That black wolf was lean and short, yet moved with extraordinary agility. Its pitch-black fur was somewhat peculiar, seemingly absorbing the whistling wind of its leaps and rendering its movements utterly silent and exceptionally difficult to guard against. Without anyone noticing, it had crept onto the roof beams and bided its time until now to pounce.
Wolves were cunning by nature. The target it chose without hesitation was the Reincarnator dressed as a swordsman, the one who had shown fear.
Flustered, the Reincarnator scattered a handful of sparks. What kind of spell those specks of fire were was hard to say, but upon being cast, they burst with sharp pops into a chain of orange fireballs that seemed to possess eyes of their own, automatically seeking out and attaching themselves to their airborne foe. The fireballs were remarkably swift, clinging to the wolf's pelt before it could even land on him. In the blink of an eye, the black wolf was transformed into a blazing orange ball of fire.
Demonic qi surged across the wolf's glossy pelt, seemingly trying to suppress the flames.
Yet the flames scattered by the Reincarnator possessed some strange property; instead of being quenched upon meeting demonic qi, they flared even more vigorously, as though fed by oil.
Though engulfed in raging fire, the black wolf retained its ferocity. Disregarding the excruciating pain of its fur, flesh, and bones burning away, it lunged straight at the Reincarnator. That short distance of ten feet vanished in an instant, a streak of fire shooting toward the Reincarnator's chest. But the Reincarnator merely sneered. Lifting the longsword in his hand, he raised a point of fiery light and thrust directly before him.
Qian Chen discerned that this follow-up firelight was imbued with the Reincarnator's magical power. With just a graze, it could detonate all the fire on the black wolf. It also harbored a trace of sacrificial power capable of converting the burning wolf's vitality and blood into strength for the swordsman Reincarnator.
It bore the distinct traces of shamanic sorcery.
Judging by the foundation of this magical power, how was this Reincarnator any kind of sword immortal or swordsman? His foundation lay entirely in shamanic arts. Relying on the bizarre bodily-refinement techniques of shamanic sorcery, he had no fear of close combat, while at range he possessed numerous curses and hexes—a quintessential spellcaster. Anyone who took him for a genuine swordsman would surely fall into his trap.
The origin of those sparks became clear as well.
It was certainly some sort of shamanic flame. Shamanic arts often possessed the power of sacrifice; a shamanic flame required only the sacrificial offering of a creature's essence and blood to transform into a state that countered that specific kind of being. The Reincarnator needed only to sacrifice the flesh and blood of a wolf demon to scatter shamanic sparks that burned both its body and demonic qi.
However, the flesh and blood he had used as a catalyst had not come from this black wolf, but from a much weaker wolf demon. Otherwise, under the burning of the shamanic fire, the wolf demon's essence-blood and demonic qi would have been fully ignited and reduced to ash in an instant, giving it no chance to fight to the death.
Just as the wolf demon was about to touch the fiery tip of the sword, its body writhed violently. It gave a sudden wrench, and from the burning silhouette of the fireball, a streak of bloody light erupted. In an almost impossible midair pivot, it swerved around the sword light, completely dodging the Reincarnator's sure-kill strike.
The burning blood-light moved like a phantom, so fast that there was no time to react... and sank its teeth into the Reincarnator's throat.
Only then did everyone see clearly: that streak of bloody light was a skinned blood wolf... or rather, a wolf ghost! Merely shedding its skin might not have shaken off the shamanic fire that clung like maggots to bone, but this wolf demon had resorted to a desperate measure akin to a cultivator's Heavenly Demon Disintegration, burning its physical flesh and sacrificing its soul to become a wolf ghost, finally breaking free of the physical vessel to turn into blood-light.
Daoist Zhiqiu from Kunlun paled in shock and cried out, "The Blood Demon Escape Technique!"
If the wolf demons possessed such life-risking arts, the pack they had previously looked down upon suddenly became terribly troublesome!
