Chapter 110, Immortal Power Awes the World

Translator: StarReader

 

Daoist Han Shan, Liu Hong, Mao Ziyuan, and the other pirate leaders strained their necks, struggling to turn and look back towards the Northern Swamp.

 

They watched as the Whale Gang pirates and White Lotus Society disciples behind them were struck by five massive fireballs descending from the sky, plunging into a vast expanse of blazing inferno.

 

The pirate allied forces were now arranged in a dense attack formation; even a single falling fireball, upon impact, could easily splash and engulf hundreds of people.

 

These five fireballs fell simultaneously, covering a vast area, leaving nowhere to escape. It meant that at least a thousand pirates were instantly engulfed by the fiery explosions.

 

Within the inferno, countless pirates and White Lotus Society disciples transformed into living torches, thrashing and batting at the flames licking at them, wailing and screaming for help.

 

“Save me! I’m going to burn to death!” Some pirates, ablaze, desperately ran towards the Vastest Lake, but before they could cover even a few steps, they were overcome by the flames and collapsed.

 

“Brother, just kill me!”

 

A pirate, his skin peeled and flesh exposed from the burns, yet still clinging to life, crawled from the inferno, pleading with the other pirates.

 

A nearby pirate, steeling his nerve, stepped forward and swung his blade, ending the pirate’s suffering with a single blow.

 

No one dared to attempt a rescue; proximity to the fire meant certain death or injury. All pirates and White Lotus disciples were terrified, wishing they had been born with a few more legs, desperately trying to distance themselves from the fireballs.

 

“Nothing touched the fireballs, yet they were deflected back. Could someone be controlling them with Divine Sense?”

 

Daoist Han Shan swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine.

 

“W-what is going on here?”

 

Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan were utterly bewildered, unable to grasp what had happened. The talismans were clearly meant to strike the martial army, yet they suddenly plummeted onto the pirates’ forces. They were so devastated they nearly wailed in despair, their bodies slack, their hearts trembling.

 

Could this be the scheme devised by Daoist Han Shan and the newly appointed governor, Zhao Juzhen, intended to destroy the Whale Gang and the White Lotus Society?

 

The Whale Gang and the White Lotus Society had always held Daoist Han Shan in high regard and hadn’t offended a Daoist!

 

Why would  Daoist not lead the way, allowing them to remain nestled in Vastest Lake and Lou County, comfortably living as pirates and members of the White Lotus Society? Why would Daoist go to such lengths, killing government soldiers and pirates alike, creating such a commotion?

 

The allied army of eight thousand disciples, led by Governor Zhao Juzhen, Li Shuo, and other leaders, were rendered speechless with disbelief.

 

They had braced themselves for a desperate last stand, prepared to die, but the situation had abruptly and miraculously reversed.

 

What was going on? They were more perplexed than Liu Hong, a member of the Whale Gang, or Mao Ziyuan, of the White Lotus Society; their minds simply couldn’t process it.

 

…

 

Daoist Han Shan took a deep breath, calming his trembling heart, and turned his gaze toward the suspicious areas within the allied army’s encampment.

 

He finally discovered what was amiss.

 

Not far from the two armies’ encampment, a new grave had been erected on a nearby earth mound. The soil was fresh, the stele newly carved; it had clearly been raised just this afternoon.

 

The inscription read: “Grave of Fei Xingchou!”

 

No one would take the leisure to erect a new grave while in the midst of a heated battle.

 

Beside the grave of Fei Xingchou, a Medicine King Group blue-clad disciple sat cross-legged on the ground, rising to his feet to cast a detached gaze upon him, Liu Hong, and the vast army of pirates…it felt like observing a group of corpses, remarkably jarring.

 

The detached-looking Medicine King Group young disciple rose to his feet and began to walk, his steps deliberate.

 

A few steps brought him to the front lines, between the two armies.

 

Daoist Han Shan’s eyes narrowed with a chilling realization.

 

He had once seen this young man in a plain robe while leading a joint military force to attack Misty Peak, the man cradling the corpse of a Heaven Falcon Group disciple, departing with Manager Liu, Han Shu, and other Heaven Falcon Group disciples. He hadn’t noticed anything special about him, nor had he given him a second thought.

 

Now, the young man stood before him again, and still, he couldn’t sense his cultivation.

 

The young man possessed a formidable Divine Sense, one so powerful he couldn’t even perceive it!

 

This meant that the young man in plain robes was stronger than he, a martial arts Grandmaster at his peak… he was surely no ordinary mortal, but a true immortal.

 

An immortal—the realm he dreamed of!

 

Daoist Han Shan’s heart trembled, his face already pale and drained, as if the air had been sucked out of him.

 

Facing such an immortal cultivation being, his Divine Sense control far surpassed that of a martial arts Grandmaster, solidifying into something tangible. Every fire talisman he threw was seized, only hastening his demise.

