The Blade-Wielding Legend

The order was simple: cooperate with the Rashan and the "Frost God" from the garrison to ambush the potentially arriving Great Xuan Army.

As for whether there are ambushes in the other two directions, they don’t know, only that the higher-ups say "every area has a response."

They are merely pawns executing orders; the real lethal move is the awakened Evil God within the Kuerka Guard Station.

"Tsushima Island...Transfer station...Pawn..." Li Yan chewed over this information, a growing sense of unease within him.

The Jianmu Organization was like a giant shadow network, extending its influence into unexpected corners.

The night was deep, and while the wind and snow seemed to lessen, the cold grew more intense.

In the direction of the Kuerka Guard Station, the area bound by the Five Dao General’s Divine Power remained silent, with the gray-blue ice crust reflecting a ghostly light in the desolate moonlight.

Li Yan chose a snow-covered area backed by a half-ruined stone wall, clearing out a space. Wang Daoxuan and Kong Shangzhao assisted by his side.

He took out pre-prepared items from his pack:

A black cloth with intricate Fengdu talismans laid on the snow as the base of the magic platform; three bronze oil lamps, whose oil was a special mix of vermillion, realgar, and incense Exorcism Oil; a stack of cut Yellow Paper; and a talisman pen dipped in vermillion.

And most importantly—

The Black Pottery Jar sealed with the Evil God’s origin aura.

The magic platform was arranged simply yet solemnly, filled with the aura of Yin Law.

The three oil lamps were lit in a triangular formation, the flickering flames the only source of light in this snowy night, highlighting Li Yan’s face, calm as still water.

"Commence the platform!"

Li Yan called out, his voice drifting in the wind and snow.

He stepped the Astral Step, his figure moving and turning in the limited space, each step secretly aligning with the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams.

His talisman pen, dipped in vermillion, danced like dragons and snakes, rapidly sketching twisted yet powerful Fengdu Secret Talismans on the Yellow Paper.

He had officially stepped into the Fifth Floor within the Divine Sense Space, along with "Dare to Connect with the Celestial Palace," a total of six palace levels, including the surrounding Outer Altar Eight Generals Divine Palace, no longer needing to summon Outer Altar troops for suppression, unlike other Daoists when casting spells.

Meanwhile, he muttered incantations, his voice deep and rhythmic:

"North Yin Fengdu, ancestor of all gods. Summon the ghosts; none are unlit by your flame. I invoke the decree, bind your soul’s trace. Quickly reveal your true form, uncover the source line!"

"Urgent like the law!"

Amidst the spell’s echo, he pasted one talisman after another onto the talisman paper sealing the Black Pottery Jar.

Each time he applied one, the jar would tremble slightly as if the entity inside was struggling desperately.

From the seams of the jar, streams of icy, bone-piercing black air leaked out uncontrollably, yet they were fiercely suppressed by the firelight from the three oil lamps on the platform, emitting sizzling sounds of burning.

When the final main talisman was adhered to the top of the jar, Li Yan pointed his fingers like a sword, gathering a dot of pure Thunder Astral at his fingertips, fiercely striking the center of the talisman!

"Open!"

Buzz—!

The Black Pottery Jar shook violently, the sealing talisman paper spontaneously combusting into ashes.

A will far more concentrated than before, carrying an ancient and Barbaric aura, like a flood breaking through, surged wildly out from the jar!

However, this wild will could not rampage unchecked.

On the platform, the flames of the three oil lamps soared three feet high, turning a ghostly blue, weaving into an invisible net of fire, securely trapping that will within the domain of the platform.

Li Yan slightly closed his eyes, a glimmer of spiritual light appearing at his Forehead, his powerful spiritual power like a probe, directly piercing into this chaotic, icy, and primitively Wildness will’s core.

There was no language, no logic, only a chaotic and violent spiritual sea. Filled with frozen wildernesses, roaring beasts, rampant plagues, and the cycle of life’s struggle and destruction amidst harsh cold.

This was an elf born of the wilds, a "Evil God" discarded by time, whose "thought" was the most primitive of survival of the fittest, a cycle of life and extinction, persisting through the fear that harsh cold inspired.

Li Yan’s spiritual power was like a lone boat in an angry sea, enduring the onslaught of violent intent. He strained against the piercing pain of his Divine Soul and the cold, striving to find traces of manipulation within.

Suddenly, deep in that chaotic violent spiritual sea, he sensed an extremely discordant "foreign object."

It was a mark, left by a powerful will.

Li Yan’s spiritual power sharply focused on it.

