Shen Huo was a man of visceral passion. The moment he learned Qin Sang was also a body cultivator, his attitude transformed entirely. Pulling Qin Sang down, he dropped onto the bench beside him, lifted the flagon from the table to drain it in one long draught, and wiped the wine from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
He had intended to clap Qin Sang on the shoulder, but for some reason changed his mind mid-motion. Instead, his hand slammed down onto the table. "They all claim our Dragon-Tiger Altar is a barbarian Dao! What do those fools know? How could fiddling with soldiers and horses ever match the thrill of laying a foe flat with a single fist? Daoist Qingfeng, on the sole merit that you cultivate the Dragon-Tiger Altar, you have Shen's trust!"
Shi Xuan drained his own cup and smiled wryly to himself.
Having known Shen Huo for years, he understood the man's temperament well—the moment Shen Huo met someone walking the same path, he treated them as a bosom friend.
The smile never leaving his face, Qin Sang raised his cup in an answering toast and drank it down.
From what he had gathered so far, the Dragon-Tiger Altar and the Soldier-Horse Altar represented different schools of cultivation among the Daoist disciples of this realm.
Beyond these two, there was also the Golden Seal Altar.
The Soldier-Horse Altar was easy enough to understand. A Daoist summoned and maintained soldiers and horses. Not only could they deploy formations and command an entire host single-handedly, but they could also harmonize their soldiers' minds into a collective spiritual contemplation, aiding their cultivation.
The Daoist sects called this "securing the altar with soldiers and horses," and it was regarded as the orthodox lineage.
Yet not every Daoist possessed the resources to maintain such a host.
Those hailing from prestigious sects or the Daoist Court's Two Courts had Daoist soldiers nurtured within their sects. Upon receiving their talismanic registers, their masters and elders would allocate a cohort of soldiers and horses directly to them.
Born and raised within the sect, these Daoist soldiers were fiercely loyal to their masters and could obey commands without requiring tedious drill and training.
Those without sect-allotted Daoist soldiers had to venture out personally to subdue demons and conscript their own troops.
Setting aside whether one had the strength to subdue demons in the first place, tracking down spirits compatible with oneself required tremendous effort.
Monster soldiers subjugated in this manner were known as Wuchang soldiers and horses.
As the name implied, they were untamed and wild. At the start, they were merely a rabble of scoundrels who could never follow orders without rigorous drill, and even after being broken in, they required constant offerings of food and sacrifice.
Most hosts that rebelled and blew apart their own altars belonged to this category. When even Perfected Persons of Danxiao Mansion had fallen victim to such backlashes, the difficulty was obvious.
Nevertheless, once a host was successfully raised, it not only bolstered one's cultivation progress, but when drawn up on the battlefield, the formations, talismans, and incantations it unleashed possessed astonishing power. The only flaw was that one's foundation became deeply entangled with the host; if the soldiers suffered heavy casualties, the register altar risked destabilization.
Then there was the path of forgoing soldiers and horses altogether.
One either recruited none or kept very few, instead relying on natural wonders and external forces to forge a solid altar. As the Daoist cultivated, the altar and register fused together into an emblem, coalescing into a genuine golden seal.
The Daoist sects called this "anchoring the altar with a golden seal."
Aside from the deep-pocketed Two Courts of the Daoist Court, the number of Daoist soldiers other sects could maintain was limited. Beyond their core legacy disciples, most students formed Golden Seal Altars. Yet finding the natural wonders required to cast such an altar was by no means an easy feat.
Qin Sang had yet to witness a cultivator of the Golden Seal Altar in action and did not know how they fared in battle.
Rumor had it that the two paths were not mutually exclusive, and plenty of cultivators practiced both.
Whether securing the altar with soldiers or casting it with rare wonders, the goal was identical: to build a stable register altar that could house the register and serve as an anchor for spiritual contemplation.
The talismanic register stabilized origin qi, while the divine general safeguarded the mind.
The third school was the Dragon-Tiger Altar. In truth, it was founded upon tempering the physical body until qi and blood converged with the momentum of a dragon and a tiger, from which it took its name.
Those who cultivated the Dragon-Tiger Altar no longer feared the Six Heavens' ancient qi like a venomous beast. They even deliberately drew upon it to temper their physical forms. Even so, they still had to receive a talismanic register, condense a register altar, and visualize an altar-guarding divine general.
