Martial Dao: Peace by Force

Chapter 333: Chapter 188: Qi Refiners? Nothing Special

”Old Wan, do you understand the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams? No need to speak, just nod or shake your head.”

Feng Jiuchen’s voice suddenly appeared in Wan Ze’s mind, as clear as if he were whispering right in his ear.

Wan Ze’s heart stirred, and he gave a slight nod.

Feng Jiuchen seemed to sigh in relief and continued his mental transmission, his words coming much faster than before. ”These two bastards are strong. You follow the coordinates I give you. I’ll use Talismanic Magic to help you get away first.”

Wan Ze looked over in surprise.

His gaze fell on Feng Jiuchen’s face.

Then he glanced at the two figures on the distant cliff.

If he wanted to leave, he could just sever his Spiritual Form.

His consciousness would withdraw from Huangliang and return to reality. He would open his eyes in his own room. It was that simple. He didn’t need anyone’s help.

’But if Feng Jiuchen is left here alone, what if he’s no match for them?’

’His only friend in this world would be gone.’

Wan Ze didn’t know many people in Huangliang.

The Female Sword Immortal was one, but she was a senior, an existence one could only look up to from afar.

Feng Jiuchen was different. He was his partner.

The kind of friend who would patiently explain things when you knew nothing.

People like that were hard to find in the real world, let alone in Huangliang.

But Wan Ze’s current situation was also unique.

His Taiyin Breathing Technique had already reached the Intermediate level, and the amount of Qi in his body was not insignificant. In Feng Jiuchen’s eyes, however, he was just a Loose Cultivator who had recently entered Huangliang, one who had yet to step into the First Realm of a Qi Refiner. He had a patchy understanding of Huangliang’s rules and knew even less about the methods of Qi Refiners.

There were many possible reasons for this discrepancy, but Wan Ze had no time to ponder them now.

None of that mattered.

What mattered was that he could kill.

And on that point, Wan Ze had never once doubted himself.

......

”I heard the Cloud Treasure Talisman once fell into the hands of a Demon Cultivator. I wonder, which of the Seven Palaces of the Demon Capital do you hail from, friend?”

On the cliff’s edge, the tall, heavyset man spoke again. A smirk that wasn’t quite a smile played on his lips, giving him the calm air of a cat toying with a mouse.

While mentally communicating with Wan Ze, Feng Jiuchen bowed to the two on the cliff, his hands clasped. He was neither disrespectful nor servile, appearing anything but a novice. ”You two friends must be mistaken. This is not the Cloud Treasure Talisman. It’s merely a copy my master fashioned after the original—all form and no substance. It’s nothing special, nothing special at all.”

His tone was sincere, as if he were genuinely clearing up a misunderstanding.

But to his surprise, the heavyset man let out a harsh, grating sneer. ”The Cloud Treasure Talisman. A hundred years ago, it fell into the hands of an Elder from my Li Huo Sect. I have seen the diagrams myself; I would not be mistaken. Since you are a disciple of the Demon Sect, friend, why be so secretive? Such timid behavior hardly seems the way of the Demon Sect.”

The man paused, his gaze growing sharper. ”Since you are a disciple of the Demon Sect, why hide what you are? Such timid actions are not the way of the Demon Sect.”

The short, skinny man beside him spoke up in a low voice, pointing a finger at Wan Ze and Feng Jiuchen. ”Demon Cultivators slaughter people like flies and stop at no evil. If we don’t execute you here today, there’s no telling how many more innocent lives will be lost at your hands. Huangliang may be vast enough for Deceitful Beasts and Tombs, but it will not tolerate the rampage of Demon Cultivators.”

Feng Jiuchen’s heart sank, but the smile on his face remained. He spread his hands. ”My friends, I’ve said all I can, but if you refuse to believe me, then there’s nothing I can do. How about this? We each take a step back, go our separate ways, and pretend we never saw each other—”

”Cut the crap!” the short, skinny man snapped, cutting him off.

Feng Jiuchen sighed, but a coldness had already settled in his eyes.

At the same time, he sent an urgent mental message to Wan Ze: ”These two old bastards have already decided to kill us and take our things. It doesn’t matter if this talisman of mine is real or a fake; they’re determined to get their hands on it for a look. And after they look, real or not, we’re both dead. I can handle myself, but I can’t spare the effort to protect you. Go now! Three steps forward in the Kun direction... Remember, Kun, three steps forward!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Wan Ze turned and ran.

One step.

Two steps.

As his third step landed, a Talisman materialized from thin air on the ground.

The Talisman was no bigger than a palm. It glowed a faint gold, hovering an inch above the ground and rotating slowly.

At the Talisman’s center was a complex, layered pattern, with each layer flowing in a different direction.

The instant Wan Ze’s foot touched the Talisman, his body felt as if it were being held up by a giant, invisible hand that lifted him completely off the ground.

And then...

”SWISH!”

The pattern spread out like a spiderweb. With a flash of talismanic light, Wan Ze’s figure vanished, reappearing a hundred paces away.

”Trying to escape? How laughable!”

Seeing this, the short, skinny man roared, his eyes glinting with killing intent. ”Letting you Demon Cultivators escape would be a scourge upon the world! Senior Brother, I’ll go kill him!”

Before his words had even faded, his figure flashed. He leaped from the cliff, his robes fluttering and snapping in the wind with a FLAP FLAP sound. His speed was astonishing, leaving a trail of afterimages in his wake.

In the space of a few breaths, he had already closed the distance to less than fifty meters behind Wan Ze.

A sharp Sword Intent erupted from his body, so condensed it seemed tangible, like a drawn sword, its edge exposed for all to see.

”A Sword Cultivator!” Feng Jiuchen’s heart sank.

Sword Cultivators were a special group in Huangliang. They didn’t practice Talismanic Magic, they didn’t study Arrays, and they didn’t concoct Elixir Pills; they cultivated only their sword. All their energy, all their resources, and all their time were poured into that one blade. Consequently, a Sword Cultivator’s Cultivation might not be the highest, but their destructive power was certainly the strongest. Among Qi Refiners of the same Realm, the attack power of a Sword Cultivator was always considered top-tier.