Boom!

A distorted and eerie image instantly imprinted itself in his mind:

It was a swamp covered in dense fog, muddy and treacherous.

In the center of the swamp stood an "architectural" marvel not explainable by common sense. Its lower section was formed by two enormous, dried, and mud-covered... chicken legs!

These chicken legs were deeply embedded in the swamp’s mud, supporting the entire structure. And atop these gigantic chicken legs, a crooked, bizarre wooden hut, roughly pieced together using logs and animal hides, was perched!

The windows of the hut resembled the eyes of a beast, dark and foreboding, emanating a heart-pounding malice.

On the roof hung dried beast bones, bizarre feathers, and some twisted straw men. A pungent smell, mixed with rotten herbs, blood, and the rank odor of animals, seemed to penetrate Li Yan’s nostrils directly through this spiritual image.

Behind this dark, hollow window of the chicken-legged hut, Li Yan "felt" a cold, spiteful gaze filled with a desire to control, staring coldly at him.

It was precisely the owner of this gaze who, through a mysterious Shaman evil technique, controlled this Frost Evil Spirit from the Barbaric lands.

The image flickered and vanished.

Li Yan let out a muffled hum, his eyes bursting open, his forehead covered in cold sweat, as if his mind was gouged by an ice pick.

Yet the bizarre image of the chicken-legged hut and that cold, spiteful gaze remained as clear as a branding in the depths of his consciousness.

On the magic platform, the flames of the three oil lamps returned to a dim yellow.

The icy will erupting from the Black Pottery Jar seemed stripped of its backbone, becoming listless and recoiling back into the jar, leaving only slight traces of cold air lingering.

"How is it?" Wang Daoxuan asked urgently, he and Kong Shangzhao had both noticed Li Yan’s instant pallor.

Li Yan slowly exhaled a breath that carried icy shards, his voice low and heavy, speaking word by word:

"Found it!"

......

The campfire crackled, casting a light on the captive Bavier’s pale face.

Li Yan and the others naturally did not understand these Outer Realm demons and could only seek to question the captive. Unexpectedly, he truly knew.

The Rakshasa Officer’s pupils contracted, as if seized by invisible terror, squeezing out a few broken syllables from his throat:

"It’s... Baba Yaga!"

Li Yan, Wang Daoxuan, and the others exchanged a grave glance.

To them, the name was entirely unfamiliar, a demon from the distant Northern Land legends. Sha Lifei poked Bavier with the handle of his blade: "Explain! What Baba Yaga?"

Bavier trembled all over, his voice filled with uncontrollable fear: "She... she dwells deep in the forest, in a wooden hut that walks on chicken legs and can rotate! Flies with a giant stone mortar, using a pestle as an oar..."

"Catches wandering children and chews them to pieces with iron teeth and bronze jaws! She is a nightmare, the oldest terror upon the frozen soil!"

He rambled incoherently, describing how Baba Yaga could summon blizzards, brew wicked potions, and even consorted with spirits and ghosts of the forest—all the ultimate nightmare that silenced children’s night cries.

Li Yan furrowed his brow.

Of course, he wasn’t afraid, after all, he had seen plenty of bizarre creations. But to think Outer Realm demon legends tied so closely with the mark of the Evil God worshipped by the Jianmu Organization?

This was no coincidence!

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard, speaking solemnly: "The chicken-legged hut... matches the brand seen within Mr. Li’s magic platform. Such evil can control divine and demonic shells remotely; the Jianmu’s schemes might already surpass a local nest of evil spirits."

Kong Shangzhao’s face was also grim: "The Goryeo Grinding Plate formation is overt; this Outer Realm evil sorcerer is covert. One external and one internal, complementing each other from afar, their ambition isn’t small."

Though none knew the extent of Baba Yaga’s powers, being tied to figures like Zhao Changsheng and the vast organization of Jianmu suggested considerable dangers and plots behind the name.

The campfire dimmed, the cold wind swept across the snowfield.

After a day of battle, coupled with prisoner interrogation and magic platform ritual exploring the Evil God’s will, everyone was exhausted.

Li Yan leaned against a snow-covered rock, his eyelids heavy, his nerves finally easing after being taut for days.

He almost instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Upon entering slumber, the scene around him became blurred.

The cold breath of the snowfield was replaced by a wet, chilly fog. Wisps of white mist arose silently, quickly spreading throughout the entire space.

In the mist, a vague and authoritative silhouette slowly took shape, carrying the stern incense aura.

It was indeed the Five Dao General manifesting in the dream, coming to meet...

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