Chapter 447: Snatching the Opportunity
Chapter 447: Snatching the Opportunity
The next problem was how to open the folding screen.
Mo Hua fell into deep thought.
Typically, folding screens were spiritual artifacts imbued with array formations. Disrupting the formation would disable the artifact, rendering the screen ineffective.
However, Mo Hua had no idea what kind of formation was painted on the screen, nor did he know the intricate weave of the formation's lines that would enable him to unravel it.
"If I can't unravel it, then I might as well destroy it," he mused. He considered using a reverse spirit array to disrupt the formation's structure, destroy its eye, and cause it to self-destruct.
At this point, he didn't need to worry about being discovered. Whether the screen remained or not was irrelevant, and a little brute force wouldn't hurt.
Once the formation self-destructed, the screen would be damaged. This might cause the opening in the screen to reveal itself.
Alternatively, it could seal the secret chamber, preventing anyone from entering.
The best-case scenario was that the formation would be destroyed, causing the screen to lose its empowerment and become ineffective, thus opening the chamber. That way, he could sneak in and take everything with him.
The worst that could happen was that the screen would self-destruct, sealing the chamber and leaving no way in.
If he couldn't get in, then Zhang Quan wouldn't be able to either.
This meant that the corpse-controlling bell and the contemplation diagram would be trapped inside.
It didn't matter if he couldn't get in.
But if Zhang Quan was denied access, he would lose the bell, and without it, he wouldn't be able to control the iron corpse, significantly weakening his power.
Without the iron corpse, the Zombie Clan would be devoid of their foundational cultivators, making them easy prey.
No matter how he looked at it, the situation favored him.
With no more hesitation, Mo Hua began to tamper with the formation on the screen.
As he painted the first Reverse Spirit Array, the formation on the screen flashed with blue light, and the spiritual energy began to fluctuate wildly. The formation emitted an earsplitting sound before it collapsed, and the screen dimmed slightly.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up, and he continued to paint the reverse spirit arrays.
With each array he painted, a formation was destroyed.
The ink on the screen gradually faded.
By the time Mo Hua had destroyed all the formations, the ink on the entire screen had faded away, leaving only a grayish mess.
Mo Hua frowned.
Had he solved it, or had he ruined it? He scanned it with his spiritual sense and found that the screen had indeed lost its power, and the barrier at the entrance was gone.
However, the illusion created by the ink remained.
Mo Hua took out the Thousand-pound Rod and started pounding the screen wildly.
He battered the already old screen until it was in tatters.
The screen let out a creaking sound, as if it were wailing, and then it completely disintegrated, dissipating the ink image and revealing the opening to the secret chamber, along with the altar inside.
Mo Hua breathed a sigh of relief and, with a joyful heart, stepped inside.
The atmosphere in the chamber was even more gloomy.
On the altar, laid with golden yellow silk, green candles flickered eerily.
The blood bell, white bones, and coffin were all present.
And on the altar, amidst the burning incense, was the portrait of the Zhang family's ancestor.
Mo Hua lowered his gaze, avoiding the portrait, and quickly picked out the copper bells that had been refined with fresh blood from the iron bowl, placing them into his storage bag.
Then he proceeded to search the chamber, taking anything of value—spirit stones, offerings, spiritual artifacts, items with formations, unusual origins, or mysterious purposes that he couldn't quite understand. He stripped the chamber bare.
Lastly, he turned his attention to the portrait of the ancestor.
Mo Hua narrowed his eyes, trying his best not to look at it, as he carefully removed the painting, intending to stuff it into his storage bag.
But as his fingers touched the portrait, a chilling divine sense suddenly intruded into Mo Hua's sea of consciousness.
A voice, ancient yet clear, seemed to whisper in his ear:
"Boy... your bones are extraordinary..."
"You have a remarkable talent..."
"I shall bestow upon you an opportunity... to help you become immortal..."
"Look at me..."
"You..."
This voice, illusory and enticing, lured Mo Hua to gaze upon the painting.
At the same time, the figure in the painting began to change, the skin slowly rotting as if it were about to break free from the canvas.
Mo Hua sensed his spiritual sense stagnating and quickly entered a meditative state, calming his mind and dispelling the stray thoughts. In an instant, his mind was clear once more.
Having regained his wits, Mo Hua waved his left hand, toppling the altar.
He then grabbed the portrait of Zhang Quan's ancestor and tore it from the wall, letting it fall to the ground.
Picking up the incense burner, iron bowl, candlestick, and a bunch of other items, he smashed them onto the portrait, and then, for good measure, gave it a couple of stomps.