Even the scholar in white, who had remained calm throughout, took on a grave expression. Qian Chen, of course, put on a thoroughly terrified facade.
"Brother Zhou!" Shocked and furious, Zhiqiu unfurled a divine talisman writ drawn in cinnabar.
"Fiends disperse! Ghost-banishing Demon-subduing Mandate!"
A beam of golden light shot forth, and the blood wolf ghost was instantly blasted apart by the radiance. The spiteful demon ghost had no power to resist at all.
A subtle change crossed Qian Chen's expression. This time it was not feigned; even beneath his disguise, he was genuinely moved.
From that golden light, he had sensed the purest divine power imaginable... the aura of Emperor Xuantian, one of the foremost orthodox deities in the Jade Emperor's Heavenly Court.
In the Central Lands, this Emperor Xuantian was also known as the Northern True Martial Great Demon-Quelling Emperor. Utterly intolerant of evil, he was a celestial sovereign reputed to deliver all living beings at the end of kalpas, crush demonic teachings and heretical sects, and ensure that those who took refuge in Xuantian would never fall into evil ways.
This resolved a lingering doubt for Qian Chen. Five thousand years ago, when that fiend entered the abyss and beheld the Sea of Blood, deciphering the grand secrets of the demonic path to become the Blood Demon, who had been the hidden hand behind him? That went without saying. But Qian Chen had never believed the righteous cultivators of this world could destroy the Blood Demon without outside support; now, he had caught a glimpse of it.
With the True Martial Great Demon-Quelling Emperor's temperament, he naturally would not sit idly by upon seeing the Nine Underworlds invade and the Sea of Blood wreak havoc.
*He claims to be a Kunlun Daoist... making me think the Grand Master of Yuxu Palace had stepped in!* Qian Chen complained inwardly. *As a disciple of True Martial, why call yourself Kunlun Sect? Wouldn't Xuantian Palace or Wudang Sect be better? You made me think we were fellow travelers of the Three Purities, leaving me worried that exposing my identity while facing Miaokong would attract people from the Taishang Dao...*
The Reincarnator dressed as a swordsman lay dead on the spot, and Daoist Zhiqiu was overwhelmed with self-blame.
"My Daoist arts can only deal with demons and ghosts. When these wolf demons have their physical bodies to protect them and do not project their souls to fight to the death, I cannot do anything to them either. Fellow Daoists, gather close to me. I will draw a Golden Light Evil-Warding Incantation on everyone to guard against their blood-escape desperate strikes."
"No need!" The scholar in white patted a soft pouch at his waist and said, "Yan has his own swordsmanship for protection!"
"Unnecessary..." Qian Chen said coldly. "I have my own methods as well."
Only the reminder of his cold persona kept Qian Chen from lecturing him. He cast a frosty glance at the Reincarnator's corpse and remarked, "Besides, he may not even be dead! You'd better look after yourself!"
"That black wolf was merely a guard, not the alpha..."
"The alpha!" Zhiqiu froze slightly.
Yet before he could ponder it further, the wolves encircling the exterior of the hall, seeing the ambush fail, came surging in like a tide. The demon wolves were not beasts that fought without coordination; rather, they were organized in squads of several wolves, operating with close teamwork and disciplined tactics. Several would launch an assault together while the rest held back instead of crowding in blindly, leaving ample room for the attacking pack to maneuver.
They replenished casualties at any moment and struck from unexpected angles. Their mastery over the rhythm of assault and the oppressive pressure they exerted were difficult to put into words.
Zhiqiu, Scholar Yan, and Qian Chen drew together.
Zhiqiu even dragged the Reincarnator's corpse over to keep it from being torn apart in retaliation by the pack.
Qian Chen flicked the tall banner in his hand, and seven streams of baleful qi swept forward like giant pythons. Wherever they passed, the wolves' formation was thrown into disarray. The baleful qi blinded them, and the devils of the seven emotions within drove many demon wolves mad, turning them to tear savagely at their companions. Qian Chen's Seven Baleful Banner covered an enormous area and effectively broke the rhythm of their offensive.
