Chapter 40 Demon Flame
"Monks can be taught as fools, but monsters as ghosts and sprites must become calamities?"
Wang Guan frowned, chewing on this half verse of poetry as he suddenly lifted his head and straightened his back. His Taoist robe moved on its own without any wind, and the neatly groomed facial hair on his face twisted wildly as if it had a life of its own.
From his skeletal thin body, a vast and dark demonic power like ink dissipated.
This power, like a veil of mist, spread and enveloped the entire Daxiong Bao Hall. It seemed ethereal yet substantial, making it difficult to breathe and nearly causing one to faint.
The Mountain Demon had many identities: monk, Taoist, man, demon.
As a monk, he was the benevolent and kindly abbot of Solitary Cold Temple.
As a Taoist, he was a necromancer who seduced the wealthy with the promise of eternal life.
As a mortal, he was the kind-hearted and affable rich merchant from South Zhili, Wang Guan.
Only the last identity, the demon, did the Mountain Demon not need to play. He was, in truth, a ferocious and vicious monster that devoured raw meat and blood and led beasts to eat humans.
"Hahahahahaha."
Wang Guan swung the sleeves of his Taoist robe, laughed wildly, and said, "You say, I am a monster?"
He lightly stepped into the air; beneath him, the stone floor of Daxiong Bao Hall suddenly collapsed, leaving a massive footprint.
"You say, I am a demon?"
With another step, the lower-level demons on either side of Daxiong Bao Hall, whose cultivations were insufficient, were directly bent over by the force of his step from afar, each one lying prostrate on the pedestal of the Buddha statues, their faces in terror, bodies trembling wildly as blood gushed from their orifices as if it cost nothing.
"You say, I am a disaster?"
On his third step, his long, pale facial hair moved on its own. His gaunt palm swept out, casting a dark and inky demonic force.
Initially, this force wound like a crescent moon, slender like a willow leaf, but as it moved further away it began to dissipate and deform, eventually condensing into a row of armored and fearsome skeleton soldiers.
"Kill!"
The skeleton soldiers, formed from the demonic wind, roared fiercely as a devouring blue demon flame surged about them, charging wildly toward the task force.
Lesser demons and monsters in their path, unable to evade in time, merely needed to be grazed by the skeleton soldiers' weapons for their bodies to rapidly rot and decay,
within just a few breaths' time, they disintegrated into a puddle of yellow-green pus right where they stood, their desperate cries for help stuck in their throats, unuttered.
As the monsters fled, and the spirits retreated, those guests who still had the strength left to move beneath the oppressive force withdrew from Daxiong Bao Hall like the ebbing tide.
No creature wanted to join this struggle. They dared not, wished not, couldn't.
Their greatest fear was the Mountain Demon's reckoning after the struggle ended. They thought of casting a few long-range attacks from outside the hall to lend a hand,
shouting a few "Long live Daoist Wang Guan" to blend in with the crowd, but they would never dare to venture into the hall—those attending the banquet considered themselves shameless, adept at self-preservation,
after all, in this day and age, those monsters who were not so smart, relying on their power to wreak havoc, had long been eradicated by the Taoist Door, the Buddha Sect, or by cultivators from the government.
Even those who had retreated to the courtyard could still feel Wang Guan's immense demonic power within Daxiong Bao Hall. While terrified, they also felt puzzled and couldn't help wondering if the Hundred Demon Pill was truly that effective, allowing the Mountain Demon to improve his cultivation so much in just one year.
Inside the hall, facing the onslaught of skeleton soldiers, Wanli Fengdao gave a cold snort and drew his sword named "Dragon Slayer" from his waist.
Shing—
From a distance, the sword appeared like a sliver of moonlight shining through a gap in the clouds—intensely cold, dazzlingly bright, and flashing like lightning. Under the reflection of the sword light, even Wanli Fengdao's face, burdened by at least an extra decade of age, seemed serene and grand.
An elder's blade, three feet from its sheath, once entered Wu Lake to slay a dragon's offspring.
Wanli Fengdao silently recited his unknown past, drawing his sword and charging into the Skeleton War Array.
Twist, cleave, stab, spin, slash, shave,
The sword light crisscrossed, shining like stars. He waded through blades and halberds, axes and hooks, breaking through the formation in the din of metal clashing, then silently sheathed his sword.
Behind him, skeleton soldiers still raising their weapons stood frozen for a moment before collapsing with a delayed realization.
"Playing with swords?"
Wang Guan sneered coldly and, suspended in midair, raised both arms while standing on one foot like a golden rooster standing on one leg, then casually stamped down with his foot.