 

“I didn’t realize there was another pride of the heavens in the Wu Region. It’s my failing, my arrogance.” He paused. “Why didn’t you simply unleash those five fire talismans and kill me then?”

 

Daoist Han Shan seemed to age ten years in an instant, letting out a sigh.

 

“I have a few more words left to say. Perhaps the Daoist doesn’t remember someone like me, but I’ve owed the Daoist gratitude for over ten years. Therefore, I can’t let the Daoist die without knowing why, without closure.”

 

“And you are?”

 

Daoist Han Shan questioned, his voice laced with confusion.

 

Su Chen bowed slightly toward Daoist Han Shan and said, “Seventeen years ago, you diagnosed my illness and gave my parents a prescription that saved my life. The name Chen was also chosen with your help.”

 

“Oh, fisherman’s boy, Su Chen.”

 

Daoist Han Shan seemed to recall, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

 

Seventeen years ago, during that stormy night, a pair of fishermen knelt outside the Han Mountain Daoist Temple gates, pleading for three days and three nights.

 

At that time, he had only recently become Abbot of Han Mountain, so he often oversaw the temple’s operations.

 

The people of Gusu City had heard tales of his divine abilities, and countless individuals came seeking his aid.

 

He simply didn’t have the time to attend to them all.

 

However, he later heard that this child had been afflicted with a peculiar condition—a flow of azure stone tears—truly rare and unprecedented. Healers throughout the city could not diagnose the cause, and so they sought the Daoist temple, hoping for a miracle.

 

He was briefly intrigued and ventured out to take a look.

 

After examining him, he saw nothing of particular significance; he only knew that it was a rare condition leading to an early death, unlikely to sustain him for more than a few years. Such congenital afflictions were bizarre and strange; they were all early death maladies, beyond saving.

 

He didn’t dare to say he couldn’t diagnose it, so he excused himself by claiming it was heaven’s hate and that replenishing one’s primordial energy with ginseng might save him for a time. As for whether it would actually save him, that depended on the will of the heavens. Fisherfolk are often impoverished, and few could afford to buy ginseng. If he couldn’t be saved, he wouldn’t be blamed for speaking falsely.

 

He had carefully studied those two pieces of azure stone. He ground them into powder and instructed a disciple, Qinghe, to ingest them to observe the effects. The next day, Qinghe’s complexion turned yellow, as if he had aged a year or two overnight.

 

Suspecting that the azure stone was a stone of fatal illness, he ceased all contact with it.

 

“So it’s you, this unfortunate fisherman’s boy! It was a condition leading to an early death, beyond saving; even I am powerless. In truth, I merely spoke at random, and it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. I never expected that seventeen years have passed, and you’re still alive—you truly possess great vitality. It’s just that I find it odd; being a poor fisherman’s son, how did you become so fortunate, achieving the envy of the world as a cultivator?”

 

Daoist Han Shan gazed at Su Chen, sighing deeply.

 

Su Chen offered a respectful bow and said, “Thanks to your Daoist’s words, I’m still alive. Your words were perhaps unintentional, but they were a life-saving blessing.

 

“From a young age, I often heard my parents speak of Daoist’s kindness. Every time I passed by Han Mountain Daoist Temple, I thought about how to repay that favor. A drop of kindness is easy enough to return, but this life-saving debt, I didn’t know how to repay it. Three years ago, I inadvertently discovered Qinghe colluding with pirates and the utterly corrupt Ding Shisan. Daoist was deeply loved by the people of Gusu City; this was a disgrace to Daoist. I flew into a rage and secretly entered his room to gather evidence of his dealings with the pirates so he wouldn’t tarnish Daoist’s reputation.

 

“Unexpectedly, I found a strange book, and out of curiosity, I thought to punish Daoist Qinghe a bit and took it with me. Little did I know, it was Daoist’s cultivating book, and as a result, Qinghe was punished and lost an arm. I was frightened and didn’t dare go back to the Daoist temple, and even more, didn’t dare see Daoist.

 

“I’m telling you this, Daoist, so you may die without regrets!”

 

“You’re the one who stole the immortal book?!”

 

Daoist Han Shan was stunned, and the frustration in his heart nearly made him spit blood.

 

No wonder his five direct disciples searched the entire Wu Region and couldn’t find that copy of the Wanderer’s Journey’s Mayfly Chapter. It turned out to be in Su Chen’s hands, who could inexplicably become an immortal cultivation practitioner.

 

“Quickly, join forces and kill him! Retrieve the ancestral immortal book!”

 

Daoist Han Shan was anxious and snapped his fingers; a genuine Golden Warrior Talisman appeared and landed on his body, transforming him into a golden armored warrior shining with golden light. In his hand, he held three different talismans.

 

He alone couldn’t be Su Chen’s match; only the three great Grandmaster working together might have a chance.

 

Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan were already suspicious, knowing that this mysterious young man before them would be their most terrifying enemy, and they were just waiting for Daoist Han Shan to give the order to attack.

