Chapter Forty-Two: The Ambush

At night, the soldiers, exhausted from their forced march, had all sunk into deep sleep. Unable to rest himself, Xu Cheng wandered aimlessly around the camp. Chrysanthemum, that peculiar fellow, was actually able to calm his mind and cultivate—even after living so long, his temperament truly was different from others.

As he walked, Xu Cheng suddenly bumped into something unseen and transparent. With a startled cry, the “object” revealed its form, and upon closer inspection, Xu Cheng saw it was none other than Yan Mengdie!

“What are you doing here?” Xu Cheng asked immediately.

“I—I’m just looking around!” Yan Mengdie replied, raising her chin at a forty-five-degree angle to gaze at the sky, as if she had appeared there by accident.

To think this woman had followed along—Xu Cheng wanted to say something about war being a man’s business, but then recalled that her cultivation was likely higher than his own.

“I just wanted to see what a battle’s like! And besides, it’s not just me, they’re here too!” Yan Mengdie found herself an excuse.

Immediately, two other figures emerged: one was Chu Tiancheng, the Nine Lives Cat Demon, and the other was Qing Man.

These three...

Xu Cheng didn’t know what to say. Wouldn’t it be better if they just followed the Daoist and Buddhist factions behind, playing a minor role? Once on the battlefield, people on all sides would inevitably die. Then he could open the Gate of the Yellow Springs and reap some benefits, revealing his strength only when necessary.

But now, he might have to show his hand early, nipping any danger in the bud. Surrounded by Devil Sect cultivators, if these three were exposed, what would he do if discord broke out among his own side?

"You... you should disguise yourselves," Xu Cheng said, fetching a few sets of ordinary soldiers’ armor for the three to change into.

With their company, Xu Cheng finally felt more at ease, and sat down to meditate, refining his mana.

Within his body, his Golden Core spun slightly, gathering the divine light of the cosmos. It mingled with fragments of his soul, transforming into a pale golden mist, which then condensed into the Golden Core itself, from which a strong pulse of vitality arose.

When this vitality grew strong enough, it would form the Dao Embryo—a painstaking, gradual process. At this stage, the effect of the Underworld True Pills was much diminished.

He meditated until morning, awakening to the clamor of the camp.

---

“So you’re saying, there are voices and the sounds of horses within a hundred li?” the Little Sword Demon asked a man with a sharp, monkey-like face and unusually long ears.

“That’s right. I, Liu Yuan, haven’t spent much time cultivating attack techniques, but this Eavesdropping Art is what I’ve practiced the most!” The man’s name was Liu Yuan, and he possessed a spell that let him hear across vast distances. “I can hear them right in the canyon ahead!”

A spark of joy lit the Little Sword Demon’s face—he hadn’t expected such talent among the Devil Sect ranks.

He immediately gave the order to march, preparing for an ambush. In his own words: “They dare to attack us before we’ve even moved against them? Do they think I, the Little Sword Demon, am just here for the ride?”

Xu Cheng followed with six others at his back. Yan Mengdie, Chu Tiancheng, and Qing Man kept their heads down as they walked, grateful the Devil Sect folk hadn’t noticed them.

They ascended the mountain path, following the Little Sword Demon’s plan to ambush from the summit those below.

At the mountaintop, everyone grew more cautious, muffling their footsteps and even wrapping cloth around the horses’ hooves.

Below, the soldiers were packed tightly, unaware of the threat above.

“Those with large-scale spells and archers, get ready! When I count down, we unleash everything!” the Little Sword Demon whispered, his voice carrying clearly to every ear.

The entire company held its breath, waiting for the command.

Ordinary soldiers stood at the summit with bows on their backs, shoulder to shoulder with cultivators.

“Three! Two! One!”

With a swishing sound, the sky filled with arrows, and a torrent of spells rained down.

Xu Cheng pulled a gourd made of sand from his back. With a flick, a drop of black liquid fell into the canyon below.

Liu Yuan, monkey-faced and sharp-eared, saw Xu Cheng’s spell and snickered, “Brother, your spell’s not nearly as good as mine—it’s just a drop—”

Before he could finish, the black liquid struck the ground and instantly surged into a flood of darkness. As it neared the soldiers of the Great Xia Dynasty below, it hardened in the blink of an eye, sprouting spikes that pierced soldier after soldier.

The sight left Liu Yuan gaping, his face flushing with embarrassment as he slunk away.

But Xu Cheng’s underworld flood was not yet spent. The water transformed entirely into black spikes, densely filling the entire canyon.

This was merely an ordinary Underworld Sorcery. If he were to use the Immortal Art of the Yellow Springs and the Forgetting River, the power would be unimaginable.

---

Yet the Immortal Art of the Yellow Springs and the Forgetting River was one of Xu Cheng’s trump cards—not to be revealed lightly.

The sudden barrage of spells and arrows, coupled with Xu Cheng’s sorcery, utterly annihilated the Great Xia Dynasty’s vanguard.

The souls of the dead soldiers still stood dazed on the spot, as if unaware they had perished.

Seeing this, Xu Cheng was delighted. He opened the Gate of the Yellow Springs, and chains dragged the dazed souls into the underworld for sacrifice. He gained over fifty Underworld True Pills and had just distributed them to Chrysanthemum and the others when the Little Sword Demon rode over.

“May I ask, sir, which illustrious figure of our Devil Sect might you be?”

It was only natural—the power of Xu Cheng’s Underworld Sorcery had drawn attention.

“I am Xu Cheng, Envoy of the Yellow Springs!”

Given his identity, the Devil Sect would be more likely to accept him, so Xu Cheng transformed into his true form—a skeleton.

“It’s the Envoy of the Yellow Springs!” Liu Yuan cried out first, conveniently attributing his own inadequate spellwork to Xu Cheng’s identity. Around them, people began to whisper in awe.

The Little Sword Demon waved a hand, silencing the crowd. “So it’s the Envoy of the Yellow Springs! No wonder you possess such might! Would you be willing to serve as vice commander?”

With this, he was testing whether Xu Cheng had any interest in rank.

“Commander, to be honest, I prefer work that doesn’t require much thinking,” Xu Cheng replied, pointing to his skull, as if to say he literally had no brain now.

“Hahaha! You jest, Envoy! If you’re not interested, I won’t press the matter!” the Little Sword Demon laughed, then resumed directing the company to rest on the spot. The morning’s results were fruitful—the annihilation of the Great Xia’s vanguard was a major victory, one that would surely boost morale back in Gunjou City.

“Lord Right Envoy, why not take the vice commander position?” Chrysanthemum asked softly.

“For me, vice commander means little. Our aim is to preserve ourselves and gather more Underworld True Pills. Besides, can’t you see the Little Sword Demon clearly doesn’t want me as vice commander?” Xu Cheng replied in a low voice, sensing the Little Sword Demon’s reluctance to share command with him.

It made sense—any leader would want to keep the reins of power firmly in hand. Adding another authority figure would only unsettle the whole group.