Inside the hall, the ink-like demonic qi, flimsy as gossamer, rolled and churned, gathering together like sweeping dark clouds that blocked out the sun, pressing down upon the people below.
Wanli Fengdao's face changed dramatically, his hand resting weakly on the scabbard.
Everyone's scalp tingled uncontrollably, their body hair standing on end; the air seemed to solidify, heavy, turning the usually simple act of breathing into an effort that required one to muster all their strength to move their chest.
"Disperse!"
Xing Hechou roared as a golden light flashed around him, revealing an ancient suit of iron armor on his burly frame.
The armor, comprised of over fifteen hundred scale-like pieces and more than six hundred long lamellar strips, featured highly polished metal disc protectors on both the front and back that shone like mirrors, complete with a helmet, neck guard, ear guards, tiger-head shoulder armor, dragon-head arm coverings, kneepads, leg bindings, and hanging thigh protectors.
[Name: Bright Plate]
[Type: Armor]
[Quality: Rare]
[Defensive Power: Medium]
[Special Effect 1: Unyielding (Passively increases the wearer's physical limit by 20%)]
[Special Effect 2: Toughness (Passively increases the wearer's resilience, reducing the duration and intensity of effects such as dizziness, slowdown, fear, and more that the wearer experiences)]
[Note: Behold the light of day, the world is brightly illuminated.]
Xing Hechou, clad in golden iron armor, suddenly bent his knees; the wolf-head kneecaps collided with the iron-lamellar skirts, producing a harsh, grinding sound. Beneath his feet, the hard ground cracked like a spider-web from the force of his weight.
The next instant, he leapt high into the air, his iron fists like cannonballs, hurtling towards the demonic qi clouds.
As the dark clouds press in, threatening to crush the city, the golden-armored warrior shines bright like scales in the sun!
For a long time, the mission team had been preparing for this day. Almost the instant Xing Hechou bellowed "Disperse," the others scattered in perfect sync.
Wanli Fengdao, who was most skilled in lightness techniques, darted back and forth between the hall's columns, seizing the moment Wang Guan was distracted by Xing Hechou to suddenly increase his speed. With a few swift movements like a hare hopping, he whisked past the cauldrons in front of Daxiong Bao Hall, grabbing the waist of the woman known as "Hong Niang", and alighted effortlessly on the floor.
"Stay put, don't move."
Wanli Fengdao rapidly uttered those words, quickly turned his head, and saw Xing Hechou, armored in golden plate, had charged into the black clouds, his iron fist-clad hands striking directly at the Mountain Demon's feet.
Clang—
The sound of metal striking metal echoed through Daxiong Bao Hall, as the visible shockwaves from the impact burst the dark clouds open, scattering in every direction.
Wang Guan, floating in midair, was sent staggering backwards, taking several steps to regain his balance.
Xing Hechou, on the other hand, hit the ground hard. Beneath his iron-hand guards, his palms were torn open at the base, blood seeping out profusely, his clenched fists still trembling uncontrollably.
Feeling a sweet taste in his throat, he gritted his teeth and swallowed the blood in his mouth, struggled to stand, and silently stared at Wang Guan, his clear eyes brimming with a surging fighting spirit as if they were ablaze.
"Hmph."
Wang Guan scoffed, sweeping his Taoist robe with one hand and placing his hands behind his back. As the edges of his robes fluttered violently, the demonic qi once again gathered around him, forming a pitch-black cloud.
"Fire borrows the power of the wind, the wind enhances the fierceness of the fire."
The Taoist, with no hint of emotion in his eyes, looked down coldly at the ants below, speaking calmly.
Behind him, the demonic qi clouds lit up as if a pool of oil had been struck by a match; first, a spark flickered, then a conflagration spread like wildfire!
The entire expanse of clouds blazed fiercely, the flames neither warm nor orange, but eerily blue and cold, devoid of any warmth.
The twisting, rising blue flames, like maggots gnawing at bones, latched onto the golden rooftop of Daxiong Bao Hall. Everywhere the flames touched, everything melted instantly—tiles and bricks liquefied, beams collapsed, walls crumbled; amid the billowing smoke and dust, half of the hall's roof was consumed by the flames, leaving Daxiong Bao Hall exposed under the moonlight.
"That's some vicious Demon Flame," Li Ang remarked, slightly astonished, his expression grave. This demon flame was perilous to the touch and lethal upon contact, far more terrifying than a white phosphorus bomb. He had no desire to test whether a mortal body could withstand the scorching of the demon flame.