Yet facing such a situation, a high-pitched howl echoed from the distance, and the pack's disposition shifted at once. From a dense charge, they dispersed into skirmish lines of three to five, launching a remarkably coordinated, interlocking infiltration attack.
Seeing this, Qian Chen could not help but marvel. No wonder the mortals of this world were virtually helpless against the wolves: the demon wolves' tactics had approached that of the World War II era from his previous life, even employing classic infantry three-three squad tactics.
Wolves naturally operated in small packs of three to five, so such three-three coordination came entirely second nature to them.
Furthermore, once their line dispersed, Qian Chen's baleful qi could no longer inflict mass casualties. From Scholar Yan's soft pouch, a gleam of sword light finally shot forth—it was a sword pill. Lingering with spiritual radiance, the sword pill unleashed a brilliant swathe of silver light and drilled a bloody hole straight through the skull of a demon wolf that had bypassed Qian Chen's Seven Baleful Banner.
The wolf perished without even a whimper.
Scholar Yan turned to Daoist Zhiqiu and said, "I'll hold off any demon wolves that slip past; you needn't strike for now. Go assist that fellow Daoist in holding the pack at bay!"
Zhiqiu nodded repeatedly. "Understood!"
Silently chanting a mantra, he caused dozens of paper men and paper horses to leap from the wooden case on his back. Inscribed with vermilion talismans and divine seals, they brandished tiny talismanic weapons and charged toward the wolf demons with shrill battle cries. He then scattered a handful of talisman beans, which transformed into small figurines upon hitting the ground, screening the talisman soldiers as they advanced.
These paper men, paper horses, and the art of scattering beans into soldiers were, like Qian Chen's earlier Yellow Turban Strongmen, Dao soldiers of the Daoist orthodoxy.
However, Qian Chen's Yellow Turban Strongmen could only perform heavy labor. Lacking a guiding spirit sense, they lacked adaptability in battle; against mortal armies they might put up a fight, but against cultivators or demonic packs, they were entirely useless.
Only by using talisman scripts as bodies and divine writs to invoke the spirit senses of celestial soldiers from Xuantian Palace to possess them, as Zhiqiu did, could these paper men and horses become true Dao soldiers.
Many of the celestial soldiers and generals under the heavenly sovereign were not exceedingly high in cultivation; they were pious mortals selected from the finest warriors of the mundane world and elevated into celestial ranks. While many cultivators found themselves helpless when deprived of high magical power, these soldiers could thrust a mere toothpick straight into an enemy's eye—they were born combatants.
As a deity responsible for subduing the infinite fiends and abominations across the myriad realms, the Nine Underworlds, and the Sea of Blood, the True Martial Great Emperor commanded countless such celestial soldiers. Disciples of True Martial like Zhiqiu, or other Daoists seeking to exorcise evil, needed only to write divine talismans to summon the soldiers and generals of Xuantian Palace, scattering beans into soldiers and cutting paper into champions to unleash destructive power dozens of times beyond their own magical reserves.
The tiny paper soldiers roared with shrill cries that sounded almost cute, yet as one leaped forward, the toy-like paper spear in its hands thrust out like a toothpick, instantly piercing the chest of a demon wolf ahead. The blow lifted the beast—hundreds of times larger than the paper figure—and pinned it firmly to the ground.
Operating in groups of three to five, a single strike from these dozens of paper soldiers was often enough to slay a demon wolf outright.
The thousands of bean soldiers summoned by scattering beans possessed strength only slightly greater than ordinary humans, yet they fought desperately to screen the paper soldiers, making it impossible for the wolves to pinpoint where the paper figures were hidden.
Amidst the churning baleful qi, dozens of paper soldiers and horses worked in concert with thousands of bean soldiers, inflicting grievous casualties upon the wolf pack.
Chapter 82