"What kind of sinister technique is this?"
Li Yan's eyes widened in shock, unable to hold back his question.
Indeed, the man's bulk wasn't mere obesity.
The throwing knife Li Yan had hurled carried hidden strength—enough to pierce flesh, if not shatter stone. Yet, the man's quivering fat had dissipated the force.
A refined strength master could do the same, but not like this!
This technique was unheard of.
"It's a method passed down from the Immortal Way sect…" Luo Mingzi said, eyes brimming with caution. "He knows the Maitreya Great Brahma Sound, so he's one of the sixty-four incense masters. Ordinary techniques won't work—target his legs!"
His experience shone through, instantly spotting Mountain Lord's weakness.
The Law Enforcement Hall had sorcerers who could set up altars or summon spirit soldiers, but they were injured and left at the base. Those present relied on close combat, supplemented by minor techniques.
The Maitreya Great Brahma Sound could counter their spells, and with the man's bizarre physique, striking his upper body was futile—a single mistake could be fatal.
Their only chance was his lower body.
Without hesitation, Luo Mingzi and the remaining Taoist leaped forward, swords drawn.
The stones before Mountain Lord had been cleared, but he stood unfazed, sneering at them.
The two Taoists' attacks arrived in a flash.
One soared upward, weaving a dazzling sword flourish aimed at Mountain Lord's eyes, the blade's gleam disorienting.
This move, Immortal Points the Way, held a subtle variation. Seemingly a feint, it blended deception with precision, targeting eyes, throat, and other vitals, adapting to the foe's reactions.
As the saying goes, amid dazzling chaos, only one path is true.
But this fierce swordplay was a decoy.
As Mountain Lord's eyes were caught by the flourish, Luo Mingzi followed, his form hidden by his companion.
This was their combined tactic, drawn from the Mysterious Gate's Art of Concealment.
Even with keen eyesight, Mountain Lord's vision was blocked, creating a blind spot. Luo Mingzi used his comrade as cover, concealing his movements.
This swordplay was called the Concealment Sword Array.
Two could wield it; three made it stronger. With enough people and artifacts, it could harness surrounding righteous and sinister energies, forming a "momentum" and "formation."
Using this clever concealment, Luo Mingzi crouched low, silently circling to Mountain Lord's side, and slashed at his tendons.
Mountain Lord's massive frame, especially his belly, obscured his view. Even if he looked down, he couldn't see Luo Mingzi.
Yet his upper body was eerily agile.
Facing the Immortal Points the Way, he twisted his head and sidestepped, grabbing the sword with his massive left hand, heedless of its sharp edge.
Simultaneously, his right hand swung the spiked mace backward with a terrifying whoosh, aiming for Luo Mingzi.
Luo Mingzi's face changed.
In combat, instinct drives one to dodge harm, often leading to greater peril. Many techniques exploit this, attacking left to force a rightward flaw.
But he hadn't expected Mountain Lord to trade injury for injury.
His sword could sever tendons, but the mace would smash his head like a melon.
With no choice, Luo Mingzi surged with force, shifting direction midair in a hawk-like flip, narrowly dodging the mace.
The Taoist attacking above wasn't so lucky.
His sword, gripped by Mountain Lord, was yanked back, hoping the blade's edge would slice the man's hand.
But Mountain Lord's grasp, infused with hidden strength far beyond normal, bent the blade.
The Taoist felt his sword stuck in stone, immovable despite his efforts.
Then came a tremendous pull.
Clinging to the sword risked being flung into the wall.
His face paled, and he released it.
Too late.
Mountain Lord's tug threw him off balance midair. After repelling Luo Mingzi, the mace swung upward toward him.
But then, Mountain Lord paused, abandoning the attack to twist his head, dodging a throwing knife aimed at his eyes.
Li Yan had seized the moment, hurling the knife to save his ally.
This gave the Taoist a chance. Flipping midair, he unleashed hidden strength, kicking Mountain Lord's belly and retreating swiftly.
Mountain Lord, taking the heavy kick, stepped back only once. His belly rippled like water, absorbing the force.
The kick, powered by hidden strength, left him unscathed.
After the exchange, Luo Mingzi was behind, with Li Yan and the Taoist in front, forming a pincer.
