Once Gu Mingde gave the order, everyone sprang into motion. They did not swarm out all at once; instead, one team moved first, and only after advancing a certain distance did the next follow, each group providing cover for the other.
After advancing a stretch, the lead group paused briefly to scout before pressing on. At each stop, they planted a prominent marker—especially at turns—to facilitate an eventual retreat and allow those behind to keep up.
Chen Chuan's team was the last to move out. However, the advance ahead went swiftly, and by the time his group got moving, the team ahead had initially proceeded with great caution, only to discover in surprise that the area near the stockade gate was completely deserted. The people in the stronghold hadn't set up the slightest defense.
Once inside, they found a large crowd of villagers gathered in the open space before the old temple, prostrating themselves with their backs turned toward the entrance. In their midst was a figure resembling a shaman who kowtowed while spreading his arms and letting out a drawn-out, eerie chant. Even stranger, the drumming sounds turned out to be made by people slamming their heads against leather drums. The entire scene was both grotesque and bizarre.
Yet it was precisely this fanatic frenzy that left them completely oblivious to the infiltrators.
Many commissioners felt their spirits lift, inwardly praising Chen Chuan's judgment. Coming up at this exact moment truly was the ideal time; it made their operation vastly easier.
Exchanging nods, they spread out slowly to find suitable positions. When the group behind them arrived, bringing their numbers to more than twenty, they raised their crossbows and opened fire on the crowd.
Judging from the Flying Head Cult strongholds breached previously, these people had been corrupted by the flying head creatures for so long that there was no hope of saving them. Furthermore, they would madly attack anyone they saw outside of their cult, so the team had to strike ruthlessly.
As those in the rear collapsed under bolts one after another, the people in front finally noticed something was wrong. They spun around, glaring toward the back with bloodshot eyes, and charged forward with frenzied roars.
Yet it was futile. As more commissioners entered, they fanned out to both flanks, advancing in an arc. By now, they no longer cared about the noise and drew their pistols one by one to open fire.
Behind them, others stood ready with rifles raised and throwing nets in hand, positioned to guard against any flying heads that might appear at any moment. For a time, gunfire crackled and roared throughout the stockade.
Yet even after every cultist in sight had been brought down, not a single flying head appeared. The commissioners immediately moved up to deliver finishing shots. Afterward, two men approached the entrance of the old temple to peer inside. But just as they did, both abruptly froze and collapsed to the ground.
Their teammates behind them were startled and about to rush forward, but someone grabbed them from behind, whispering urgently, "Don't go up there!"
Moments later, those behind watched in horror as the two teammates climbed back to their feet. Their eyes had turned completely bloodshot just like the villagers', and they drew daggers from their waists, lunging forward with stabs.
Fortunately, their attacks lacked any technique or coordination, and the others quickly subdued them. Even so, the pair struggled incessantly, screaming and bellowing madly.
Seeing this, everyone's expressions changed slightly. Even knowing the situation was not yet dire, none of them wanted to end up like that.
One team leader spoke up. "Let's fall back and wait for Expert Chen to handle it." Agreeing wholeheartedly, the crowd retreated a wide distance.
By this time, Chen Chuan had entered the stockade alongside Gu Mingde's team. Seeing that his men had breached the perimeter so easily without even needing the smoke grenades they had prepared, Gu Mingde was quite surprised. "Not a single guard was left at the gate?"
Chen Chuan thought to himself that this was only natural. How could an urban legend that easily stripped people of their sanity follow normal logic? If loyalty wasn't absolute, it was absolute disloyalty; anyone who dared not kowtow during the ritual had likely been fed to the flying heads long ago.
He surveyed the surroundings. The fallen numbered around seventy to eighty, nearly all able-bodied men. Not a single woman, child, or elder was in sight. For a mountain village, this was highly abnormal. Remembering the flying heads that had flown out earlier, he shook his head.
Just then, a commissioner hurried over from the front and reported the situation ahead to Gu Mingde.
Gu Mingde looked grave. He turned to Chen Chuan. "Expert Chen, what do you think?"
Chen Chuan said, "Leave what comes next to me. However, there are likely quite a few flying head creatures inside. If they break out and scatter, I might not be able to intercept them all. Captain Gu, you and your men must be careful."
Gu Mingde replied, "As long as our weapons can harm them, we can handle them."
Chen Chuan nodded in agreement. Facing ordinary flying heads was not difficult as long as one maintained their sanity. "By the way, Captain Gu, please lend me a few more guns."
Without hesitation, Gu Mingde handed over his unfired pistol, then reached a hand back. His assistant, Pan Zhong, and a commissioner from behind stepped forward, handing over their pistols. Gu Mingde turned them muzzle-down and passed them to Chen Chuan.
Chen Chuan accepted them and tucked them all into the waist strap beneath his duster. Just as he was about to head inside, Gu Mingde called out to stop him, taking a blister pack from inside his coat and handing it over. "Expert Chen, take this as well."
Chen Chuan looked at it. It was a blister pack of Heart-Calming Pills, a medication formulated based on the recommendations of previous Municipal Administration consultants. Holding one under the tongue effectively stabilized one's mind, and swallowing it in an emergency helped maintain mental clarity.
It wasn't useless—against one or two flying heads, it actually worked quite well, as proven before. But against a swarm or the source itself, its efficacy would likely be limited. Even so, he took it and said, "Thank you."
