The others hastily retreated, but one Mount Rong disciple stepped forward holding a precious vase in his hands. Dipping a willow sprig into it, he flicked the water forward.
His motion was slight and the willow leaves were sparse, yet the droplets flicked into the air rapidly split, scattering into hundreds and thousands like a fine mist.
A pale-golden mist.
Another disciple formed a hand seal and summoned wind, blowing this patch of water mist straight toward the swarm of bizarre cicadas.
Each of these bizarre cicadas was three feet long, and they could not avoid being sprayed head to face by the water mist.
This sequence of moves was executed with fluid grace; clearly, the Mount Rong disciples were well-practiced in it.
Then, the most bizarre scene unfolded:
Every bizarre cicada touched by the pale-golden droplets—whether flying or leaping—crashed to the earth, unable to rise.
They struggled desperately on the ground, but it was as if an immobilization art had been cast upon them; try as they might, they could not lift their legs or prop up their bodies.
He Lingchuan raised his eyebrows at the sight.
*Everyone truly has their own tricks.*
The cold youth shouted, "Quick, kill them!"
Gripping their weapons, the crowd rushed forward, unleashing a barrage of attacks on the temporarily helpless cicadas.
The youth's vision had mostly recovered. Looking toward He Lingchuan, he offered a reminder: "Heavy weapons work better."
As he hoisted his bronze staff to jab at the cicadas, he aimed straight for their eyes, each thrust popping one with a squirt of fluid.
Injured as he was, he had to take a breather after slaying just a few.
A glance at the other Mount Rong disciples showed that they, too, wielded bludgeoning weapons like great hammers and heavy axes. Clearly, they were well-experienced, knowing that blunt impact was far more effective than piercing.
A few also sprayed medicinal liquid onto the bizarre cicadas, dissolving and corroding them to death in a few sizzling hisses.
In truth, fire worked best of all.
These things feared fire; after just a few burns, they would start smoking and giving off a charred stench.
He Lingchuan stabbed two of them with Fusheng and found their carapaces astonishingly hard. Ordinary blades hacking into them would not even leave a scratch. One could only imagine how utterly hopeless ordinary mortals in the towns and villages must have felt when overrun by such monstrosities.
The cold youth stared at Fusheng and praised, "Fine blade."
Then, he handed He Lingchuan a dark, muddy pill. "Antidote."
This man had been stung by the shadow on him earlier, and he knew full well just how venomous that thing was.
Having been defeated by He Lingchuan, his attitude toward the man had actually improved considerably.
The strong deserved respect.
He Lingchuan accepted the pill but did not consume it, merely nodding to him.
Seeing this, the youth did not insist. Once the poison flared up, this man would naturally learn how potent it was. Anyone who was stung and failed to pull off their boot quickly would soon have a foot swollen like a ball, leaving them no choice but to cut the boot open.
Yet after a good while, He Lingchuan continued walking around as if nothing had happened, showing no sign of clutching his foot, collapsing, and wailing in agony.
Little did the youth know that He Lingchuan had already used the venom gland gifted by Zhu Erniang to draw the toxin from the wound.
Zhu Erniang's venom gland could either coat weapons with poison or extract venom to save lives—a wondrous treasure with dual uses.
Dong Rui, however, called out, "Save me two specimens! Two different ones!"
Whenever he laid eyes on a new novelty, an itch flared up that he could barely endure.
Zhu Daniang glanced at him, then spat out two streams of spiderweb, wrapping two bizarre cicadas into tight parcels like zongzi.
Grabbing a third for herself, she ignored its protests and plunged her mouthparts inside, forcefully sucking it dry.
The bizarre cicada shrieked in agony.
This sight of insect devouring insect made the Mount Rong disciples' scalps prickle with dread. Only now did they realize the spider demon had shown mercy earlier; otherwise, their companions would have long been reduced to dried husks.
In no time at all, Zhu Daniang sucked the bizarre cicada completely dry, but after smacking her mouth to taste it, she spat all the juices right back out:
"Disgusting! What kind of wretched thing is this?!"
Where was the savory delicacy expected of a cicada?
The onlookers: "..."
