Chapter 163: Where Did You Get That Murky Water Round Shield?

Chapter 163: Where Did You Get That Murky Water Round Shield?

In fact, the Divine Flame Cult’s operation wasn’t just pinning down the Wanhua Valley—the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion and Qingxiao Sect were also intercepted.

This large-scale mobilization targeted two objectives.

First, they aimed to use the Nine-Faction Nine-Heaven Demon Transformation Array in Luoyan Mountain to ambush a Golden Core Zhenren. The ideal target was either Yu Sha, a cultivator from Lizhou, or Mingyan Zhenren. Breaking Lizhou’s power balance could spark internal chaos. Even if no rebellion erupted, other Golden Core Zhenren rushing to aid would prioritize self-preservation, weakening their resolve in future conflicts.

Second, they planned to push the frontlines directly to Yuan Ci Peak, besieging and eradicating the Spirit Origin Sect. The Divine Flame Cult had prepared a secret technique to easily breach Wangyan Mountain’s barrier, squeezing remaining Spirit Origin Sect cultivators into northern Hezhou for gradual annihilation. Whether the two southern sects would pay a heavy price to rescue them remained uncertain.

The plan itself unfolded smoothly. Under pressure from the Soul Severing Needle and the Four Great Wanderers, all areas east of Wangyan Mountain—except Qingyang County—were under control.

But no one anticipated that Xiao Chen had already unearthed five formation disks by following the array blueprint.

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Dusk settled, distant mountains fading into indigo shadows. Standing atop a small hill, Xiao Chen watched the sunset vanish, his heart brimming with satisfaction. Since leaving Solitary Pine Ridge, he’d excavated three formation disks in just three hours, netting 300 middle-grade spirit stones—averaging ten thousand per hour. Though night fell, he resolved to locate the final disk before resting.

“But where did the other two wanderers go?”

Mid-flight, he noticed a distant campfire flickering on a mountainside, its glow stark against the dark. Approaching cautiously, he spotted a group of ten nearly naked female cultivators dancing provocatively around the flames. Nearby, dozens of cultivators knelt on the ground, while corpses of similar-clad men lay nearby.

All wore matching uniforms—clearly from a single clan. Their cultivation realms varied; some glared defiantly, others wept silently, and a few stared blankly. Only one Foundation Building cultivator lounged relaxedly on a large rock, watching the spectacle.

“Who’s there?”

Southern Wanderer sensed an unfamiliar spiritual pressure scanning the area, instantly alert. He rose, spotting a youth pressing a sword beam to shield the kneeling cultivators.

Recognizing the Donghua Wind Sword, his eyes narrowed. “Top-grade magic artifact—you’re Xiao Chen.”

“Hmph. Leaving Qingyang was your death sentence.” He smirked, “We needed a snack—your brains will do nicely.”

Though taunting Xiao Chen as a foolhardy target, Southern Wanderer acted swiftly. A seal formed in his palm, triggering agonized screams. The kneeling cultivators, implanted with secret fire-seed techniques, erupted in flames from their dantians, becoming human torches. The fire coalesced into a crude formation, flanking Xiao Chen alongside Southern Wanderer.

Not stopping there, Southern Wanderer hurled two talismans. One exploded midair, releasing fiery mana that summoned a Late Foundation Building Scarlet Flame Tiger. The other became a diamond-shaped magic shield orbiting him.

Fanning himself leisurely, he sneered, “Didn’t expect this, did you? I’ve prepared well. Challenging me over a few cultivators—let me teach you caution.”

With a flick, he unleashed a fire dragon from the rear formation while the Scarlet Flame Tiger lunged.

“Teach me caution? You’re the one who should fear.”

Xiao Chen remained unfazed. His left hand hurled the Treasure Gourd of Hidden Flame backward, swallowing the fire dragon, while his right threw the Murky Water Round Shield forward, blocking the tiger and dousing its flames.

“Murky Water Round Shield!” Southern Wanderer recoiled. “Where did you get that?!”

Xiao Chen drew two Flying Swords, smirking. “Top-grade artifacts are rare, aren’t they? Since you recognize the shield, guess how I obtained it.”

