Chapter 72: Great Battle in the Provincial Capital
Wearing shackles on his ankles and manacles on his wrists, Jiang Kuotian slowly walked out of the prison cell. His robe had been torn apart, his hair messy, his entire body covered in wounds.
His bare feet left one bloody footprint after another on the ground, the flesh of his soles mangled beyond recognition.
In front of him and behind him were many prisoners just like him, shuffling onto the street like walking corpses.
Though dark clouds rolled overhead and the sky was completely hidden, Jiang Kuotian still felt it somewhat dazzling.
He could no longer think about how long he had been imprisoned. His cultivation was currently completely gone, as if he had become a cripple.
Even walking alone made his entire body ache unbearably.
Only after adapting for quite a while did he finally lift his head. The once-prosperous streets of the provincial capital were now filled with signs of ruin.
All the shops on both sides of the street were shut tight; lanterns, rags, and all kinds of debris were scattered everywhere.
He even saw the corpse of a woman lying beside the edge of a well. It seemed she had suffered some torment—her clothes were disheveled, and her forehead was caked with dried blood.
Jiang Kuotian only glanced once at the woman’s corpse, then shifted his gaze elsewhere.
His heart had already gone numb. In that dungeon, he had seen hell.
He did not know where they were taking him next, but if it was to die, that would be a kind of relief.
“Move faster!”
A Demonic Cult martial artist on horseback swung his whip and shouted harshly.
As he spoke, he lashed the prisoner walking at the very front of the line.
Jiang Kuotian recognized that prisoner—he was a hall master of White Emperor Manor.
Usually, he appeared awe-inspiring, someone Jiang Kuotian had always regarded as incredibly powerful. Within the martial world, most first-rate experts were no match for him.
Yet such a formidable figure now drooped his head and trembled as he walked forward, his body far thinner than Jiang Kuotian remembered.
The White Emperor Manor that he once considered the strongest had been reduced to ashes.
His heart had already tasted despair; now only numbness remained.
He no longer hoped for rescue—he only wished the road ahead would be easier to walk.
“Demonic Cult Demon Emperor! Come out and fight me to the death!”
A loud shout came from the distance, amplified by inner energy until it thundered across the streets.
Jiang Kuotian and the other prisoners did not stop walking, nor did their eyes change at all, because such things had happened before.
Many masters of the martial world had come to challenge the Demonic Cult—each of them famous. Every time, they had hoped for salvation, but what awaited them afterward was silence.
The surrounding Demonic Cult martial artists showed no reaction either, not treating the challenger seriously in the slightest.
Just then, Jiang Kuotian saw the city gate several hundred zhang ahead suddenly collapse.
A flood of figures surged in like a school of fish crossing the river.
The one leading the charge leapt onto the eaves of the buildings on both sides of the street and rushed swiftly toward them.
Before Jiang Kuotian could think further, a group of Demonic Cult martial artists leapt from rooftops behind him, entering his field of vision as they charged toward the incoming martial world forces.
As Jiang Kuotian watched the Demonic Cult martial artists rush forward endlessly, confusion arose within him.
How could the Demonic Cult have so many people?
He had been imprisoned for a long time, yet this was the first time he had seen so many members of the Demonic Cult.
The Demonic Cult had supposedly been annihilated by the imperial court—how could they raise so many people in secret?
Jiang Kuotian could tell that every one of these Demonic Cult members carried murderous intent; they were clearly battle-hardened, not mere secluded cultivators.
As more martial artists charged through the city gate, the prisoners around Jiang Kuotian gradually raised their heads, light returning to their eyes.
“It’s people from Xuandang…”
“That’s right. The one leading the charge is Perfected Changming of Xuandang. Thirty years ago, he was already the Number One of Guzhou’s martial world. I didn’t expect him to descend the mountain…”
“Xuandang’s Eighteen Manifestations are here as well.”
“So many people? Did Xuandang send all of its disciples?”
The prisoners whispered.
Most of them were experts of White Emperor Manor, knowledgeable and familiar with Xuandang, so they recognized these Xuandang experts.
Jiang Kuotian’s heartbeat began to quicken.
Was there truly hope of rescue?
Perfected Changming, who led the charge, wore a deep-blue Daoist robe.
His white hair was bound under a jade crown, his white beard and brows immaculate. With a longsword in hand, he looked like an immortal.
His movement was incredibly fast, quickly widening the distance between him and the main Xuandang forces behind.
More than a dozen Demonic Cult experts rushed at him.
Sword-light and blade-light flashed. His footwork was exquisite; in less than two breaths, he passed straight through the group.
As cries of agony sounded, those Demonic Cult experts toppled from the rooftops, blood splashing through the air.
Perfected Changming’s robe was unstained. He continued rushing forward, flicking his sword to shake off the fresh blood from the blade.
He was like a sharp sword stabbing into the Demonic Cult ranks—unstoppable and unmatched. Behind him, Xuandang disciples collided with the Demonic Cult forces, and a massive battle erupted.
Perfected Changming charged toward Jiang Kuotian and the other prisoners, intending to rescue them.
His unstoppable figure brought the prisoners hope.
The Demonic Cult experts guarding them all drew their weapons, preparing to fight.
At this moment—
Jiang Kuotian saw a Demonic Cult expert wielding a long spear step across the rooftop, shooting toward Perfected Changming like an arrow. Inner energy swirled around him. Perhaps because he was too fast—
Clang—
Spear and sword clashed.
Perfected Changming’s expression grew solemn.
The opponent was far too fast to evade, and moreover, his strength was overwhelmingly heavy, forcing Perfected Changming to channel his inner energy.
