Sword of Coming

Lu Tai pointed at the courtyard door after listening to Chen Ping’an speak, and he said that after sticking the Treasure Pagoda Demon-suppressing Talisman there, the world beyond the door was the cultivation world while the world inside the door was the mountains.

Chen Ping’an wanted to drink wine after hearing this.

The Flying Eagle Fortress became very lively after this, breathing an air of life into the fortress. The Flying Eagle Fortress was clearly more calming now compared to its near deathly peaceful state before.

This was because two powerful people had arrived from the outside world. They weren’t gallant martial artists who traveled around the world, a type of people that the Flying Eagle Fortress was familiar with, nor were they renowned martial arts grandmasters. Instead, they were very mysterious cultivators who were even stranger than the already strange Administrator He. This was a very fresh experience for everyone.

The middle-aged man whom the fortress lord had warmly invited over walked through the streets and alleys of the Flying Eagle Fortress with his white horse. There were two large bundles of cypress and pine branches hanging from the sides of the saddle, and the man with the fly-whisk in his hand would grab and burn a branch each time he came to a stop with his horse.

However, he didn’t seem to need flint, with the branches combusting by themselves when he rubbed his fingers together. The branches released a fragrant smoke as they burned.

There were some white-haired elders who were slightly knowledgeable about old practices in the crowd of local residents watching this from a distance, and these elders started to show off their knowledge, claiming that this was called Courtyard Illumination, an incredible type of immortal technique that could exorcize evil and eliminate filth.

Pine trees were also called the Eighteenth Duke because they were the most senior type of trees. This was equivalent to being a country duke of the imperial court. Meanwhile, cypress trees were like nobles who were only one rank beneath pine trees. This was especially the case with those cypress trees from famous mountains. As a result, reciting immortal mantras while burning pine and cypress branches could summon divine power.

Elsewhere, the disheveled old man appeared far more basic compared to the tall and sturdy middle-aged man with a fly-whisk and a white horse. His appearance was inferior to his fellow cultivator, and his techniques also exuded a rustic aura. Thus, few local residents of the Flying Eagle Fortress rushed over to watch the old man.

It was said that this old man was Huang Shang’s master, and he was a Daoist priest who lived in the mountains and had become acquainted with the old fortress lord during their travels through the cultivation world. This time, the old man had only left the mountains and come to pray for blessings and eliminate calamity for the Flying Eagle Fortress because he had performed divination and discovered that the fortress was facing huge trouble.The disheveled old man wasn’t wearing a Daoist robe, and he didn’t know how to draw talismans and perform Daoist rituals using proper Daoist walking patterns either. Instead, he simply asked people to bring him seven or eight roosters, after which he hung them on the fortress gate, the doors of the ancestral hall, next to the wells, in the martial arts training grounds, and so on.

Afterward, he kept a keen eye on these roosters from morning until night. There was a small rice bag tied to his hip, one that was filled with glutinous rice. There was also a pot of water next to it. These were for the roosters, and the water wasn’t ordinary well water that the residents of the fortress drank every day. Rather, it was spring water that his disciple, Huang Shang, had retrieved from the depths of some mountain in the distance.

Chen Ping’an and Lu Tai split up. Lu Tai liked to watch that so-called esteemed immortal from Peace and Tranquility Mountain pretending to be mysterious, while Chen Ping’an headed elsewhere to observe the disheveled old man’s techniques. Laymen watched for fun, while cultivators watched to determine one’s skills.

Even though Chen Ping’an wasn’t sure about the origins of the old man’s techniques, he could tell that the yin energy and murderous aura had become slightly weaker after the disheveled old man finished hanging the roosters in the different locations.

This was like a faceoff between two armies. One side was avoiding the other’s attacks, and this was an exchange where neither side would suffer any casualties. The party harming the fortress was simply hiding in the dark and accumulating power.

Judging from the old man’s extremely anxious expression as he fed the roosters glutinous rice and water, it was clear that he had also noticed some clues. Thus, he wasn’t feeling relaxed at all.

As for the middle-aged man who was swaggering through the streets and alleys with his fly-whisk, his expression was calm and composed as if he could annihilate all evil beings with a quick snap of his fingers.

Huan Chang and Huan Shu were responsible for clearing the path for this middle-aged man.

Tao Xieyang coughed very frequently, and his face was also as pale as a sheet. He walked behind the old Daoist priest with Huang Shang.

Lu Tai didn’t reveal the cultivation bases of the two people, and he only said that the middle-aged man definitely wasn’t a Qi refiner from Parasol Leaf Continent’s Peace and Tranquility Mountain or whatnot. On the other hand, the disheveled old man was a legitimate Daoist priest from the mountains who studied Dao in seclusion and serenity, choosing to live in peace with the mountains and waters as his neighbors.