Southern Wanderer’s mind raced. Among the Four Wanderers, Northern Wanderer was weakest, followed by Dongfang Xingzhe. Though weaker than Western Wanderer, he and Dongfang were evenly matched. Confirming Dongfang’s demise chilled him.

Yet Southern Wanderer prided himself on caution. Activating a messenger arrow, he left a crimson beacon in the sky while hurling four talismans from his storage bag. To Xiao Chen’s surprise, they formed three layers of protective auras and an additional spirit shield.

“Shouldn’t I be the Black Tortoise-liked one? Never met a demonic cultivator this paranoid.”

Most demonic cultivators were young, but Southern Wanderer’s aged face hinted at a century of survival.

“Xiao Chen,” the elder called, “that beacon shines far at night. Flee now, or you’ll regret it.”

Xiao Chen glanced at the signal. “If this draws Western Wanderer, all the better—I won’t need to hunt him.”

Unfazed, he deployed the Lesser Trinity Sword Array to erode Southern Wanderer’s defenses, using the Treasure Gourd to dismantle the rear formation.

But Southern Wanderer’s reserves astounded him. The sword array besieged him for half an hour before his talismans depleted, swapping to a top-tier magic shield. He taunted relentlessly:

“Cultivator Xiao, mercy! Take 20,000 spirit stones and leave!”

Whether from repetition or the beacon’s effect, a sword beam soon streaked in the distance.

“Hah! Xiao Chen, our leader arrives!” Southern Wanderer crowed.

In Foundation Building duels, numbers mattered. Top-grade artifacts drained mana rapidly—Xiao Chen had activated six, far beyond ordinary limits. Even with the Tasselled Edging Brocade Handkerchief conserving mana, he’d neared his threshold.

Western Wanderer’s arrival tilted the battle. If Xiao Chen withdrew his array, he’d face dual attacks.

Southern Wanderer calculated: “Advantage—mine!”

Indeed, Xiao Chen’s mana reserves had dwindled to 36 strands—barely enough for one more top-grade artifact. But he’d spent Spirit Herbs and learned countless spells for this moment.

While he preferred the sword array for simplicity, today demanded more. As the distant sword beam neared, he intercepted it mid-air.

Western Wanderer arrived, furious. He’d guarded the formation disk for two days without spotting any Orthodox Dao cultivators. Leaving briefly, he’d raided two minor clans for Spirit Herbs and stones.

Due to retrieving the refinement storage bag and forcibly breaking through the family’s defensive formation, the Western Wanderer had lost precious time.

When he returned, he discovered his carefully buried formation disk had vanished without a trace. Even the array’s foundation stones had been shattered by a Flying Sword, leaving the site in ruins.

The Western Wanderer’s heart sank. This mission had been personally entrusted by Qianhong Zhenren—failure was unthinkable. If his negligence jeopardized the Holy Sect’s plans, even surviving his return to the Spirit Origin Sect would not spare him Qianhong Zhenren’s wrath.

Yet he couldn’t fathom how this had happened. The Divine Flame Cult had absolute control over a radius of three hundred miles—how dare someone infiltrate their territory to sabotage his formation?

Consumed by panic and rage, he immediately launched into a search. As the Southern Wanderer had earlier warned, the crimson distress beacon now blazing in the night sky was impossible to miss. The Western Wanderer soon spotted the anomaly and rushed to the scene.

From afar, he saw the Southern Wanderer trapped within a sword array, and a young man standing calmly between them.

“Who are you?” the Western Wanderer snarled, his complexion darkening. “Did you steal my formation disk?”

Xiao Chen raised a finger, shaking it with a smirk. “No, no, you’ve got it wrong. First, that formation disk was just lying there—can you really call that stealing? Second, your eyesight’s worse than I thought if you can’t recognize me.”

Before he could continue, the Southern Wanderer roared, “Boss, this brat’s Xiao Chen! Help me—he’s trapped me in this cursed sword array!”

The Western Wanderer sneered. “So it’s you. I haven’t come for you yet, and you dare provoke me? I’ve clearly been too lenient.”