Gu Mingde said solemnly, "Expert Chen, be careful. If something goes wrong, please pull back, and we will figure out another plan."
Chen Chuan nodded and said, "Dealing with the flying head creatures may take more than a day. Before each ritual is required, I might come out to retrieve offerings. Please make sure they are prepared."
Gu Mingde had already heard him outline the necessary conditions earlier, so he said gravely, "Expert Chen, we will certainly have them ready."
Chen Chuan drew the Xuejun Saber from its sheath and walked toward the entrance of the old temple. As he approached, he took out the piece of yellow jade Cheng Zitong had given him and inspected it. Seeing that certain spots along the edges had turned slightly black, it seemed the item truly had absorbed a portion of the harm.
He tucked it away again and walked inside.
Gu Mingde and the others watched his figure gradually vanish into the shadows, their expressions solemn. The source of the flying heads could not be brought down by sheer numbers; this could only be resolved by an expert.
Once inside, Chen Chuan saw a narrow corridor hewn into the mountain rock. Beneath his feet lay cracked stone flags, and lamp brackets were mounted along both walls.
After walking seven or eight meters, he saw about six people lined up in two columns, shoulders touching, prostrated on the floor and repeatedly kowtowing toward the interior. They muttered incomprehensible words, seemingly completely unaware of what had occurred outside.
Yet Chen Chuan's entrance seemed to trigger something. They sprang up from the ground one after another, releasing furious roars and garbled curses.
Watching them charge at him, Chen Chuan simply held his saber horizontally across his front, blocking the entire passage, and shoved them backward.
They scrambled to push forward, but their efforts had no unity, and those in the front had too short a reach to touch Chen Chuan at all. He single-handedly pushed them back, sending them stumbling rearward.
After three or four meters, they entered the main hall of the old temple. Chen Chuan exerted his jin slightly, sending a burst of force outward. The men immediately flew backward in a fan shape, crashing to the ground unable to rise. Though appearing unharmed on the surface, their internal organs, muscles, and bones had suffered damage, completely stripping them of any fighting capability.
Looking up, Chen Chuan saw a cavernous domed hall, evidently carved and modified from a natural cave. Holes riddled the structure everywhere now, and foul-smelling puddles pooled on the floor.
High above, several large openings let in daylight; that was likely where the flying head creatures flew in and out.
Straight ahead, where a divine idol ought to have stood, a massive gauze curtain hung from the ceiling. A blurry shadow seemed to dwell within. The earlier swarm of flying heads had gathered here, with one or two flitting about the hall.
On the altar in front, piles of pork, mutton, and suspected human limbs lay heaped together. Multiple flying heads crowded together, gnawing hungrily and jostling one another. Bloody, half-severed visceral tissues hung dripping from the altar's edges.
Seeing this, a cold gleam entered his eyes. He immediately drew his Wuji pistol and opened fire on the heads, sending them screeching and scattering in panic.
He emptied the magazine in a single breath, then drew the pistols Gu Mingde and the others had given him. Firing in rapid succession until all four handguns were empty, six flying heads crashed to the ground one after another.
Seeing the gunfire cease, the remaining flying heads swarmed toward him in unison.
Chen Chuan drew a deep breath and tossed aside the empty pistol. Just as the heads reached him, threatening to engulf his figure, a brilliant blade light flared abruptly, followed by a succession of sounds like dried hide and bone being hacked apart!
When the gleam faded, he remained in an upward slashing stance, while the flying heads that had swarmed him littered the floor. One of them seemed startled and turned to flee, but before it could get far, it suddenly tilted, crashed to the floor, and split in two, held together only by a shred of bone and dried skin at the crown.
Chen Chuan noticed that two flying heads seemed to have escaped outside earlier, but they were just ordinary ones and few in number; Gu Mingde and his men should be able to handle them.
He cast a glance at the gauze curtain ahead, reloaded the Wuji pistol with a fresh magazine, and stepped forward with saber in hand.
Outside, the commissioners remained on high alert. Hearing bizarre screeches echoing from inside, they knew flying head creatures might be breaking out.
Dozens of guns and bows of all sizes were aimed at the temple's entrance. Moments later, two black spots shot out from within. Without needing an order, gunfire erupted in a deafening barrage. Alongside handguns, several shotguns fired simultaneously, leaving the two charging heads no room to dodge. Almost the second they burst outside, they were blasted to pieces, the adjacent walls pitted with cratered holes. By the time the remains hit the ground, they were unrecognizable.
Gu Mingde glanced at the carnage. Flying heads fleeing from within was good news; it meant Chen Chuan's progress was going smoothly.
Inside the old temple, Chen Chuan had stepped slowly up to the curtain. Hearing a faint sound of chewing, he gently extended his saber to push the drapery aside. The flying head within abruptly stopped chewing and turned to look back at him.
Once he saw it clearly, his eyes narrowed slightly.
The flying heads he had seen earlier were all hideous, obvious monsters at a glance. Yet this flying head had the face of a charming woman—brows painted like fine makeup, a dab of crimson lips, and shimmering eyes. A waterfall of black hair spread across the altar. Seeing him arrive, her limpid, autumn-water eyes cast a sidelong glance in his direction.
Chapter 116