Chapter 437: The Barbarian Horde’s Sudden Assault
In the dense forest halfway up the mountain, Tu Ming revealed his figure.
He stood about seven feet tall, his body broad and muscular, with every line of muscle sharply defined.
His skin was bronze in hue, his attire made of beast hide. He went barefoot, and a massive serpent coiled around his waist and back. The serpent was already dead, leaving only its preserved husk, yet it still appeared lifelike. Its enormous head rested upon Tu Ming’s shoulder, making the sight especially terrifying.
As the High Priest of the Hundred Venoms Tribe, known by the title “Poison Belly,” Tu Ming’s ornaments were all made of snake bones and viper scales. His necklace was strung with fangs and venom sacs.
At this moment, he stretched out his withered fingers and gently pinched one tiny venom sac that hung from his necklace.
He plucked the venom sac off and infused it with his mana.
In an instant, the sac regained its original form, expanding until it was palm-sized, resting upon the High Priest’s hand.
Tu Ming murmured softly, forming a mouth seal as he chanted a long incantation.
At the same time, his five fingers pressed against the venom sac, continuously kneading it.
Though his fingers bore the same bronze color, the wrinkles and the gaps between them were pitch black, as if smeared with iron ash.
His motions were not without pattern—his five fingers twisted and writhed like five venomous serpents, coiling over the sac’s surface, slithering and massaging it with cold, damp pressure.
Tu Ming’s lips curved into a cruel smile, his gaze growing ever colder, exuding ruthless malice.
Poison Art—Formless Venom!
The mouth seals and hand seals intertwined; based on the venom sac’s power, he unleashed this technique.
Tu Ming was a Nascent Soul–level cultivator, and it had been many years since he last cast a spell with such solemnity and full strength.
The venom sac continued to shrink as its essence was consumed, eventually collapsing into a thin membranous film.
Colorless, odorless, and soundless poison gas spread forth under Tu Ming’s spiritual sense, silently drifting toward the mountain’s base.
There, a massive army was marching through rugged terrain—the Barbarian-Demon Army of the Liangzhu Kingdom.
The poison gas floated into the army ranks unhindered, rapidly spreading.
Countless barbarians and demon cultivators inhaled it as they marched on, laughing and chatting, even quarreling loudly, entirely unaware that death was already upon them.
“Old Ox, how was that snake demoness, eh?”
“What snake demon? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Don’t play dumb! Everyone saw you sneak into that female snake demon’s tent last night for Dual Cultivation. Look at you now—so drained and weary you can barely walk. Did she suck you dry?”
“Nonsense! I, Old Ox, am as strong as ever! I could Dual Cultivate seventeen or eighteen times a night and still be full of vigor—like a dragon, a tiger, and a stallion combined…”
Thud.
Before he could finish, the bull-headed demon cultivator toppled over with a dull thump, face expressionless.
Dead.
His companion burst out laughing. “Old Ox talks too big—he’s worn himself out again, ha—uh…”
Thud.
He, too, fell, his expression calm, life gone in an instant.
Thud, thud…
A chain of cultivators collapsed one after another, like wheat stalks battered by rain and wind, falling in waves.
At that moment, the Barbarian-Demon Camp finally realized something was wrong.
The sentry cultivator struck the alarm bell and shouted, “Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!”
Thud.
He dropped dead the next second.
But the alarm bell, being a magical artifact, continued to ring out shrill warnings.
“Disaster, General! Someone has poisoned us! Over a hundred of our men are already dead!” a subordinate reported breathlessly.
Seated atop a heavily armored rhino, General Xu Dali was taken aback. He immediately grabbed the massive long-handled war hammer hanging beside his mount and roared, “Form ranks! Form ranks!”
His booming voice carried like a gust of storm wind. The inner circle of elite guards understood the urgency, while the outer troops, confused by the commotion, turned their questioning gazes inward.
A subordinate quickly asked, “General, which formation shall we set up?”
“The Iron-Bucket Formation! Form the Iron-Bucket Formation first!” Xu Dali bellowed.
His officers sprang into motion—some raising banners, some setting weapons, others shouting commands.
The Barbarian-Demon Camp, like a lumbering bear startled from slumber after being wounded, bristled with fury and vigilance.
Elsewhere along the mountainside, two Nascent Soul–level barbarian cultivators stood side by side.
One was Di Lu, his eyes wrapped in black cloth, bare torso painted with blood-red totems, two massive crescent blades strapped across his back.
The other was Gu Ya, with blue hair, wolf-claw markings etched across his face, and a fearsome wolf-fang club in his hand.
Both were cultivators of the same formidable realm.
Gu Ya suddenly slammed his club into the mountain rock with great force.
He tilted his head upward, chest expanding with a deep inhalation before biting his fingertip and letting blood flow.
Dipping his finger in his own blood, he traced along the claw-like markings across his face and forehead.
At the same time, he channeled his mana, infusing it into the wolf-claw patterns.
The blood and mana together awakened the markings—they came alive, spreading rapidly across his face and chest.
Finally, they extended down his limbs and into the surrounding mountainside.
