"Monks can be taught even if they are fools, but demons, being malevolent spirits, will inevitably bring disaster?"
Wang Guan frowned, mulling over this half-verse. Suddenly, he lifted his head and straightened his spine. His Taoist Robe billowed without wind, and his neatly groomed beard and whiskers writhed as if imbued with life.
From his skeletally thin body, a vast, ink-dark demonic power emanated.
This demonic power, like a silken veil, spread to envelop the entire Daxiong Bao Hall. It seemed ethereal yet palpably dense, making breathing difficult and threatening to cause anyone nearby to faint.
The Mountain Demon had many identities: monk, Taoist, man, demon.
As a monk, he was the benevolent Abbot of Solitary Cold Temple.
As a Taoist, he was the Necromancer who beguiled the rich and powerful with promises of eternal life.
As a mortal, he was Wang Guan, the kind-hearted and affable wealthy merchant from South Zhili.
Only the final identity, demon, did the Mountain Demon not need to feign. He was, in truth, a ferocious and vicious demon—one that devoured raw meat and blood and led beasts to prey on humans.
"Hahahahahaha."
Wang Guan swung the sleeves of his Taoist Robe and laughed wildly. "You say I'm a monster?"
He took a light step into the air. Beneath him, the stone floor of the Daxiong Bao Hall abruptly caved in, leaving a massive footprint.
"You say I'm a demon?"
He took another step. The lesser demons on either side of the Daxiong Bao Hall, whose cultivation levels were insufficient, were instantly crushed by the distant force of his step, their backs bending. They prostrated themselves on the pedestals of the Buddha statues, faces aghast, bodies trembling violently as blood gushed profusely from their seven orifices.
"You say I'm a disaster?"
He took a third step. His long, pale beard moved without wind. His gaunt palm swept out, unleashing a gale of demonic qi, dark as ink.
Initially, this gale was curved like a crescent moon and narrow as a willow leaf. As it traveled, it gradually dispersed and reshaped, ultimately coalescing into a phalanx of armored, terrifyingly grim-faced Skeleton Soldiers.
"Kill!"
The Skeleton Soldiers, formed from the demonic wind, let out ghastly roars, their bodies wreathed in an almost man-eating, surging blue Demon Flame, as they charged savagely towards the task force.
The lesser demons and fiends in their path, unable to dodge in time, began to rapidly decompose and fester the moment they were grazed by the blades, spears, swords, halberds, axes, battle-axes, hooks, and forks wielded by the Skeleton Soldiers. In just a few breaths, they dissolved on the spot into pools of yellow-green pus, their desperate, choked cries for help never uttered.
Demons recoiled, and ghosts scattered. Those guests who still had enough strength to move under the oppressive aura retreated from the Daxiong Bao Hall like an ebbing tide.
No demon or fiend wanted to get involved in this fight. They dared not, would not, and indeed, could not.
At most, they feared the Mountain Demon's potential retribution after the fight. They considered launching a few ranged attacks from outside the hall to feign support, perhaps shouting "Daoist Master Wang Guan is mighty!" a few times to make a show of it. But they would never personally risk entering the hall. Those attending the banquet were all self-proclaimed shameless minor demons and monsters, skilled in self-preservation. After all, in this era, those demons who weren't too bright and relied on their demonic power to cause trouble had long since been eradicated by the Taoist Door, the Buddha Sect, or government Cultivators.
Even those who had retreated to the courtyard could still feel Wang Guan's immense demonic power emanating from within the Daxiong Bao Hall. While terrified, they were also deeply puzzled, wondering if the Hundred Demon Pill was truly so miraculous as to allow the Mountain Demon to advance his cultivation to such a degree in merely a year.
Inside the hall, facing the sudden assault of Skeleton Soldiers, Wanli Fengdao snorted coldly and drew the three-foot gleaming sword named "Dragon Slayer" from his waist.
SHING—
From a distance, the sword resembled a sliver of moonlight piercing through a break in the clouds—intensely cold, dazzlingly bright, and flashing like lightning. Under the sword's reflective glow, even Wanli Fengdao's face, which seemed to carry the weariness of at least an extra decade, appeared unusually serene and imposing.
An elder's blade, three feet of autumn water, once plunged into Wu Lake to slay a dragon's scion. Wanli Fengdao silently recited this verse about an unknown past as he drew his sword and charged into the Skeleton War Array.
Twist, cleave, stab, spin, slash, shave.
Sword light crisscrossed, dazzling as starlight. He waded through the forest of blades and halberds, axes and hooks, breaking out of the formation amidst the clangor of colliding metal before silently sheathing his sword.
Behind him, the Skeleton Soldiers, weapons still raised, froze for a moment before belatedly crumbling to the ground.