No matter the school, spiritual contemplation was an absolute necessity. Only through it could one cultivate in peace within this realm.
At this thought, Qin Sang could not help but recall the snake demon inside his spirit beast bag. The demon register it cultivated felt remarkably similar to the Daoist Dragon-Tiger Altar; the only difference lay in the focus of their visualization.
Detecting the resentment in Shen Huo's tone, Qin Sang quickly deduced the reason with a brief turn of thought.
It matched the information he had gathered: prevailing opinion in the Daoist sects regarded the Soldier-Horse Altar as superior and the Dragon-Tiger Altar as inferior, even giving rise to the derogatory moniker of "barbarian Dao."
"The Six Heavens' ancient qi is everywhere! Those beasts with fur and horns thrive in it like fish in water. If we let them monopolize that advantage, when will we ever wipe out the demon kingdoms and purge the demonic blight? Since we were born into this realm, we ought to adapt to Heaven's mandate! Yet the world remains utterly obstinate!"
Shen Huo fumed with indignation, glaring darkly at Shi Xuan and his sister, lumping his two friends into the criticism as well.
He had no faith in so-called Daoist orthodoxy, stubbornly convinced that the Dragon-Tiger Altar was the one true way.
Because he made no effort to lower his voice, his words carried outside the cabin. Several Daoists on the deck overheard and looked displeased, yet none dared approach to argue, cowed by Shen Huo's cultivation and the combat prowess he had displayed moments earlier.
Luo Yin puffed her cheeks in vexation, yet she could not muster a rebuttal.
Shi Xuan gave a helpless chuckle, summoned an attendant to bring over a large jug of fine wine, and nudged it in front of Shen Huo to plug his mouth.
"Demonic cultivators are uniquely endowed by nature, born suited for the path of physical strength. We humans possess no special bloodlines, and our flesh is frail. Is cultivating the Dragon-Tiger Altar truly any easier than the other paths? Brother Shen, you and Daoist Qingfeng must know far better than we do how many perils you had to endure during your cultivation."
Noticing Shi Xuan's glance, Qin Sang gave a slight nod, but showed no intention of joining the debate.
Disappointed, Shi Xuan was left to soothe Shen Huo on his own, talking until his throat was parched, only to be shut down by Shen Huo's next retort.
"You claim with absolute certainty that reaching the depths of your cultivation allows you to summon heavenly soldiers and heavenly generals through talismans, conscripting them as higher-altar hosts, or borrow the might of celestial deities to empower your incantations. So where are these celestial deities today? Day in and day out, you submit memorials to heaven, worship the virtuous stars and the Northern Dipper, harmonizing qi to invite the gods—have you ever once received a response? In the end, aren't you just like us, left with nothing more than an altar-guarding divine general conjured through spiritual contemplation?"
Shen Huo wore a look of utter disdain. Shi Xuan sighed deeply and shook his head repeatedly, no longer bothering to argue.
Shen Huo turned back to talk with Qin Sang.
Qin Sang had long realized that while Shen Huo appeared rough and boisterous, he possessed a sharp mind beneath the bluster. The man steered clear of genuine secrets and never let slip a single sensitive detail; anyone who assumed they could share their heart with him would be sorely mistaken.
Still, Shen Huo was no match for an old hand like Qin Sang. Without drawing the slightest attention, Qin Sang gleaned a great deal of useful intelligence, gaining a far deeper understanding of Jushan Diocese in particular.
Shen Huo had knocked about Jushan Diocese for years, which was where he had first met the Shi siblings.
Situated between the Daoist Court and the Guifang Kingdom, Jushan Diocese had long served as the battleground for the two powers.
Yet across decades of continuous warfare, neither side had managed to drive the other out. Instead, they were bogged down in a quagmire of war, their mutual enmity carved so deep in blood that reconciliation was impossible.
In recent years, the Daoist Court and the demon-ghost state had entered a truce to recover their strength. But Shen Huo insisted such peace would never last; both sides were bound to be sharpening their weapons and feeding their warhorses.
History showed that even if the Daoist Court reclaimed Jushan Diocese, the war would not end, and vice versa.
Even during truces, Jushan Diocese was never short of bloodshed.
Both sides garrisoned troops there, their open and covert clashes never ceasing. It was under such conditions that ritual writs and merit rewards had come into being.