Peace and Tranquility Mountain was the most powerful sect in the central region of Parasol Leaf Continent. In fact, it was as strong if not stronger than Planchette Writing Sect. However, it was secluded to the level that it almost detested interaction with the outside world, so extremely few disciples of this sect ever left the mountains and traveled around the outside world.

This sect accepted and synthesized the knowledge and techniques of all branches of alchemy, and Lu Tai had heard of this sect even though he was from Middle Earth Divine Continent. It was just that Peace and Tranquility Mountain was nowhere near as renowned as Parasol Leaf Sect or Jade Tablet Sect.

Another two days passed by peacefully.

On this day, however, even the common residents living in the streets and alleys of the Flying Eagle Fortress noticed the strangeness of the sky.

At dawn when the sun should have risen from the east, there were instead layers of rolling black clouds blanketing the sky above the Flying Eagle Fortress. It was as if black clouds were a living being baring its fangs and brandishing its claws at the fortress below, exuding such immense pressure that everyone felt a heavy weight on their heart.

Administrator He Ya, also responsible for teaching the younger generation in the fortress, announced that there wouldn’t be class today. He told his students to make haste and return home. This caused the little children to cheer in joy. They returned home in pairs or groups, pointing at the black clouds and chattering as they did so.

Some children said the clouds looked like a centipede, while some children said the clouds looked like an ox. In the end, the appearance of a black cloud that looked like the face of a wicked woman petrified the children and caused them to immediately scatter and run home.

Chen Ping’an was practicing fist techniques in the small courtyard, and he noticed the peculiar phenomenon in the sky right from the very beginning. Lu Tai was sitting beside the stone table and forming hand seals, quietly performing divination with a calm and composed expression.

It was morning when the sun should have been hanging high and shining bright, yet the sky was so dark that the fortress was seemingly still in the depths of night. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to reach the Flying Eagle Fortress.

Chen Ping’an heard eerie laughter drifting back and forth along the small alley outside the courtyard again.

He stopped practicing fist techniques and ran over to open the courtyard door, turning around to look at the Demon-suppressing Talisman that was created from ordinary talisman paper. As the days passed, the talisman had also continued to lose its spiritual energy.

Right now, the talisman was already dim and lusterless, with the initially yellow talisman paper extremely wrinkled and losing much of its color like a New Year couplet that had been subject to the elements for more than half a year. There were also a few spots that had become ink-black. It was no wonder those ghosts and yin entities dared to reappear and provoke them again.

Lu Tai walked out with his hands inside his opposite sleeves. He stood beside Chen Ping’an and looked up at the deteriorating talisman, murmuring to himself, ”Far back in the ancient past, talismans drawn by those equivalent to seventh tier martial artists could only be regarded as talismans that had just captured a modicum of essence. Only talismans drawn by those equivalent to ninth tier martial artists could be considered genuine talismans. From this, one can imagine the immense might of talismans back at that time.

”Among them, the obscure and difficult-to-understand Master of Three Mountains and Nine Lords was regarded as the representation of talismanic orthodoxy. However, it’s a shame that future generations like us don’t even know what this actually means. Is this someone’s name, or is this someone’s title?”[1]

Chen Ping’an stood on tippy-toes and peeled the talisman from the door, placing it back inside his sleeve.

Loud noises instantly appeared in the surroundings, with wisps of mist also rising from the mud path of the small alley and rapidly permeating through the surroundings. Starting from feet height, the mist eventually rose to knee height before quickly rushing to waist height.

It was as if Chen Ping’an had opened the lid of a piping hot wok, causing wisps of curling vapor to immediately rush into the surroundings. However, the vapor from a wok would be hot and fragrant, while the mist in the small alley was sticky and cold. This mist also gave off a fishy and pungent smell.

Chen Ping’an turned around and looked over, and he saw that the mist fortunately didn’t rush into the courtyards of the common residents in a single burst. However, the various styles of door gods—martial sages, literary sages, and other gods—plastered on everyone’s courtyard doors immediately started to crackle softly, with their already measly spiritual energy vanishing into nothingness. These door gods were no longer able to protect the owners of the courtyards.

Once again, Chen Ping’an saw the adult and the child in white mourning clothes appear at the end of the small alley. The little child was still staring at Chen Ping’an, and there was blood continually trickling from his bright red eyes and flowing down his snow-white face.

However, the blood didn’t drip onto the ground, and it instead crawled around the little child’s face like numerous squirming worms. They entered and exited the child’s eyes, and it was as if they were treating his eyes as their nests.