He whipped out a pitch-black Divine Flame Summoning Banner embroidered with a deep-blue toad. With a single wave, a frigid gale erupted, instantly dropping the temperature tenfold. Frost blanketed the landscape, and even the air’s spiritual energy seemed to freeze.

Xiao Chen flicked his sleeve, releasing twenty-seven Scarlet Clouds. The crimson flames erupted, forming a barrier against the cold. He had no rush—let the sword array deal with the Southern Wanderer first.

“Hmph. Not bad,” the Western Wanderer muttered, tossing a talisman that exploded into a blizzard. Swinging the banner again, he sent a second wave of cold, this time laced with razor-sharp snowflakes that sliced toward Xiao Chen like daggers. The Scarlet Clouds shredded instantly, their glow snuffed out.

The Western Wanderer followed up with a flick of his wrist, sending a Soul Severing Needle hidden among the ice shards. Xiao Chen frowned, activating a Nahuuo Talisman at his chest. A torrent of fiery energy erupted, vaporizing the snow into thick white mist. He caught the needle between his fingers, snapping it in two.

The Western Wanderer’s shock quickly turned to a smirk. Xiao Chen’s clumsy defense revealed his inexperience. In a duel between equals, basic rules applied: never let your opponent dictate the battlefield, and retreat from ice spells to avoid disorienting fog. Yet Xiao Chen, supposedly from the Lihuo Sect, fought like a novice.

“This’ll be easier than I thought,” the Western Wanderer sneered. “Nine Secrets of Yellow Spring—Winter Toad!”

The banner transformed into a streak of light, merging with the mist. The fog congealed into a sixteen-zhang-tall blue toad, which inhaled violently, creating a vortex that sucked everything toward its gaping maw. Xiao Chen, standing at the mist’s edge, was pulled in first.

The Western Wanderer relaxed. No Foundation Building Late Stage cultivator had survived the Winter Toad’s belly—each turned to ice sculptures.

But as he began sealing the technique, the connection snapped. A crimson glow ignited inside the toad, turning it scarlet.

Boom!

The toad exploded, revealing Xiao Chen holding the Treasure Gourd of Hidden Flame, its Scarlet Flame Bombs spent. The gourd’s pre-stored energy had saved him time, mana, and amplified the blast in the confined space.

“Boss, help!” the Southern Wanderer screamed. His Magic Robe, riddled with sword qi, was seconds from shattering.

Xiao Chen blocked the way, unfazed. “Forcing me to use that move… you’ve earned your end.”

The Western Wanderer’s hesitation vanished. “You are all guilty! By the name of Yellow Spring Sovereign, I sentence you to eternal damnation in the Ice Mountain Hell!”

A spectral emperor crowned in yellow light emerged, raising a hand. A glacial peak materialized, drifting slowly toward Xiao Chen.

To onlookers, it seemed leisurely—dodgeable. Yet in the next breath, it was upon him.

The cold pierced souls. The Southern Wanderer, a hundred zhang away, shivered violently, his blood threatening to freeze. Even the Lesser Trinity Sword Array slowed.

The Western Wanderer hurled a dagger at Xiao Chen, expecting the ice to shatter.

Clang!

Xiao Chen caught it, smirking. “Why not rename your sect the Yellow Spring Path? Stealing others’ techniques as your trump card—originality’s not your strong suit.”

The Western Wanderer gaped. How could Xiao Chen resist the Ice Mountain Hell? Thirty years of cultivation, the technique that earned him the Four Great Wanderers’ top spot, praised even by Qianhong Zhenren as a false core-killer… yet Xiao Chen stood unscathed.

As the Southern Wanderer’s screams ended in a bloody mist, the Western Wanderer tried again. In vain.

Half an hour later, Xiao Chen pocketed both storage bags. The Divine Flame Cult’s Four Great Wanderers were no more. Without Foundation Building demons wielding Soul Severing Needles, the Spirit Origin Sect’s threat vanished.

He chuckled, plotting his next move. Retrieving the last formation disk and tallying his loot would be the final strokes in this rout of the Divine Flame Cult’s invasion.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end