The Spirit Medium Shows His Might

It can even do tricks like this?! Li Yan had kept his divine power active the entire time, so he naturally noticed the incoming threat. He had not expected the marionettes to possess physical combat abilities in addition to their wicked soul-calling sorcery. What he did not know was that this was precisely what made puppetry arts so terrifying. Formless entities like yin souls and spirit soldiers struck primarily at a person's soul. As long as targeted defenses were mounted, or one sought refuge inside a shrine rich in incense offerings, they could easily be avoided. In such predicaments, yin souls and evil spirits had no choice but to seek out flesh-and-blood vessels. Just like when he had dealt with the cold-altar rampaging soldier: while he hid inside his home, the thing had been able to march right up to his door, but once he took shelter in the Earth God Temple, it could only possess a vicious wolf to launch an attack. Puppetry was developed precisely to compensate for that very flaw. Knowing full well that preparing an unholy sacrifice would prompt his sect to strip his authority to mobilize spirit soldiers, Chen Fakui was left with only the few lower-altar soldiers he had nurtured himself. By marrying them with puppetry, he could patch up many weaknesses. Though Li Yan did not grasp the esoteric details behind the art, he had no fear of such physical assaults. Shifting his weight to one side, he braked abruptly to slip past the strike, rolling like a lazy dragon as he slashed his Guanshan blade upward. Clatter! The laosheng wooden marionette was instantly cleaved clean in two. Its shattered components tumbled to the dirt. The yin soul lurking inside was shredded by the sha qi of the Three Powers Demon-Suppressing Coins, dissipating into wisps of yin mist. Even before touching the ground, Li Yan tucked his head into a roll. Whoosh! A scorching column of flame erupted from the branches above. It was an attack from the jing puppet. The jing role in opera was colloquially called the painted face: the grand painted face portrayed loyal ministers and upright generals; the secondary painted face represented rough, rash figures; and the martial painted face specialized in acrobatics and combat. This particular jing puppet was dressed as a warrior general with five command banners planted in its back. Opening its mouth wide, it spewed a blazing torrent of fire oil. Naturally, the fiery breath was not sorcery. A leather bladder was concealed inside the puppet's belly, and a piece of flint rested in its mouth; once the yin soul manipulated the internal mechanism, the flame was unleashed. Once the bladder was squeezed dry and the oil depleted, it would be unable to spit fire again. Yet the jing puppet did not halt its assault. Crouched on a thick tree branch, it flailed both arms and hurled the five miniature command flags from its back like hidden darts. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Li Yan rolled aside to evade them, and all five flags thudded into the earth. Perhaps because the laosheng marionette had been cut down in a single blow, the remaining puppets refrained from closing in. The jing puppet launched projectile attacks from afar, while the chou puppet persisted in calling souls. Bizarre, cackling laughter and the pleading cries of various familiar voices rang incessantly in Li Yan's ears. Li Yan's gaze remained frigid. Ignoring the clamor completely, he spun around and sprinted on. His objective was not merely to draw their fire, but to swiftly pinpoint the tomb where Chen Fakui was holed up. Whoosh! Moving with blistering speed, he approached two large trees and abruptly dropped into an iron bridge, sliding through on his knees with his torso arched backward, flinging his blade as he passed. The dan puppet had proved the most insidious. While the jing and chou puppets gave chase, it had quietly circled ahead, drawing a slender steel wire from its flowing water sleeves and stringing it taut between the two trunks. The wire was hair-thin, virtually invisible in the dark. Had anyone bolted through at a sprint, their head might have been cleanly sheared off. Yet Li Yan had sensed the trap long before and dodged it effortlessly. Springing back to his feet without even looking, he wrenched the Guanshan blade from the tree trunk and continued his charge. Clatter! With the blade pulled free, the dan puppet concealed behind the trunk collapsed into a heap of splinters, its yin soul dispersing into nothingness. Watching from the rear, Luo Mingzi gave a silent nod of approval. To pull off such a fluid sequence of evasions and counterattacks at Li Yan's age was remarkably rare—better even than most seasoned veterans of the jianghu. Given time, the lad would undoubtedly become an exceptional talent. It was a pity that the Taixuan Orthodox Sect had strict rules, particularly the Enforcement Hall, which only recruited and groomed children from an early age. Still, bringing him on as an external operative would be no problem at all... At last, after tearing across the mid-mountain trail, Li Yan caught the scent of Yuan Qu and Zheng Heibei once more. Though faint, it clearly pointed the way forward. Right ahead in the dense forest ravine! The tomb passage had already been unsealed, surrounded by scattered bricks. Desperate to halt Li Yan's advance, the remaining three marionettes abandoned all pretense of concealment. They leaped down from the boughs and came hurtling forward with sharp weapons bared. A cold, ferocious smirk touched Li Yan's lips as he leveled his Guanshan blade. Step forward, upward slash. Reverse step, backhand diagonal cut. A final sparrowhawk flip, bringing the blade down with both hands in a ferocious cleave! Each of the three strikes was swifter than the last, brimming with piercing murderous intent. Clatter... All three wooden puppets shattered into kindling. Chen Fakui's puppetry might have been uncanny, but pitting those puppets in close-quarters combat against a trained bladesman was no different from courting death. Yet after obliterating the puppets, not a trace of triumph appeared on Li Yan's face. His expression abruptly shifted, and he threw himself into a lateral roll. Boom! Earth sprayed everywhere as a figure came rocketing forward. It was none other than Zheng Heibei, chief of the Iron Saber Gang. At that moment, his appearance was utterly transformed. He had already been a hulking man built like a black bear, but now his muscles bulged like twisted roots, veins