Chapter Fifty: The Mist

The town was called Spring Arrival. Many people traveled through from north and south, and among them were a few cultivators or spirit-fox immortals who disguised themselves as ordinary mortals, refraining from worldly affairs due to their low cultivation. The mission assigned to Xu Cheng and his companions was akin to a decapitation strike—eliminate the backbone of the Great Xia Dynasty.

There was no need to make enemies of those merely pretending to be mortals; they only needed to find out the exact whereabouts of the cultivators serving the imperial court.

The cultivators and spirit-fox immortals who passed as mortals were, for the most part, gentle in disposition. Though their disguises were convincing, Xu Cheng possessed the Eye of the Yellow Springs and could see through their true forms.

Take, for instance, the elderly storyteller in the teahouse at midday. His true body was that of a white fox. The qi within him was pure and clear, evidence that he cultivated the path of immortality.

“They say General Wu Wenhou is unmatched in martial prowess, yet yesterday he failed to take Gunzhou City. The reason? Hovering above the city was a monstrous beast, so enormous that it could swallow tens of thousands of his soldiers whole, and a single roar could slay hundreds of thousands more. Even Wu Wenhou dared not approach and prepared to retreat. Curiously, the Martial Emperor, upon hearing of the defeat, did not punish him. Instead, from a thousand miles away, he bestowed nine divine swords upon him—these being a set of mother-daughter swords, wondrous beyond compare!”

The old man recounted the tale with such fervor, it was as if he had witnessed it himself.

One could only wonder how he came by such news. The event had only occurred yesterday, yet he already knew of it.

Xu Cheng tossed a few silver coins onto the table and turned to leave the teahouse, uninterested in uncovering the old man’s secrets.

Just then, a squad of Great Xia soldiers burst in, quickly surrounding the storyteller. Their leader was clearly a martial cultivator of the dynasty, at the Martial Seal stage—equivalent to the Spell Seal realm for the spell practitioners.

At first, Xu Cheng thought he had been discovered and was already weighing whether to suppress them with force. But it turned out their target was the old man.

The leader bellowed, “Old fox, how dare you tell stories here! Do you think you can act as if I don’t exist?”

“Mercy, good sirs! Mercy! I have done nothing against heaven or reason!” the fox spirit pleaded, his cultivation only at the Talisman realm, possessing only inner qi.

Compared to the power of Jade Liquid mana, his qi was as feeble as a newborn’s strength pitted against a grown man’s—a chasm as vast as heaven and earth.

“Hmph! Why would I bother reasoning with a monster like you?” the black-armored commander sneered. By now, many patrons had fled in terror, though a few oblivious souls remained, cracking sunflower seeds as if nothing had happened.

The remaining patrons, upon hearing the old man was a monster, cried out in alarm and quickly bolted.

“Seize him!” the commander ordered.

Several Martial Talisman-level sub-captains placed their blades against the old man’s throat, drawing a line of blood and beads of red welling along the cut.

The old man’s desperate pleas rang in Xu Cheng’s ears. Should he save him? Or not?

He decided—deal with them all at once.

Xu Cheng exchanged a glance with Yan Mengdie and Ju Hua.

Suddenly, nine massive black chains erupted around Xu Cheng, instantly shackling the commander and the martial cultivators holding the old man at knifepoint.

Everything happened so quickly that the remaining ordinary soldiers had no time to react before they were slain by the swift Yan Mengdie and Ju Hua.

The souls of these men were drawn by Xu Cheng straight into the Yellow Springs as sacrifice.

In an instant, the teahouse was empty save for the old man and Xu Cheng’s group.

“Thank you, benefactor! Thank you for saving me! I have nothing with which to repay you!” The fox spirit, having truly taken the path of immortality, was polite and grateful, far from the bloodthirsty monsters of legend.

“No need for thanks. I am, however, curious—how did you know what happened in Gunzhou City?” Xu Cheng asked hastily, unable to bear the fox’s tearful gratitude.

The old fox swept his gaze over each of the five, clearly unwilling at first to reveal his secret.

But then Yan Mengdie withdrew the cloud that veiled her face, revealing the black markings upon her features, and spoke, “You must be of the Tushan clan. Speak freely—we are kin.”

“Ah, so you are a fairy of the Luoyu clan! I was blind indeed. In truth, it is no great secret. We spirit-fox immortals possess an intelligence network; events in this world, no matter how far, are known to us in an instant,” the fox replied, his tone calm.

It seemed the spirit-fox immortals were far more powerful than imagined. After a pause, he added, “I believe it is unwise to linger here. Before I go, let me warn you—a powerful blood mist has appeared five miles northwest of Spring Arrival. The court has sent many Spell Seal cultivators, but none have returned. Beware, all of you!”

With that, the fox vanished in a flash.

So be it—let him go. He was right: alerting a Golden Core cultivator was one thing, but if a Nascent Soul cultivator appeared, Xu Cheng and his group might not survive.

The five transformed into a stream of light and sped towards the area five miles northwest of the town.

Xu Cheng was determined to see for himself what was happening there.

Upon arrival, they found not blood-red light but a dense mist. The crimson vapor lingered without dissipating, and anything living that touched it—even plants—would dissolve into more of the red haze.

Even the ground was a pool of blood.

The scene before them was truly strange and sinister.

“Who goes there? Imperial business—leave at once!”

The five had been observing for some time when another group arrived from behind—imperial agents again.

Truly, the road to heaven is open yet you choose not to walk it; the gates of hell are closed yet you barge right in!

“Damn it! Watch me wipe them out!” roared a burly brute from the new arrivals. He was all muscle, as though cast in bronze and iron, and looked fiercely formidable. His cultivation was indeed impressive—at the Golden Core stage—while their leader was at the Dao Forging realm.

To wipe out this group would not be easy.

“Wait, Iron Ox! So the Luoyu fairy still lives and has come here? Fortune smiles on me today. Well, fairy, why not accompany me?” the leader said, recognizing Yan Mengdie, whose face was no longer veiled.

Since she was recognized, there was only one thing to do—kill.

In a flash, Xu Cheng struck, nine chains lashing out, blazing with nether fire that pierced several soldiers. Iron Ox, for all his bulk, was surprisingly agile, narrowly dodging the attack.

“Why resist so stubbornly?” the leader said coolly, unfazed by the loss of his men.

His martial talismans surged to their utmost, the very air seeming to tremble.

“You talk too much,” Xu Cheng replied, his form turning shadowy as he became a streak of black light, reaping soldiers’ lives like a death god.

“Iron Ox, Shi Lei, Xiao Yan—you take care of the others. I’ll handle Yan Mengdie!” the leader commanded swiftly.

“Yes!” The others lunged at Xu Cheng’s group of Golden Core cultivators.

The leader was left to face Yan Mengdie alone.