Volume One: The King's Command Chapter Forty-Six: Of Strange Powers and Uncanny Forces

Taoist priests descending the mountain always travel on foot, and Guo Shuda was no exception. When he left Shibali Fort with his bundle, he did not ride a horse.

He had already agreed with the old Taoist Bai Yiting to meet on the Heavenly King Road. Bai Yiting was, in fact, among the invited candidates for the selection of the new sect leader. However, he was currently occupied with handling the passage of the ghostly soldiers and could not leave for the time being.

Such incidents, where ghostly soldiers cross over, often occur in places thick with yin energy—cemeteries, desolate mountains, and other places rarely touched by humans. For such an event to erupt tonight in a densely populated market area, and for it to be led by a ghost general rampaging across the altar, it was clear there was a hidden hand orchestrating matters from behind the scenes, resulting in the night's great battle.

Thousands perished in a single night, and the vengeful souls of the dead lingered, refusing to disperse. Bai Yiting displayed his formidable powers, chanting spirit-calling incantations upon the altar. The rain-invoking ritual became a ceremony to deliver the dead.

Moreover, the Azure Dragon assisted on the riverbank, doing everything possible to protect the souls from being seized by the ghostly army. The ghost general, wounded in the night, dared not cross the river once the sun rose, and only scattered remnants probed the outskirts.

The once-thriving Shibali Fort fell silent. Banners were lowered everywhere, some townsfolk packed their belongings and left, while most shut themselves away, hoping for good news from the old Taoist.

This deadlock lasted three days and nights. Fortunately, with the Azure Dragon’s help, Bai Yiting managed to send off all the souls and wounded the ghost general again, shattering his resolve so he never appeared again.

Another reason Bai Yiting sent Guo Shuda and his group ahead was that he found Feng Zhangzai particularly irksome. The old Taoist was a carefree sort and, seeing Feng Zhangzai’s arrogance, deliberately made him stay behind to help.

“I seem to be one of the judges invited by the Heavenly King Road as well. I’ve been watching your performance closely, you know! Hmph!”

That single sentence trapped Feng Zhangzai for half a month. Only when he reckoned his disciple had already reached the sect did Bai Yiting allow him to leave, not forgetting to toss off a few words of praise that so infuriated Feng Zhangzai, he chopped a willow tree in half with a single stroke.

As Bai Yiting had predicted, Guo Shuda’s group did not travel quickly. In fact, before they even neared the Heavenly King Road, they were stopped at the foot of Mount Wulao.

A dozen or so stiffly moving puppets lined up before them. Guo Shuda sent out his spirit servants, and Li Jue summoned golden light to shield them.

“Who are you people? State your names!” Guo Shuda called out repeatedly, but no one answered. The puppets twisted their bodies and attacked, engaging the four companions in battle.

Don’t be fooled by the tattered appearance of these puppets—their attacks were powerful and forceful. Liu Xiaoyi raised his sword to block two of them, then struck one’s chest with his palm. However, the puppet felt no pain and did not retreat, catching Liu Xiaoyi’s swordplay off guard.

Fortunately, three streaks of golden light from behind struck the puppets in succession, allowing him to regain his composure and rejoin the fray.

Fighting puppets controlled by others was vastly different from facing real people—they felt no pain and could withstand attacks to any vital area.

The foot of Mount Wulao was filled with willow trees. Without anyone noticing, the branches grew wild, enclosing the four in a tight circle. No matter how many puppets were destroyed, new ones always filled the gaps.

After half an hour of struggle, the number of puppets did not decrease. Broken parts littered the ground, and from time to time, branches dragged off the debris. Li Jue’s sharp eyes noticed something amiss.

“My friends, hold them off for a while! If we don’t break this willow formation, we’ll be worn down and die here!”

With that, Li Jue pulled a small bronze mirror from his robe, sat cross-legged on the ground, and began reciting incantations, holding the mirror high. Sensing a formidable spell about to be cast, their adversary made the surrounding willows uproot themselves and shrink the encirclement with writhing roots.

Whenever the flailing branches neared their attack range, they were shredded by a storm of yellow talisman papers. Meng Qiaoqiao’s hundred-treasure pouch was filled with these square talismans, which, under her nimble hands, whirled through the air like razors.

Li Jue’s chanting grew faster until the bronze mirror flew from his hands. Pointing at it, he shouted, “Go!”

The little mirror spun in the air, unleashing dazzling sunlight that scorched the branches and puppets with a sizzle. Soon, their path was cleared, and the toppled willows lay motionless by the roadside.

“Now, my friend, isn’t it time you showed yourself?” Li Jue said grimly.

From a bend in the mountain path ahead emerged two figures, one old and one young. The elder was hunched, his eyes milky white and sightless. The younger wore a red bellyband, walked with a limp, leaving uneven footprints, and clutched a clay figurine.

Li Jue searched his memory but could not place their identities. The Daoist sect had countless branches, usually distinguished by their spells. These two carried a chill; they were unlikely to be from the orthodox path.

The child patted the clay figurine and laughed. “The Li family wields the Golden Light Spell, the Guo family commands the spirit messengers, the Bai family can conjure soldiers from beans. But which school does this fellow come from?” he asked, glancing at Liu Xiaoyi.

He couldn’t determine Liu Xiaoyi’s affiliation, as the latter had only used pure swordsmanship, not any spell.

The blind old man urged impatiently, “Finish off this batch. It’s about time. The others are probably waiting already.”

It seemed their ambush was not only for these four, but others passing before had fallen as well.

Guo Shuda immediately understood: someone was targeting the Heavenly King Road, seeking to take advantage of the chaos to seize a share of power. “You’re quite bold! But before you deal with me, you’ll have to see if my Glazed Lamp agrees!”

So saying, he produced a crystal-clear glass lamp. Taking a deep breath, he spat fire to light it. In the flickering glow, a faceless general in silver armor and robes strode forth, spear leveled for the attack.

The limping child threw the clay figurine, which transformed into a fierce tiger in mid-air, leaping upon the faceless general. With steel jaws clamped on the silver spear, both combatants’ eyes widened as they poured all their power into the struggle.

The other three were not idle. Li Jue’s family’s Golden Light Spell, which drew on the mind’s spiritual focus to conjure golden light, was the bane of evil spirits. The puppets they had encountered earlier all stemmed from the blind old man. Now, more than twenty puppets crawled from the earth, surrounding the three.

The golden light had little effect on these puppets. Li Jue’s expression grew grave—today, they had met true experts. He summoned the small bronze mirror again, hoping to destroy the puppets with sunlight.

The blind old man, having suffered before, quickly bent to remove a shoe and flung it at the mirror. The magical artifact, blocked by the shoe, was pinned in midair and rendered useless.

Each move dazzled Liu Xiaoyi. He realized that the world held countless strange and marvelous techniques—one could command spirits and puppets to fight, or dispatch generals to kill with a flick of the hand!