Yet Mountain Lord remained unfazed. His bloodied left hand slapped his belly, fat jiggling, dislodging the earlier knife.
The wound, filled with greasy yellow fat, stopped bleeding.
Luo Mingzi's eyes darkened. "Careful, he's reached refined strength!"
No wonder…
Li Yan understood.
A refined strength master with freakish fat was a human fortress, excelling in attack and defense.
If not for his sluggish speed, someone might have died in that exchange.
After repelling them, Mountain Lord didn't pursue. He stood, mace swaying, eyeing them slantwise, as if waiting for their move.
Then, Li Yan's vision blurred, another image appearing:
The old man from before, eyes full of despair, the sack on his head growing, nearly engulfing it.
The vision faded, but Li Yan's face shifted. "He's stalling. The treasure's almost his!"
Luo Mingzi charged, this time aiming not for Mountain Lord but to flick the cloth sack from the ground.
"Get lost!" Mountain Lord's sneer vanished, his fat contorting fiercely. His small eyes blazed as he swung the mace, forcing Luo Mingzi back.
The trio saw Li Yan was right.
He was stalling. Once the treasure was secured, he'd fight without restraint, putting them in grave danger.
The Taoist beside Li Yan grabbed his unconscious comrade's sword and rushed forward, coordinating with Luo Mingzi.
Li Yan harassed, buying Luo Mingzi time.
But Mountain Lord fought with fury, fat quivering, mace whirling, abandoning defense to push them back repeatedly…
In the other tunnel, combat had ceased.
Blood pooled on the ground, a dozen black-clad men lay dead—short, with broad, plow-like hands, all disciples of the old thief.
Gu Chenzi's group fared poorly.
Red moss covered their faces, sapping their strength. They sat, glaring at their foe.
Against the wall, another patch of mountain ginseng spirit lay, pierced with red stakes, bound with red ropes and copper coins—a treasure-binding technique.
Mo Laowai, the treasure seeker, also lay on the ground, face moss-covered, yet calm.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Why press me so hard?"
"I don't wish to cross the Taixuan Orthodox Sect, but years of tomb-raiding have filled me with yin poison. Without this treasure, I won't survive the year."
"Don't worry, this 'earth blood cloak' is made from celestial treasure. It won't kill. In half an incense stick's time, it'll fade."
Gu Chenzi and the others fumed.
The old man was cunning, using his disciples as shields and deploying a colorless, odorless poison from celestial treasure. They'd all been afflicted before noticing.
Luo Fengzi, the eldest, said gravely, "You're courting death. Once our allies break the other side's setup, you think you'll escape?"
Mo Laowai laughed. "You think with my skills, I'd ally with just anyone?"
"That beggar chief, Chu Shan, is one of the Maitreya Cult's sixty-four incense masters!"
"Mountain Ape?" Luo Fengzi, familiar with the name, paled. "Nonsense. Rumors say Chu Shan was black-furred and hunched like a monkey, long dead. That fat beggar chief—how could they be the same?"
"No surprise," Mo Laowai said, shaking his head. "I nearly missed it too. If he hadn't used the Maitreya Great Brahma Sound to break my spell, I wouldn't have realized."
"When the Maitreya Cult was at its peak, its sixty-four incense masters, named for the sixty-four hexagrams, spread across the land, blending Buddhist, Taoist, and shamanic secrets. Without court insiders' provocation, why would they gather in Guanzhong for a revolt, only to be crushed?"
Luo Fengzi's eyes narrowed. "You know of this?"
Mo Laowai sneered. "No wall is airtight. Pity the Guanzhong folk who died unaware it was a setup."
Luo Fengzi sighed, closing his eyes, silent.
Mo Laowai smacked his lips, dropping the topic. "In Qin and Han times, the Immortal Way sect sought longevity, creating strange methods."
"One involved eating corpse flesh, gathering yin poison to form fat controllable by hidden strength, called Flesh Maitreya."
"Chu Shan, through some ordeal, mastered this, becoming neither man nor ghost. Every first and fifteenth, his body erupts in sores and poison, wracked with pain."
"Otherwise, why abandon everything to hide in this graveyard?"
"He's reached refined strength and wields this Flesh Maitreya technique. Your allies are likely dead by now."
