless worlds and the endless hordes of Jiuyou and the Blood Sea, possessed countless such celestial soldiers. Daoists like Zhiquiu, or any other Daoist seeking to subdue demons, need only inscribe a talisman to summon the celestial soldiers of Xuantian Palace—to sow beans into soldiers, cut paper into generals—unleashing a killing power dozens of times greater than their own.

The tiny talismanic figures roared, “Ya ya ya!”—cute and soft, yet as they leapt, their toy-like paper spears, no thicker than toothpicks, pierced straight through the chest of a wolf demon, impaling its body—hundreds of times larger than their own—and pinning it to the ground.

Dozens of paper figures, in groups of three or five, struck once—and often killed a wolf demon outright.

The thousands of bean-people possessed only slightly greater strength than ordinary humans, yet they fiercely shielded the paper figures, making it impossible for the wolf demons to distinguish where the hidden paper soldiers lay.

Amidst the malevolent energy, dozens of paper men and horses, supported by thousands of bean-people, inflicted heavy casualties on the wolf pack.

Amidst the sinister qi, dozens of paper men and paper horses, coordinated with thousands of bean soldiers, slaughtered the wolf pack with heavy casualties.