Moments later, blood-blue runes formed a vast and ancient design, encircling Gu Ya and Di Lu at its heart.
Storage Formation—Beast Realm: Wolf Mountain!
A dazzling blue-red brilliance erupted from the formation, and from that glow charged out packs of wolves.
These savage mountain wolves bore fur ranging from light gray to deep gray, and some even glowed with a bluish hue.
They were Gu Ya’s personal, meticulously reared beasts—most at the Qi Refining Stage, their leaders at the Foundation Establishment Stage.
Among them were three Golden Core–level commanders, each as large as a calf. They did not rush forward but instead stood beside Gu Ya, forming a protective guard.
Like a flood, the wolf packs surged down from the mountainside, forming a ferocious army tide that swept toward the Barbarian-Demon Camp.
Having completed his poison art, High Priest Tu Ming observed the camp from afar.
Seeing the panic and the attempt to form a battle array, he sneered coldly. “Iron-Bucket Formation? Lu Hongtu was right—this Xu Dali lacks adaptability. Such a crude formation—how can it possibly withstand my Formless Venom?”
Meanwhile, Gu Ya also noticed the movement within the camp. His brows furrowed tightly.
Once the Iron-Bucket Formation was established, the Barbarian-Demon Camp’s defense would rise greatly, posing immense difficulty for his wolves’ assault.
“The Cangyue Tribe, if defeated by the Hundred Venoms Tribe—where would our honor remain?”
“The divine decree commands us to fight with all our might. Yet if my wolf pack suffers too many losses, how could I face the main forces of the Liangzhu Kingdom in the future?”
As that thought crossed his mind, Lone Fang immediately let out a long howl, spreading his arms wide as he leapt into a battle dance on the spot.
The blood-blue markings on his body flared with every ancient and primal movement he made, leaving behind traces of shimmering blood-blue light in midair.
The light traces intertwined, weaving into the shape of an altar.
Lone Fang ascended the altar and began to cast his technique.
Beast-Taming Art—Wolves Galloping in the Wind!
The Wolf Galloping Art took effect at once. The speed of the wolf pack suddenly surged, closing the charge distance rapidly.
Beast-taming was one of the hundred arts of cultivation.
Within the Thousand Peaks Forest, Lone Fang and Giant Bing were both known as the masters of boar and wolf beasts—their mastery in beast-taming arts was profound and widely recognized.
The Barbarian-Demon Army fell into chaos.
“Damn it, the wolf pack has sped up!”
“We won’t have time to form the formation—General, what should we do?”
The subordinates reported urgently.
These past days, General Xu Dali had been working tirelessly. As the main commander, he had pushed the training to its limits. Yet with too many soldiers under his command, the difficulty of drilling them was immense, and the overall training efficiency remained low.
Now, with the situation critical and urgent, the Barbarian-Demon Army, as expected, faltered—they couldn’t form up fast enough.
“Form the formation!” Xu Dali roared, as his aura exploded outward, spreading a wave of Qi.
The wave rapidly expanded, sweeping across the entire army within a few breaths.
Military Strategy—Speed is the Soul of War!
As a commanding general, Xu Dali had naturally cultivated military strategy as well.
The classic art of war principle, Speed is the Soul of War, was one he executed with solid precision.
The wolf pack charged even faster, while under the augmentation of the military art, the Barbarian-Demon Army’s formation speed also increased sharply.
“Hold the line! Not a step back in this battle!” Xu Dali bellowed.
The elite guards and personal soldiers beside him hastened their movements. Centered around them, a tight iron-bucket formation began to take shape.
The deputy general filled in the gaps and respectfully said, “My lord, should we call for reinforcements from our allies?”
Reminded by him, Xu Dali immediately nodded. “Of course, call for aid! Quickly!”
Awooo!
The wolf pack officially clashed with the Barbarian-Demon Army.
The hastily assembled formation line of the Barbarian-Demon Army was like tofu dregs—torn apart and shattered by the wolves’ ferocious assault.
Screams echoed continuously among the soldiers. In the first exchange alone, more than a hundred were killed or injured!
The formation twisted under pressure, several breaches opening wide.
The wolf pack surged in like a flood bursting through a dam, pouring into the inner circle.
But there, they slammed into a wall of iron—their momentum abruptly halted.
Around Xu Dali, his elite and personal guards had already completed a compact iron-bucket formation.
The battle formation granted tremendous defensive power to every cultivator within it. Their bodies seemed clad in copper skin and iron bones, and no matter how the mountain wolves tore or bit, they could barely make a mark.
Halfway up the mountain, Tu Ming’s expression grew heavier.
The resilience of the Barbarian-Demon Army exceeded even his expectations.
He saw that their core formation had stabilized. Though the majority of soldiers outside that core were being pushed back step by step, it was only due to the wolves’ ferocity.
Few showed fear—most bore rage and the desire to strike back.
“The Barbarian-Demon Army’s morale remains usable!”
“Lone Fang is too impatient—he’s ruined my plan to unsettle their hearts.”
Tu Ming’s gaze turned cold with dissatisfaction.
