The Blade-Wielding Legend

The situation is urgent, and the circumstances below the secret passage are unknown.

Li Yan made an immediate decision: "Time is of the essence, Daoist Five Dragon Sons, please accompany me down. The rest of you, hold this temple and support from all directions, be wary of ambushes!"

He selected the Five Dragon Sons of the Wudang Sect, led by Yu Longzi, who excelled at joint attacks and arrays, each with their unique skills. These six were the strongest individuals in the current team, and their coordination was the most seamless.

Senior Brother Zhang Jingqing carefully held the still slightly trembling Black Altar and walked to the base of the Divine Statue. He and his junior brother once again worked together to slightly reveal a seam in the talisman at the altar’s mouth, murmuring incantations to guide the last strength of the Mountain God’s residual soul.

A blue-black breath with a strong earthy scent seeped from the altar’s mouth, entwining like a living vine around the ankles of Li Yan, Yu Longzi, Gu Linzi, and the other six.

"Everyone, stand firm!" Zhang Jingxuan whispered sternly.

The six of them held their breath, their minds on high alert.

In the next instant, the ground beneath their feet seemed to lose its substance, turning into a viscous quagmire.

A powerful, irresistible force from the earth pulled fiercely!

Swish!

Six figures sank into the solid frozen ground as if they were diving into water, leaving no trace behind, only the ruined stone statue of the Mountain God cast increasingly eerie shadows in the dim and dilapidated temple.

Outside the temple, the wind and snow howled, and those guarding above had their hearts in their throats.

...

The fierce north wind howled, and flags flapped with a muffled crackling sound.

The reinforcements of the Great Xuan Dynasty finally set out.

Heavy wheels rolled over the frozen ground, leaving deep ruts, and soldiers clad in newly styled cotton armor marched silently, spears like a forest, firearms slung sideways, with mules and horses laden with supplies, exhaling white puffs of breath.

Above the procession, the stern military atmosphere lingered and did not disperse, oppressing the wind and snow to seem subdued.

Under the commanding flag, Marshal Pingwei sat astride his horse, looking steadily towards the southeast.

There lay the direction of White Tiger Gully.

Wudang Sect Leader Yu Chanzi and Heavenly Master Zhang of the Southern Heavenly Master Mansion rode abreast on either side, their Daoist robes flapping in the wind, their expressions indifferent, as if on an ordinary outing.

However, this grand military might had long been observed by those lurking in the shadows.

A few miles away, behind a wind-sheltered snow slope, several white shadows almost merging with the snowy terrain moved stealthily.

Their attire was tight and peculiar, blending with the snow, leaving only a pair of emotionless eyes exposed. They were the ninjas of Japan. The leader took out a small bone flute, brought it to his lips, and blew silently.

A snow owl instantly pierced through the wind and snow, speeding away.

Before long, the southeastern sky over White Tiger Gully suddenly turned gloomy.

Not clouds gathering, but a dense fog with an icy blue glow, rolling in like a massive living entity. The cold wind immediately became penetratingly sharp, and the swirling snowflakes were no longer white but tainted with ominous gray-blue.

In the dense fog, indistinct, countless non-human outlines swayed: twisted beast shapes, hunched human figures, floating ghost fire, mingling with the nerve-grating sound of bone friction and repressed wailing.

The ghostly realm of wind and snow rapidly approached, causing the vanguard cavalry to nervously neigh and paw the ground.

Just as the icy blue mist was about to touch the outermost scout team, a clear Daoist shout rang out through the army: "True Martial Demon Vibration, Wind and Thunder Obedience!"

Yu Longzi had already leaped to the front of a supply cart.

His expression solemn, left hand forming the Thunder Technique, right hand raising an ancient copper seal: its handle entwined with a tortoise and serpent, the Wind and Thunder Treasure Seal secreted by the Wudang Zhenwu Palace.

He performed Step Gang Stepping, with each step he took, the ground cracked beneath him.

After seven steps, a simple yet Dao-infused Thunder Altar instantly formed.

He chanted softly, his voice low but every word rang like clashing metal, cutting through the wind and snow:

"Five Directions Thunder Gods, obey my decree! Xun Wind Leading the Way, Thunder Shock Evil! Swift as law and decree!"

"Decree!"

With the final syllable ringing out, Yu Longzi fiercely pressed the Wind and Thunder Treasure Seal towards the surging mist!

There was no dazzling beam of light, no deafening thunder.

The world seemed to go silent for a moment, then an immense yet imperceptible ’force’ erupted from the treasure seal!

A gale sprang up from the ground, no longer a chaotic north wind but a severe wind with a tearing cloth-like shrill, piercing deep into the fog!

Within the wind was the muffled sound of rolling thunder, as if war drums from the Nine Heavens thundered deep within the clouds, stirring one’s blood and spirit.

If Li Yan were present, he would be astounded to discover that Yu Longzi’s Dao had advanced another level compared to the Southwest Battlefield, now reaching the Sixth Layer. No wonder he was seen as the candidate for the next Wudang Sect Leader.

"Wuu—!!!"

From deep within the dense fog came a shrill, ear-piercing wail!

The sound was filled with pain and venom, as if emanating from the Nine Netherworld Hell.

With this wail, the icy blue mist was violently torn and stirred by an invisible giant hand, instantly becoming thin and chaotic. The howling wind and snow also halted abruptly, as if losing their central force.

As the mist dispersed slightly, the hidden scene within was completely exposed.

It was a dense horde of fierce Japanese ghost soldiers, taking advantage of the wind and snow cover, surging towards the military formation like a tide! Some were skeletal figures clad in tattered armor, others had beast heads and human bodies with sharp claws and fangs, roaring with unsettling growls.

"Target, treacherous figures ahead! Three-round volley! Fire!" the frontline officer immediately ordered.

The artillery positions, long prepared, roared into action!

Improved explosive shells whistled through the thinning mist, fiercely striking the densest area of ghost soldiers, showcasing the power of new artillery.

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