throbbed, his eyes burned bloodshot, and his face was scrawled with crimson talismans—looking for all the world like a living yaksha. Sensing that things were going awry, Chen Fakui had sent Zheng Heibei to intercept the intruder. In his current state, Zheng Heibei shared the same manic excitement Yuan Qu had felt earlier. A surge of boundless vigor coursed through his body, and bloodlust flooded his mind as he closed the distance with an ape leap. His ape leap was slightly slower than Yuan Qu's, yet far more ferocious. Debris and loose soil erupted in all directions. Li Yan felt a foul tempest roar past him, narrowly missing him thanks to his timely roll. Still, this was his first time facing a possessed spirit medium. No sooner had he regained his footing and brought his blade across in defense than Zheng Heibei slammed to an abrupt halt. Sinking his right foot deep into the earth, the gang chief unleashed another burst of hidden jin, lunging forward with another ape leap. Between the two maneuvers, there was scarcely a breath of hesitation. Li Yan's face paled, but it was already too late. Zheng Heibei bore down like a roaring gale. Relaxing his shoulders and wrapping his elbows, he connected the power through both arms, his joints popping with sharp cracks as his right fist punched forward. Though his mind was clouded by an entangling yin soul and frenzied bloodlust, and though he had learned the Zhou family's Zi Monkey Fist, instinct compelled him to rely on the Tongbei Fist he had drilled since childhood. When Tongbei Fist struck with a crack, it was known as cold, crisp jin. Li Yan barely managed to brace the spine of his blade against his elbow when an immense force smashed into him. It felt as though a battering ram had slammed into his guard, hurling him seven or eight meters through the air. He crashed violently against a tree before tumbling to the dirt. The impact shattered the bones in his arm, leaving his chest suffocated and his vision blacking out. "Hahaha..." Across from him, Zheng Heibei let out a manic laugh. But just as he moved to press the attack, his entire body stiffened, and he froze in place, not daring to twitch a muscle. From the woods behind, Luo Mingzi strode out slowly, blade in hand. His gaze was frigid as he steadily drew his Seven Stars Sword. Luo Mingzi felt a touch of helplessness. With Li Yan under assault, he could not very well stand by and watch the young bladesman die, leaving him no choice but to reveal himself ahead of schedule. Besides, with his cultivation at the second-story level, he was not yet capable of channeling hidden jin for attacks while maintaining a concealment art. Otherwise, there would have been no need for such exposure. Luo Mingzi's appearance did more than freeze Zheng Heibei with overwhelming killing intent; it rattled Chen Fakui inside the tomb as well. Waving his peach wood sword before the altar, the sorcerer shattered several wandering soul jars in quick succession. At the same time, he barked, "Help me repel the foe, and today I shall set you free!" Instantly, a foul wind arose. Plumes of black smoke howled into being, spiraling through the burial chamber before surging out of the entrance and plunging into Zheng Heibei's body. These were several powerful yin souls he had subjugated—entities on the verge of becoming fierce ghosts. He had originally intended to refine them into soldier marionettes, but now he had no choice but to expend them prematurely. "Roar!" As the yin souls surged into him, Zheng Heibei lost what remained of his sanity. His eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, freezing vapor snorted from his nostrils, and an inhuman roar ripped from his throat. Beneath the tree, Li Yan willed his strength forward, and his fractured bones and damaged internal organs knit together in an instant. Feeling the terrifying yin qi radiating from Zheng Heibei in the distance, he knew that joining the fray right now would only make him a burden, so he held his ground. Suddenly, an opening in the ground caught his eye. The scent of the children was wafting from within, accompanied by the faint yet distinct aroma of burning incense and candles. It was a robber's tunnel leading straight into the tomb! Without a second thought, Li Yan rolled over and slipped into the hole. In the distance, Luo Mingzi, who had awakened the divine power of the body, possessed eyesight far beyond ordinary mortals despite lacking Yin-Yang Eyes. He noticed Li Yan's movement immediately. His expression unchanging, the Daoist leveled his sword at Zheng Heibei. Though neither man had spoken a word, their coordination was seamless. If Li Yan had served as the decoy earlier, now it was Luo Mingzi's turn to draw the enemy's fury. As long as Li Yan slipped inside and destroyed the altar, everyone could be saved. "Roar!" Unable to endure the suffocating tension any longer, Zheng Heibei charged forward like a maddened beast... *** At the base of the mountain, the night wind howled beside the ritual altar. Sha Lifei tossed the remainder of the joss paper into the brazier. This paper was crafted from plant fibers such as rice straw, reeds, wild weeds, and bamboo. Coarse and yellowish, it was known in some regions as crude paper or straw paper, used primarily for wrapping and sacrificial burning. Whoosh! The night wind whipped up, stirring the flames into a spiraling vortex of fire. Baring his teeth, Sha Lifei scrambled backward. He glanced toward Zhao Facheng, thinking to himself that this dark-faced fellow truly lived up to his reputation as an ordained sect cultivator; with his two-story cultivation, his altar presence was vastly more formidable than Wang Daoxuan's. At that moment, Zhao Facheng impaled another yellow talisman on the tip of his sword, ignited it, formed a hand seal, and paced the Big Dipper steps before thrusting the blade diagonally toward the heavens. At the sight, a grin broke across Sha Lifei's face. Though he could not perceive invisible qi, he knew this was the ritual to summon spirit soldiers. Two commands had already been issued. All they needed was to hold out for the time it took an incense stick to burn; once the third command went forth and the City God Temple's She Ling spirit soldiers arrived in force, Chen Fakui would be forced to his knees even if he had three heads and six arms. Boom! Just then, a figure came hurtling down the mountain slope, churning up dirt and stones with ferocious killing intent—none other than Yuan Qu in his possessed medium trance!