Unlike the Daoist heartland, however, the Daoist Court maintained another faction in Jushan Diocese known as Yintian Palace, which was said to stand on equal footing with the Two Courts.
When speaking of Yintian Palace, even Shen Huo was full of praise. "The fellows I admire most are the Daoist friends of Yintian Palace. Rooted in Jushan Diocese, they take the slaying of demons and devils as their personal duty, never dreaming of comfort or leisure, spending every single day locked in combat with evil!"
Its full name was Zhoujue Yintian Palace, though outsiders usually called it Yintian Palace. The name derived from the six heavenly palaces of Daoist lore.
Legend held that the Northern Emperor presided over the Nether Capital of Fengdu, the pivot of the Nine Earths, where six heavenly palaces were established. Zhoujue Yintian Palace was the first among them.
Qin Sang had heard the name of Yintian Palace before, and upon hearing Shen Huo mention it, he listened with rapt attention.
To Qin Sang, the more factions present in Jushan Diocese, the better. The messier the board, the easier it would be to fish in troubled waters.
Chatting and laughing, they sailed past several heavily fortified passes aboard the official vessel.
The Shi siblings never brought up the contents of the ritual writ, and Qin Sang refrained from pressing them.
Once they grew better acquainted, they briefly shared their respective capabilities to facilitate cooperation later on.
Qin Sang naturally presented himself as a body cultivator whose divine abilities were rooted entirely in his own flesh.
When they reached the final imposing fortress along the river, even the official vessel dared proceed no further. By then, aside from the official soldiers, only the four of them remained on board.
"The road ahead will be turbulent. Everyone, stay alert."
Shi Xuan rose first and stepped out of the cabin.
Possessing cultivation of their own, Qin Sang and the others followed him, soaring across the river's surface. After flying along the bank for a stretch, they made landfall.
As far as the eye could see, a barren wasteland stretched out before them.
In truth, ever since transferring to the official vessel, the scenery along both banks had grown increasingly desolate.
The Daoist Court's resources were limited after all; it could not garrison experts at every hour to guard against harassment by demons and ghosts. When necessary, such outlying lands had to be temporarily abandoned.
The group traversed mountains and ridges, making swift progress for several days until a continuous mountain range rose ahead, filled with perilous peaks and treacherous waters.
Shi Xuan leaped onto a crest, surveyed the surroundings, and turned back to warn them, "Restrain your auras. Whatever you do, do not fly high in the sky. Without cover, you will easily be spotted by demons and ghosts, giving them time to set an ambush."
These words were meant primarily for Qin Sang.
Though fiery-tempered by nature, Shen Huo showed not a trace of carelessness now.
Qin Sang had not expected such caution to be necessary immediately upon entering Jushan Diocese. Inquiring further, he learned that the Daoist Court and the demon-ghost state confronted each other in the central region of the diocese, where immortal officials and grand armies were stationed, making it the safest zone.
By contrast, in these remote borderlands, one was likely to encounter roving demon soldiers from the Guifang Kingdom. Any encounter meant a fight to the death.
Kill or be killed!
Qin Sang heeded the advice readily, selecting a suit of precious armor from the Qianjun Ring to don over his robes.
Shi Xuan gave it a couple of extra glances but did not pry. Signaling for everyone to halt, he turned to Qin Sang and said, "You have admirable patience, Brother. Even though I have not revealed the contents of the writ to this point, you refrained from asking and traveled with us for this long."
Qin Sang smiled faintly. "Since you accepted the writ and invited this poor Daoist along, it must not exceed my capabilities. When the time comes, I will learn of it anyway, so why waste breath beforehand?"
Shen Huo shouted his approval.
Shi Xuan gave Qin Sang a profound look. "That you can place your trust in us is truly our honor. Still, not all who walk the Dao are men of virtue; scoundrels who murder for treasure are not lacking. With its chaotic landscape, Jushan Diocese has become a refuge for filth. Whenever the Daoist Court launches a purge, there are even those who defect to the Guifang Kingdom. One can never be too careful, so please remain vigilant, Brother."
"Many thanks for your goodwill, Daoist friend."
Qin Sang cupped his hands in a polite salute.
Seeing that Qin Sang harbored no arrogance, Shi Xuan nodded inwardly and said, "To be frank with you, this writ from the Northern Pole Exorcism Court charges us with toppling mountains and breaching shrines, to eliminate several evil gods!"
"Toppling mountains and breaching shrines?"