The adult holding the little child’s hand surprisingly didn’t have any features on his face. It was as if a thick white cloth were covering his face and concealing his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Many other harrowing and filthy yin entities shuffled toward the small courtyard at the end of the alley. There was an expressionless old woman hunched over with her hands and feet on the ground, and she nimbly crawled across the courtyard walls and continually murmured to Chen Ping’an that she wanted to eat meat.

There were also many little children squatting in front of the courtyard walls with their hands wrapped around their legs and their heads resting on their knees. Sounds of intermittent weeping hissed out from between their teeth and drifted in the wind, as if they wanted to recount their tragic stories yet were too young to properly speak and tell their truths.

Chen Ping’an genuinely wasn’t afraid of these entities even though he had respected ghosts and gods since a young age.

Could one imagine a little child, four or five years old, running to the immortal tomb by himself whether it was sunny or raining? After starting to practice fist techniques, the little boy who had now become a youngster had then embarked on three long journeys, including this journey to Parasol Leaf Continent. During his journeys, just how many bizarre and wonderful things had he witnessed? That being the case, would he still be afraid of something like this?

Hence, Chen Ping’an was unfazed even when the adult and the little child slowly walked over and arrived outside the courtyard gate. In fact, he even strode forward and stood on the edge of the steps as if waiting for them to make the first move.

The little child with squirming blood on his face stared at Chen Ping’an the entire time. When he turned his head to lock gazes with Chen Ping’an, he asked, ”Your meat is very fragrant! Can I take a few bites? I only want half of your heart! Can I have it?”

The little child spoke very slowly, and also continued to shuffle forward as he spoke. When he said the word ”heart,” his back was already facing Chen Ping’an, and his head was already turned 180 degrees. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on Chen Ping’an, and he even stuck his pitch-black tongue out to lick the blood on his lips.

However, it was the old woman crawling along the courtyard walls who made a move first, bouncing off the walls and lunging at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an didn’t so much as glance at her as he strode forward and descended the steps. He then threw a casual punch before his boot even made contact with the muddy alley path, striking the old woman’s head and sending the yin entity flying back and crashing into the opposite wall, exploding into smithereens before she could even wail in anguish.

The yin entities in the small alley immediately exploded with wild ferocity upon seeing this, causing black smoke to churn and rush forward as they furiously lunged at Chen Ping’an. These yin entities were all formed from the resentful emotions of deceased people.

Chen Ping’an held his left hand inside his sleeve and behind his back, using only his right hand to fight against these beings.

His fist intent was extremely well controlled, only flowing through his right arm and only releasing enough power to defeat his opponents. His aura was also condensed and not radiating into the surroundings. As a result, he was able to obliterate a violently attacking yin entity with each punch that he threw.

To the Chen Ping’an of today, unleashing this amount of fist intent was the same as drawing just a single bucket of water from a deep well.

From the view of the yin entities, however, the young boy in white’s right arm looked much like a brilliant and blinding ray of sunshine cutting through the darkness.

Almost eighty percent of the furiously charging yin entities in the small alley were obliterated in just a few seconds.

At some unknown time, Lu Tai had walked over and sat down on the door threshold, his hands in his opposite sleeves and a smile on his face as he spectated.

The little child who said he wanted to eat Chen Ping’an’s heart broke free from the accompanying adult’s grip and arrived behind Chen Ping’an in a flash. He then slashed at Chen Ping’an’s back with his palm, attempting to dig out the young boy’s heart.

The little child’s palm strike was viciously quick, and he mistakenly thought that he was just about to succeed. However, it was at this moment that he started to howl in agony. As it turned out, it was as if he had thrust his hand into a furnace after his fingers came into contact with Chen Ping’an’s white robe. A large section of his arm instantly disintegrated like snow melting in the heat.

Chen Ping’an’s left hand remained unmoving behind his back. Keeping watch on the yin entity without facial features out of the corners of his eyes the entire time, Chen Ping’an then leaned back and crashed into the little child, causing Golden Sweet Wine to immediately melt the little child as if he were a candle.

The little child transformed into a wisp of extremely pure black smoke and was just about to shoot into the distance. However, Chen Ping’an quickly turned around and flicked his wrist, throwing a hook punch and crushing the head and tail of the wisp of smoke.

”Now you’re just bullying people,” Lu Tai said in amusement.

Chen Ping’an pursed his lips and replied, ”How are they people?”

1. When written in Chinese, the Master of Three Mountains and Nine Lords can be read as a name, i.e. Mr. Sanshan Jiuhou. ☜