This Demonic Cult expert also wore a ghost mask. His long hair was tied high, and beneath his black robe was a suit of armor.
A longsword hung at his waist.
His eyes were cold to the extreme, his killing intent almost tangible.
The Demonic Cult expert suddenly raised his knee, aiming for Perfected Changming’s chin.
Perfected Changming had to leap to avoid the strike, landing atop a rooftop and sliding backward two zhang.
Perfected Changming narrowed his eyes at the aura swirling around the opponent and said in a deep voice: “True Essence Gang Qi—what is your relationship with Great Martial Sect?”
“Demonic Cult, Wu Dingbei!”
After declaring his name, the spear-wielding expert thrust his spear.
The spear shot out like a dragon, domineering energy sweeping forward, lifting tiles into the air.
Perfected Changming raised his sword and slashed. His sword-qi swept out and collided with Wu Dingbei’s spear-qi, creating a powerful shockwave that made the entire building tremble.
Almost simultaneously, the two clashed again.
With Perfected Changming held back, Xuandang’s thousand-plus experts were also stopped.
Seeing that the Demonic Cult had even more people than Xuandang, the hope in the prisoners’ hearts was extinguished again.
The Demonic Cult was simply too strong—so strong that victory seemed impossible.
Dong—
A deep bell note rang out, startling Jiang Kuotian and the other prisoners.
Turning their heads, they saw a monk wearing a kasaya charging toward them while carrying a huge bronze bell.
“It’s the Taixing Divine Monk of Chan Meditation Temple!”
A prisoner cried out hoarsely, his excitement evident.
Chan Meditation Temple had come as well!
This time, the prisoners believed Guzhou’s martial world had joined forces. That was far stronger than the Heavenly Blade Sect coming alone.
Demonic Cult martial artists rushed at the Taixing Divine Monk from all directions. When they were within three zhang, the Divine Monk raised his hand and struck the bell.
The bell resounded like an explosion, its sound waves spreading like tides, sending more than a dozen Demonic Cult martial artists flying.
Blood burst beneath their masks as they were gravely injured.
Meanwhile—
At the edge of the city, in the military encampment—
The Demon Emperor stood on a high platform with his hands behind his back, quietly gazing into the distance.
Around him, generals and soldiers were repositioning themselves.
They stared at the Demon Emperor from afar—some fearful, some furious, some unwilling—but none dared step forward.
A Daoist in green robes strolled leisurely up the platform. His hair was mixed black and white, his face looking to be in his forties, a goat beard beneath which two large moles stood out. Stroking his beard, he approached the Demon Emperor.
“Xuandang and Chan Meditation Temple have arrived. Only Clear Sky Sect has yet to come. Among Guzhou’s martial world, only these three sects have martial artists strong enough.”
This green-robed Daoist was the Daoist Wei spoken of within the Demonic Cult, known as the “Daoist Mystic” among commoners.
Still staring ahead, the Demon Emperor said, “How many more people do you need?”
“When the Immortality-Seeking Pill will be completed is not something this poor Daoist can decide. I can only say: do one’s best and leave the rest to fate.”
Daoist Wei spoke leisurely, not anxious at all.
The Demon Emperor remained silent.
Daoist Wei smiled again. “Demon Emperor, do you wish to have your fortune told?”
“This seat does not believe in fate.”
The Demon Emperor replied coldly, making Daoist Wei shake his head.
Just then, a Demonic Cult martial artist rode up on horseback and stopped before the platform, shouting, “Reporting to the Sect Master! The provincial army of Eastern Tomb Province is approaching. It appears to be one hundred thousand strong, with several thousand cavalry!”
The Demon Emperor immediately ordered, “Send General Bai to lead the troops to battle.”
“Yes!”
The martial artist turned his horse and rode toward a military tent.
Daoist Wei said discontentedly, “The Inspector-General of Eastern Tomb Province is not obedient enough. Later, he must be refined into pill residue.”
The Demon Emperor gave no reply.
Instead, he turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
……
Bang—
A figure crashed into a building, collapsing it in a burst of dust.
Demonic Cult experts landed atop courtyard walls and rooftops around the scene.
Wu Dingbei held his spear in one hand and said coldly, “Perfected Changming, you are one of the few upright people in the martial world. Why step into muddy waters? Can you not see this catastrophe is not something martial artists can reverse?”
When the dust dispersed, the disheveled Perfected Changming pushed away a beam and staggered to his feet.
His face was covered in blood, his right arm hanging down, the hand gripping his sword trembling uncontrollably.
He lifted his gaze to look up at Wu Dingbei towering overhead and asked weakly, “You people should be elite soldiers of the Great Li Dynasty. You even trained under the Three Founding Sects of Zhongtian—why commit such heaven-shaking atrocities?”
Wu Dingbei looked down at him and said, “Since you’ve seen through our identities, why ask meaningless questions?”
Perfected Changming remained silent.
Wu Dingbei did not immediately capture him. Instead, he lifted his spear and pointed into the distance. “Your juniors are dying one after another. Xuandang and Chan Meditation Temple may be two of Guzhou’s Five Great Sects, but the Great Li Dynasty rules the Nine Provinces and Fourteen Regions. Guzhou is large to you—but to the world, it is very small.”
“As long as you bow your head and submit, perhaps I can let some Xuandang disciples live, preserving your sect’s legacy.”
Perfected Changming clenched his teeth and glared at Wu Dingbei, asking, “Why would you help Xuandang?”
Wu Dingbei did not look at him. Calmly, he answered, “Forty years ago, when you roamed the martial world, you once saved me. You may no longer remember, but that does not stop me from repaying that debt.”