Qin Sang started slightly, his mind instantly turning to the mountain gods and earth gods under the Daoist Court's dominion.
He had yet to uncover the origins of these terrestrial spirits. Shi Xuan hailed from Jiuhua Cave Heaven, so Qin Sang had assumed he might know more, yet when Qin Sang had probed earlier, even Shi Xuan could not explain it clearly. He only knew that mountain gods, earth gods, City Gods, and Marchmount Gods were all conferred titles by the Daoist Court.
As for the legendary heavenly soldiers and heavenly generals, they were even more mysterious. Just as Shen Huo had said, cultivators of the world knew only altar-guarding divine generals, never having witnessed celestial deities manifest their presence.
Evil gods...
Qin Sang mused to himself: following that logic, those conferred titles by the Daoist Court were the orthodox gods.
He looked up, surveying the surrounding mountains and rivers.
Ever since entering Jushan Diocese, he had not sensed a trace of any mountain gods or earth gods.
However, Shen Huo had mentioned that in central Jushan Diocese, across the lands occupied by the Daoist Court, there were indeed terrestrial spirits invested by the court, who played a significant role in their struggles against the Guifang Kingdom.
As they spoke, Shi Xuan flicked his finger, sending out a fleck of yellow radiance that unfurled before them into a spiritual talisman.
The writ existed in the form of a talisman, containing a brief overview of the mission alongside a rudimentary topographical map.
The map was crude, serving merely to indicate direction.
It marked none of the dangers along the way. With demons and ghosts roaming Jushan Diocese and the situation shifting three times a day, they had to remain vigilant on their own. Fortunately, their destination was not excessively distant.
"From here, we head due east. Once we reach the vicinity of that evil shrine, we can scout the path carefully," Shen Huo said after looking it over, pointing forward with easy nonchalance.
Shi Xuan agreed, put away the yellow talisman, and rallied the group onward.
A month later.
The journey proved uneventful despite a few tense moments.
Deep within a mountain range, the four gathered together, consulting the map to verify their bearings before finally confirming their objective.
"It's right ahead, less than five hundred li away! What kind of evil god dares erect a shrine here? Taste your Daoist grandpa's sword!"
Shouldering his greatsword, Shen Huo charged ahead, radiating murderous intent.
The others followed closely on his heels.
As they drew near the evil shrine, the group was surprised to discover that the ghost-folk here differed drastically from those elsewhere. They lived in clusters of huts, forming villages.
Halting outside one such settlement, they saw that while the ghost-folk within still retained some bestial traits, they had already learned basic courtesies and were clearing wasteland around the perimeter to farm.
In front of the village lay a tamped circular plaza upon which stood a stone statue.
Though crudely carved, it was clearly recognizable as a monster with the head of a fox and the body of a human.
Offerings were laid out in abundance before the statue, proving that the ghost-folk here held this creature in deep reverence, making daily sacrifices.
The four exchanged glances and silently bypassed the village, pressing onward until they arrived before a rugged, precipitous peak.
Standing at the foot of the mountain, they could see a temple perched high atop the cliff. Bathed in the morning sun, it radiated a golden glow, though plumes of mist and smoke coiled incessantly above it.
Qin Sang had thought an evil god might be some distinct entity, but to his surprise, what emanated from the temple was still demon qi.
Moreover, the mountain's demon qi coalesced into a single surging current, indicating that monsters were gathered there in no small numbers.
Shen Huo had long grown impatient. After gazing up at the aura for a few breaths, he stomped his foot heavily. His bones crackled loudly as he silently formed a hand seal, his body swelling abruptly into a giant several zhang tall.
His already straining Daoist robe burst open on the spot, revealing a suit of iron armor.
With his broad face and wide ears set in a fierce grin, Shen Huo raised his greatsword high, leaped upward into the air, and let out a thundering roar.
"Your Daoist grandpa has arrived!"
At the same time, Shi Xuan and Luo Yin sprang into action.
Qin Sang's attention fell on Shi Xuan, who cultivated the Golden Seal Altar.
Shi Xuan rose into the air, spiritual light flickering before him to reveal a blue ritual altar. It was somewhat smaller than an ordinary Soldier-Horse Altar, but the register seal within was distinctly more condensed.
With a flick of his finger, a streak of flowing light shot forth from the register seal, transforming midair into a spiritual talisman.
Chapter 1755