The Blade-Wielding Legend

"Take action!"

Before Li Yan’s voice had even faded, Sha Lifei’s flintlock short gun had already fired.

Against these Japanese, they held back nothing.

Bang!

Under the dim light of the dilapidated temple, the firelight burst forth, as the lead bullet ripped through the air, precisely hitting the knee of the strong man carrying the divine statue.

Amid the cries of agony, the divine sedan crashed to the ground.

The clay figure of the "Blood River Great Bright God" fell to the ground, immediately splitting into several cracks.

A clotted, corpse-scented black-red foul aura gushed out.

"Ah~"

The Old Witch let out a piercing scream, a trace of terror and malice flashing through her cloudy eyes.

Her claw-like hand suddenly grabbed at the bulging beast pelt bag at her waist, while she uttered a sharp, inhuman curse.

However, Kong Shangzhao’s sword was faster.

A flash of cold light precisely severed the leather string that held the bag, while his other hand formed a blade with his fingers, slicing fiercely below the Old Witch’s throat.

In the group, Kong Shangzhao could be regarded as merely a scholar.

But he came from Mingde Martial Arts Academy, and was a pupil-grandson of Lu Hongyuan, one of the Ten Grandmasters of Divine State, so naturally his skills were not trivial.

Two-story Taoist, Vast Righteous Qi working with Swordsmanship, ordinary Evil Cultivators were no match.

The Old Witch croaked twice, filthy blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, falling backward.

The beast pelt bag was also pried open by Kong Shangzhao using the sword tip.

Roll roll roll!

A few black items, seemingly children’s finger bones, rolled out.

Wang Daoxuan did not approach for close combat.

His left hand had long been clutching a coffin nail.

This item was a trophy from a previous battle with the Ghost Theater Troupe, specifically designed to counter evil, with significant power.

At the moment the Old Witch fell, he flicked it forward.

Bang!

The coffin nail directly pierced into the cracked divine statue.

"The natural world, foul aura disperses—subdue!"

With Wang Daoxuan’s low murmur, the surrounding black-red foul aura emitted a burning "chi-chi" sound.

The foul aura writhed and struggled like a living creature, faintly screaming.

As for Li Yan, Wu Ba, Lv San, and others, they did not take action at all.

Long Yan’er waved her hand, and the Gu Worm poisoned a swathe.

Within merely a dozen breaths, other than the painful groans of those disciples inside and outside the dilapidated temple, there was no other sound.

Li Yan walked to the Old Witch’s corpse, using his sword’s sheath to poke at the beast pelt bag, then gazed at the pedestal revealed after the divine statue shattered.

The base was hollow, and apart from some hair and ashes inside, a few coarse pottery jars were scattered about, their mouths sealed with mud mixed with blood and filth.

Crack!

Without saying a word, Li Yan crushed them underfoot.

An odor more rotten and foul than before burst forth.

Inside the jar was a half-congealed dark red mush, with hints of fragmented bones and hair that had not completely dissolved.

Sha Lifei covered his mouth and nose, murmuring, "This foul thing smells like death!"

Li Yan forced himself to endure the discomfort, opening the second jar.

Inside were no longer flesh and blood mush, but several grayish-white bone fragments of varying sizes.

On them, twisted runes were drawn using some kind of dark red pigment.

The bones themselves didn’t resemble typical beast bones, but were more akin to human bones, treated specially to appear extraordinarily brittle.

Kong Shangzhao stepped forward, examining them and murmuring: "よもつよ,かすかなみ..."

Sha Lifei was speechless, "Scholar, what are you muttering?"

"Nothing." Kong Shangzhao gently shook his head, explaining, "These hold an incantation, inscribed with the words: ’Yellow Springs path opens, guiding spirits return, binding forms. Blood as the contract, bones serve as the medium...’"

After speaking, he looked at everyone, "Though I don’t know the origin of this incantation, ’Yellow Springs’ is said to be the path connecting this world to the Land of the Dead, likely a magic method that summons evil ghosts using flesh and blood as an altar."

"Previously at the Ranger Camp on Tsushima Island, I heard that Toyotomi Hideyoshi opened the gate to Yellow Springs Country, this must be what they were referring to."

Everyone felt a chill at these words.

Sha Lifei twitched at the corner of his eye, "These madmen, could they have been spreading the magic method everywhere?"

Li Yan gazed at the still somewhat dim sky in the distance, speaking coldly,

"It appears so. The Japanese are cold-blooded and deceitful, with a custom of worshipping ghosts. Having acquired this magic method, they undoubtedly revere it as law."

"Let’s go, try to save Night Crying Man first."

After cleaning the dilapidated temple and burning those remains in place, dawn was near.

Li Yan and the others didn’t linger, following the mountain path down into the nearest village.

The village was more desolate than imagined, its earthen walls and huts low and dilapidated, fields sparsely filled with crops, emanating a sense of death.

Seeing Li Yan and a few others, obviously outsiders and brandishing weapons, enter the village, the villagers reacted not with curiosity or caution, but a kind of numb fear, shutting their doors and windows, peeping through gaps with wary glances.

Li Yan motioned for Kong Shangzhao to step forward and inquire in the gentlest Japanese dialect possible.

At first, no one responded, until Kong Shangzhao offered some dry rations and expressed only wanting to find out if there was unrest nearby, when a bold old farmer trembled and opened half a door.

Asked about the "Blood River Great Bright God," the old farmer’s face showed even greater fear, yet mingled with unspeakable fervor and... resignation.

"Lords...that is the revered god that keeps the village from being swallowed by war and famine..."

The old farmer stammered, explaining how their village and nearby ones had struggled to survive for years.

Ronin looting, local lords imposing taxes, poor harvests, no money for medicine when sick.

"Later...later the temple priestess from across the mountain said that if we sincerely tribute to the Blood River Great Bright God, offering...’clean sacrifices,’ the deity would drive away evil ghosts, restore land fertility, and bring the men home alive from the battlefield..."

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