"Playing with swords?" Wang Guan sneered. Suspended in mid-air, he raised his arms, stood on one leg like a golden rooster, and then casually stamped his foot down.
Inside the hall, the ink-dark demonic qi, previously like a light veil, now roiled, churned, and condensed. It formed a massive black cloud that seemed to blot out the sky as it pressed down on everyone.
Wanli Fengdao's expression changed dramatically, his hand instinctively hovering over his sword hilt.
Everyone's scalp tingled uncontrollably, and the hairs on their bodies stood on end. The air felt as if it had solidified, growing incredibly heavy. Breathing, normally a simple act, now required a concerted effort, forcing them to heave their chests just to draw a breath.
"Disperse!" Xing Hechou roared. A golden light flashed around him, and an ancient suit of iron armor materialized on his burly frame.
The armor was composed of over one thousand five hundred fish-scale plates and more than six hundred long strip plates. Both chest and back were adorned with round metal guards polished smooth as mirrors. It was complete with a helmet, neck guard, ear guards, tiger-head Shoulder Armor, dragon-head pauldrons, knee cops, greaves, and tassets.
[Name: Bright Plate]
[Type: Armor]
[Quality: Rare]
[Defensive Power: Medium]
[Special Effect 1: Unyielding (Passively increases the wearer's physical limit by 20%)]
[Special Effect 2: Toughness (Passively increases the wearer's resilience, reducing the duration and intensity of effects such as dizziness, slowdown, fear, and more that the wearer experiences)]
[Note: Behold the light of day, the world is brightly illuminated.]
Clad in the golden iron armor, Xing Hechou abruptly bent his knees. The wolf-head poleyns clashed against the armored skirt with a harsh, grinding sound. The solid ground beneath his feet spiderwebbed under the immense pressure.
The next instant, he leaped high, his iron-clad fists like cannonballs, hurtling towards the cloud of demonic qi.
Black clouds press down on the city, threatening to destroy it; golden armor shines against the sun, like scales opening to the light!
For a long time, the mission team had been preparing for this day. Almost the instant Xing Hechou bellowed "Disperse," the others scattered in perfect sync.
Wanli Fengdao, the most skilled in lightness techniques, flitted between the hall's pillars. Seizing the moment Wang Guan's attention was on Xing Hechou, he suddenly accelerated. With a few swift, rabbit-like leaps and falcon-swoops, he darted past the incense burners at the front of the Daxiong Bao Hall, snatched the woman named Hong Niang by the waist, and landed lightly on the ground.
"Stay put and don't move," Wanli Fengdao said rapidly. He quickly turned his head and saw Xing Hechou, clad in his golden armor, had already charged into the black cloud, his gauntleted fists striking directly at the Mountain Demon's feet.
CLANG—
The sound of metal striking metal reverberated through the Daxiong Bao Hall. Visible shockwaves from the impact blasted the black cloud apart, scattering it outwards.
Wang Guan, still levitating, was thrown backward, staggering several steps in mid-air before regaining his balance.
Xing Hechou, however, crashed heavily to the ground. Beneath his iron gauntlets, the webbing between his thumbs and forefingers had torn open, blood seeping profusely. His clenched fists still trembled uncontrollably.
A sweet taste rose in his throat. He clenched his jaw, swallowed the blood in his mouth, and forced himself to stand. He silently stared at Wang Guan, his clear eyes blazing with a surging fighting spirit.
"Hmph." Wang Guan snorted coldly. He swept his Taoist Robe, placing his hands behind his back. As the hem of his robe billowed violently, the demonic qi reconverged around him, forming another pitch-black cloud.
"Fire borrows the power of the wind, and the wind fuels the fire's might," the Taoist stated calmly, his eyes devoid of emotion as he coldly surveyed the ants beneath him.
Behind him, the black cloud of demonic qi ignited as if a match had been tossed into a pool of oil. First, a single spark flickered, and then a conflagration erupted, spreading like wildfire!
The entire cloud blazed fiercely. The flames weren't the warm orange of an ordinary fire but an eerie, cold blue, utterly devoid of heat.
The twisting, rising blue flames, like bone-gnawing maggots, clung to the golden roof of the Daxiong Bao Hall. Wherever they touched, everything instantly melted: tiles and bricks liquefied, beams toppled, and walls crumbled. Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, half of the Daxiong Bao Hall's roof was devoured by the fire, leaving it exposed beneath the moonlight.
Li Ang clicked his tongue, his expression grave. That's some vicious Demon Flame. This Demon Flame injures on contact and kills if it truly touches you. It's far more terrifying than a White Phosphorus Bomb. I have no desire whatsoever to test if a mortal body can withstand being incinerated by this Demon Flame.