His Formless Venom was invisible, colorless, and tasteless—capable of instilling great terror within the Barbarian-Demon Army, shaking their morale to the core.
But with the wolf pack’s assault following so swiftly, the soldiers didn’t have time to experience the dread of the poison—they were instead drawn into the heat of battle and bloodshed.
The Formless Venom was still at work, but since the soldiers’ attention was fully on the wolves, even when some nearby fell dead in strange ways, most couldn’t spare a thought for it.
Lone Fang’s brows furrowed deeply.
The wolf pack crashed against the small iron-bucket formation, their heads splitting and blood spraying everywhere. In just a short span, over seventy mountain wolves had fallen.
“Xu Dali’s core formation remains unshaken. His influence is taking effect—cultivators near the core circle are gathering toward him. If this isn’t stopped, an even larger iron-bucket formation will soon take shape!”
“At that point, my wolf pack will suffer even greater losses.”
Lone Fang grew agitated. He turned to glare at Di Lu, intending to ask him to join the assault and cooperate in breaking through.
However, the moment Di Lu noticed Lone Fang’s gaze, he decisively shook his head.
Lone Fang’s deep affection for his wolves was something Di Lu could understand, but Di Lu would never jeopardize the greater mission for a small gain. His primary task here was to guard Lone Fang.
Di Lu said, “The Hundred Venoms Tribe and our Cangyue Tribe have already taken action in succession. Don’t forget—there’s still the Ancient Vine Tribe.”
Bound by the divine decree, he had no concern that the members of the Ancient Vine Tribe would dare to slack off.
On another mountain peak—
The Nascent Soul cultivator of the Ancient Vine Tribe, Bi Tengyi, and her husband, the Golden Core cultivator Cang Teng King, both turned their gazes toward the battlefield.
On the battlefield, the Barbarian-Demon Army and the wolf pack were locked in ferocious combat, forming a vast sea of blood and carnage, strewn with mangled corpses.
Seeing that Xu Dali’s iron-bucket formation was continuing to expand, Cang Teng King retrieved the massive black bow from his back.
The black bow appeared to be crafted from deadwood, naturally curved, yet unstrung.
Cang Teng King reached out, plucking at his white beard before suddenly giving it a hard pull.
He tore off a handful of his own white hairs and brought them near the bow.
As he began his incantation, the white hairs rapidly swelled, transforming into pale vines.
Though thin, the white vines were remarkably tough and elastic. They automatically slithered up, tightly wrapping around the upper and lower ends of the black bow, constricting it further until the bow bent even more.
Cang Teng King gripped the black bow in his left hand and drew the empty string with his right, aiming toward the battlefield.
He yanked hard. As he did, the muscles of his right arm bulged, radiating a fierce, masculine vigor.
He drew the bowstring to its limit—then released.
Thump!
A dull sound reverberated as the bowstring snapped back straight, trembling violently.
Though no arrow was visible, a streak of white light suddenly appeared at the spot he had locked onto with his gaze.
The white streak solidified into a pale vine that twisted around a cultivator’s heart, piercing through his torso. From his flesh burst countless thorny tendrils, turning him into a shredded, blood-soaked corpse.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Cang Teng King continued to draw and release the bowstring again and again.
His black bow was not a weapon but a magical instrument. Combined with his sinister spell, it caused vines to sprout from within the bodies of his targets, claiming their lives one after another.
Many key figures in the Barbarian-Demon Army perished inexplicably.
These were not mere foot soldiers—they were formation flag holders, bearers of military orders, and even those controlling minor formation disks.
As these individuals fell, the momentum of the expanding iron-bucket formation came to an abrupt halt.
Seeing this shift, Lone Fang burst into booming laughter and resumed his barbaric dance.
In essence, this was a spell cast through Body Imprint.
Beast-Taming Art—Wolf Howl Shakes the Heart!
Beast-Taming Art—Wolf Claws Like Blades!
After releasing the two spells, Lone Fang was utterly exhausted. He half-kneeled on the ground, panting heavily.
To empower the entire wolf pack alone, even for someone of Nascent Soul rank, was immensely taxing. Especially since the wolf pack was already clashing with the Barbarian-Demon Army—their army Qi interfered with his control, making the spellcasting exponentially more difficult and draining.
The wolf pack, now reinforced, let out a thunderous chorus of howls that violently shook the hearts of the Barbarian-Demon Army cultivators.
Their claws gleamed with a metallic luster, growing sharper and deadlier, as if forged into weapons.
The wolf pack’s assault intensified by another degree, cutting through the ranks of the Barbarian-Demon Army like a storm—blood and bodies flew, men and beasts alike toppling.
“Damn that wretch—controlling the wolves must be Lone Fang! I’ll kill him myself!” Xu Dali, seeing his side suffer heavy casualties, roared in fury. His eyes were bloodshot, his aura raging, and he prepared to charge forward alone to confront Lone Fang.
“General, you must not act rashly!”
The deputy general quickly restrained Xu Dali. Without him, even the barely stabilized small iron-bucket formation would crumble again.