"Bullshit!" Gu Chenzi roared, furious.
Mo Laowai grinned. "Worry about yourselves. I won't act, but Chu Shan won't spare you."
"Don't fret too much, though. I prepared this 'earth blood cloak' for you."
"You'll help me leave this graveyard!"
He laughed heartily.
Luo Fengzi opened his eyes, cold. "Greed blinds. With celestial treasure at stake, you think Chu Shan will spare you?"
Mo Laowai smirked. "Before, I'd worry. I even prepared against him. But here, I'm not concerned."
"This mountain ginseng spirit is far larger than I imagined…"
In the other tunnel, Li Yan's expression grew grim.
The mountain god, formed from the ginseng spirit, had pleaded again but now lay still, as did the fleshy ground.
The treasure was nearly secured.
Chu Shan's prowess, bolstered by his freakish fat, fought without defense. Though covered in wounds, he repeatedly repelled them.
Luo Mingzi noticed another flaw: Chu Shan's wounds emitted a rotting stench, his blood greenish-black.
An idea struck. His right hand wielded the sword to harass, while his left, hidden behind, formed seals rapidly.
He'd used this against Zheng Heibei.
It was the Taoist Palm Thunder.
Thunder techniques, the mightiest of Taoist arts, varied widely, harnessing yin-yang dynamics to suppress evil, unmatched in power.
True thunder-summoning required altars, days of rituals, and favorable conditions.
His Palm Thunder was basic, clashing righteous and sinister energies to disrupt an opponent's vital force.
It had scattered Zheng Heibei's yin spirits.
Chu Shan's fat, clearly a sinister technique, could be disrupted, buying time.
Fortunately, Chu Shan, awakened in physical prowess, didn't sense Luo Mingzi's gathering energy.
As he attacked again, Luo Mingzi flung his Seven-Star Sword at the cloth sack.
"Bold!" Chu Shan, startled, swung his mace to block.
Clang! The sword was knocked aside.
But he'd fallen for Luo Mingzi's ruse.
Blocking exposed his chest. Luo Mingzi lunged, striking with a Palm Thunder infused with hidden strength.
As expected, Chu Shan's chest fat ceased quivering. A crack sounded—his sternum shattered.
In pain, Chu Shan staggered back two steps, but his left hand swung.
"Move!" Luo Mingzi roared, only to be sent flying by the enraged Chu Shan, crashing into the wall and spitting blood, unconscious.
Li Yan and the Taoist attacked simultaneously.
Chu Shan, prioritizing the greater threat, endured the pain, swinging his mace at the Taoist.
Li Yan rolled right, grabbing the bent sword Chu Shan had warped. Using Mud-Treading Steps, he aimed for the dagger's earlier wound and stabbed.
"Roar!" The blade pierced his organs, causing excruciating pain. Chu Shan's mace smashed Li Yan to the ground.
Pfft! Li Yan spat blood, but a cold smile curled his lips. He kicked the sword's hilt with force.
Instantly, a gaping wound tore open Chu Shan's belly.
Clatter! The twisted sword flew out, dragging half an intestine.
The Taoist, eyes red with fury, seized the moment. Seeing Luo Mingzi and Li Yan injured, he grabbed the bent sword.
Its sharpness risked severing the intestine, but he used Taiji Coiling Silk Strength, retreating swiftly, pulling out a long stretch of Chu Shan's guts.
Yet Chu Shan didn't die.
Enraged, knowing death was near, he chased the Taoist with his mace, intent on killing before falling.
"Do it!" The Taoist, cunning, roared, dragging Chu Shan's intestines out of the chamber.
One, to finish him.
Two, to buy Li Yan time.
In moments, only the unconscious Luo Mingzi and Li Yan remained.
Li Yan dropped his pretense, his wounds healing rapidly. He reached for the cloth sack.
But his face changed.
Power surged from the sack, rapidly mending the massive gash in the Great Luo Dharma Body.
The flow seemed endless.
The Dharma Body's wounds vanished.
Celestial treasure's blessed fortune!
This filthy sack was so extraordinary?
Whoosh! Li Yan's vision blurred, another image appearing:
The mountain god reappeared, bowing with clasped hands, eyes filled with fear and pleading…
*(End of Chapter)*