Zhu Daniang wiped her eyes with a claw and suddenly remarked, "More seventy-year cicadas are hatching. They probably heard their kin screaming."
He Lingchuan immediately said to the cold youth, "Set fire to it. The farmland all around here is packed with cicada eggs beneath the soil."
Relying solely on manpower, how long would it take to clear them nest by nest?
There was no time to lose, and the youth did not hesitate either. He directed his companions to set fires everywhere while other Mount Rong disciples came forward to stop his bleeding and dress his wounds.
The weather was dry and the woods had already withered dead, long bereft of moisture; the slightest spark ignited them.
The crowd then summoned strong winds, driving the blaze toward the farmland.
Town, farmland, and woods—all burned clean in a single blaze!
The two to three hundred murdered townsfolk were cremated alongside them.
Through the inferno, He Lingchuan watched countless bizarre cicadas leap out from the fields, fleeing in frantic disarray under the press of the flames.
The Mount Rong disciples stood guard around the perimeter, picking off any stragglers that slipped through.
He Lingchuan and Dong Rui lent a hand as well.
All this bustling took two whole shichen, and the sky had long since turned pitch-black.
Only when the fire died down did the cold youth come find He Lingchuan. "Let's go meet Elder Dao."
After fighting side by side for so long, the group's hostility toward He Lingchuan and his companions had vanished.
Hearing this, Dong Rui let out a sigh of relief. Finally, they could get down to proper business.
Yet the youth walked over to his side, reached out, and stroked the ghost ape.
Dong Rui knew the ghost ape had a foul temper; aside from its beloved master, anyone else who drew near would receive a slap to the face.
Yet the ghost ape thoroughly enjoyed the youth's petting, even craning its head forward and half-closing its eyes.
Truly bizarre.
He Lingchuan asked him, "Who brought the ghost ape back?"
The cold youth replied, "I did."
Another Mount Rong disciple added, "Senior Martial Brother Qiu isn't close to anyone, but he gets along surprisingly well with this monkey."
"Where did you bring it back from?"
"When patrolling the northeastern border."
Dong Rui chimed in, "Why was that water mist earlier able to immobilize the bizarre cicadas?"
"Heavy water. Every single droplet is as heavy as a thousand jun," the youth answered openly, holding nothing back. "It's heavy water from the Thousand-Jun Vase."
*So that precious vase is called the 'Thousand-Jun Vase.' A fitting name indeed.*
Why, then, hadn't the Mount Rong disciples used heavy water against them earlier?
Having traveled with Dong Rui for more than two months, He Lingchuan already knew his temper inside out. Seeing his expression, He Lingchuan knew what he was wondering and immediately explained, "We all have protective astral qi. The water mist couldn't touch our bodies."
If it couldn't reach their bodies, it naturally had no effect.
Dong Rui let out a long "Ohhh," finally understanding.
...
The deeper they ventured into Mount Rong, the fewer dead trees lined the road. Squirrels began leaping among the branches, and night owls hooted softly.
Hares slept inside hollow trees, while bugs and ants crawled beneath ice and snow. Zhu Daniang could once again feel the vibrant vitality of the entire forest.
Evidently, the seventy-year cicadas had not invaded this place.
On the way, the other Mount Rong disciples had already told the trio that these bizarre cicadas had abruptly invaded Mount Rong's territory over two months ago. From the moment they arrived, they blotted out the sky and ground, devouring everything—vegetation, animals, and humans alike.
The mortal towns and villages within Mount Rong's territory had suffered immensely from this scourge, plagued by unspeakable misery. Mount Rong had put great effort into exterminating these creatures, yet had never been able to eradicate them completely.
The stern youth's surname was Qiu, with the single given name Hu.
He walked at the front while the others followed behind, intentionally or unintentionally keeping some distance from him.
Yet He Lingchuan saw that the others communicated with him normally; it wasn't as though they were on bad terms.
One could only say that others subconsciously felt a wary fear toward him, reluctant to draw too close.
The murderous aura and baleful aura on this fellow were far too heavy. He Lingchuan had only ever felt such dense baleful aura from Fu Shanyue.
Could he be another ba?
Or perhaps some other bizarre demonic breed?
Chapter 748