 

“Folding Fan Slash!”

 

Liu Hong’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately flicked the iron folding fan in his hand.

 

Like a crescent-shaped blade, filled with potent True Qi, it whooshed towards Su Chen to kill him.

 

Clang!

 

The iron folding fan flew mid-air, abruptly disintegrating into eighteen flying blades, each blade coated with potent poison. Like a whirlwind of flashing blades, like an expansive net, they spun toward Su Chen.

 

“Kill!”

 

The leader of the White Lotus Society, Mao Ziyuan, roared urgently, and twenty to thirty White Lotus thugs surged from the front lines, brandishing large knives and charging toward Su Chen.

 

Su Chen let out a cold chuckle, his palms enveloped in a layer of cyan light, and he snatched at the air before him.

 

The eighteen flying blades were all drawn into his palms, containing a hint of spiritual power, and with a flick of his hand, they were sent back.

 

Pfft!

 

The White Lotus thugs were poisoned by the flying blades, collapsing to the ground one by one.

 

Seeing a blade shoot towards him, Liu Hong’s expression changed drastically. He slapped his palm against his mount, springing back, but he let out a pained cry from his chest; the blade pierced his chest armor and protective True Qi, and he fell to the ground.

 

Vice Leader Li Biao hastily caught Liu Hong, frantically pulling out a medicine bottle and forcing several antidote pills into Liu Hong’s mouth. He dragged Liu Hong toward the pirates’ rear army.

 

Su Chen’s expression was cold and aloof as he strode forward, intent on killing the three leaders of the pirates’ allied forces.

 

“Quickly, protect the leader!”

 

The leader of the White Lotus Society, Mao Ziyuan, shouted, and dozens more leaders and first-rate experts of the White Lotus Society cried out their faith in the leader, recklessly charging from the front lines and converging on Su Chen.

 

“Go!”

 

Su Chen’s expression was indifferent, with a mere flick of his hand.

 

Around the grassland, several thin leaves lifted into the air, each radiating a verdant glow, sharp as flying knives slicing through the air.

 

In the blink of an eye, dozens of peak first-rate pirate captains were instantly slain, unable to withstand him in the slightest.

 

“Halt! Soldiers arrive at a critical moment; they all stand at the front lines. Immortal weapons descend, aiding this master in slaying the fiend!”

 

Mao Ziyuan, head of the White Lotus Society, saw Su Chen advancing relentlessly, and he panicked, hastily retrieving a large handful of bean soldiers from a cloth pouch around his waist and scattering them before the pirates’ formation.

 

Boom!

 

Before the pirates’ formation, a cloud of white smoke billowed up.

 

Within the smoke, dozens of expressionless, hulking warriors erupted from the ground, each powerfully built and radiating a divine light in their eyes, rushing toward Su Chen in a surrounding advance.

 

“Huh, bean soldiers? What sort of demonic art is this?”

 

Su Chen was somewhat surprised, becoming more cautious.

 

This was not among the spiritual art documented in Daoist Han Shan’s immortal book. Could it be that Mao Ziyuan’s methods of the White Lotus Society had another origin entirely?!

 

Daoist Han Shan cast a talisman upon himself and brandished several talismans—the Earth Prison talisman and the Quicksand talisman—together with the hulking warriors, advancing towards Su Chen.

 

He dared not use the fire talisman; that would be a path to certain death. Even a practitioner’s skills could not deal with Su Chen; he could only hope that his remaining talisman could restrain Su Chen, this individual who had only recently attained immortal cultivation. And these few talismans required close proximity to be effective in restraining an enemy.

 

“Wood Arrow!”

 

Su Chen raised his hand, his tone chilling.

 

A powerfully imbued wood arrow, its predatory verdant glow swallowing and spitting, condensed in mid-air, and launched toward Daoist Han Shan one hundred and fifty meters away.

 

“You’re proficient in spiritual arts!”

 

Daoist Han Shan gasped in astonishment.

 

The power of spiritual arts wasn’t necessarily stronger than a talisman, but it didn’t require him to spend decades painstakingly searching for spiritual materials across the lands—using it wouldn’t hurt his pockets.

 

He couldn’t dodge it and was blasted away by the wooden arrow, flying over three hundred meters. Cracks appeared across his golden armor, quickly disintegrating.

 

Daoist Han Shan’s face turned ashen from the wooden arrow’s tremendous force, almost spitting blood. He was shocked and reluctantly released a Golden Warrior Talisman for protection.

 

Bang!

 

Daoist Han Shan was struck by another wooden arrow, the Golden Warrior Talisman shattered once more, and he was sent flying over a hundred meters, landing in front of the pirate army, coughing up blood.

 

Su Chen now had no choice but to confront the hulking brutes surrounding him.

 

A flash of green light slashed toward the powerful warriors. Yet, the green light passed right through them, effortlessly shattering the brutes as if they were mere bubbles.