The portrait immediately ceased its antics...
Mo Hua coldly huffed.
"Still trying to scheme against me?"
"I won't fall for the same trick twice!"
Seeing that the portrait had quieted down, Mo Hua folded it, crumpled it randomly, and stuffed it into his storage bag.
Wasting no time, Mo Hua made a quick escape. Without any hesitation, he took several long strides, leaving the altar, then leaped onto the rafters, unraveling the formation with ease before effortlessly fleeing from Zhang Quan's secret chamber...
At this very moment, Zhang Quan still remained oblivious to what had transpired.
He stood outside the outer wall of the Zombie Clan's fortress, staring at the formations before him, his eyes filled with disbelief.
The formations were completely ruined!
Some had become ineffective, some were destroyed, and some had short-circuited and self-destructed when they were activated.
Why? How did they break?
Just a couple of days ago, all the formations were still intact.
But in less than two days, every formation in the Zombie Clan's fortress had been destroyed, as if an entire layer of protection had been peeled away. Who did this?
Who could have such extraordinary abilities to ruin all the formations in his fortress in such a short time?
Was it a formation master? But in Nan Yue City, which formation master possessed such remarkable skills?
Zhang Quan was both shocked and furious. He shouted sternly, "Go and invite Mister Yan over immediately!"
A zombie cultivator stammered, "M-Mister Yan... he can't come over..."
Zhang Quan glared at him, his voice cold, "What about the others?"
"Mister Yan's room... it's sealed. We... we can't open it..." the zombie cultivator replied nervously.
Zhang Quan's eyes turned icy, "Take me there."
Soon, Zhang Quan arrived at Yan Jiao Xi's room.
The room was splattered with marks, bearing signs of impact, but the door remained tightly shut.
It seemed that someone had reinforced the formation from the inside, making the walls impenetrable from the outside.
Zhang Quan's eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he struck out with his palm, slamming it onto the door.
The door cracked, but Zhang Quan's palm also went numb from the impact.
Zhang Quan's expression turned grave.
Who set up this formation? A mere first-rate formation, yet so resilient?
Zhang Quan exerted all his strength, channeling his spiritual energy. His palm wind howled, and his might rippled continuously. It took him a full half an incense stick's worth of time to finally break through the door.
As the door shattered, Zhang Quan fixed his gaze on the interior.
There wasn't a single person inside.
Not only that, but the room was also completely empty, with all items cleared out.
This Yan fellow had actually escaped?
"Formation masters are nothing but trouble!" Zhang Quan seethed, his teeth clenched in anger. His mind was in chaos, his thoughts a tangled mess.
How did this Yan fellow escape?
Did he escape on his own, or did someone come to his rescue? Who rescued him? And how?
Did this Yan fellow tamper with the formations in the Zombie Clan's fortress?
Was he colluding with outsiders, plotting to destroy the Zombie Clan from within? Now that his scheme has been exposed, he has fled to avoid punishment.
Or was there someone acting in the shadows...
Zhang Quan's heart skipped a beat as a realization struck him.
In the shadows...
The Invisibility Art?
The only person he knew who could sneak in undetected, evading even a Foundation Establishment cultivator's spiritual sense, was that little brat!
Zhang Quan's brows furrowed, but soon he shook his head, feeling that something was amiss.
The Zombie Clan's fortress had the Revealing Dust Formation. That little brat shouldn't have been able to infiltrate it...
"Wait a minute," Zhang Quan suddenly shook his head, his thoughts racing.
"This Yan fellow had treacherous intentions, and the Revealing Dust Formation he set up must have had flaws. It probably couldn't stop that little brat!"
It was even possible that the two of them were in cahoots!
Zhang Quan's anger surged, and his heart pounded violently.
Invisibility... Invisibility...
His expression turned ashen, "The altar!"
Zhang Quan suddenly recalled that if Mo Hua had indeed sneaked in using invisibility, then everything he did might have been witnessed.
Including the ritual he performed to activate the bell!
Zhang Quan pushed his movement technique to its limit, and in no time, he returned to his room.
The lock on the door was intact, and the formation was undamaged.
Zhang Quan breathed a sigh of relief. However, when he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he saw the tattered remains of the folding screen.
Zhang Quan's legs turned soft, and he nearly lost his balance.
It's over!
His steps faltered as he entered the secret chamber, and his entire body went numb as he took in the scene before him.
The chamber was in disarray.
The altar had been toppled, and incense ash was scattered everywhere.
The candles had gone out, and the iron candlestick lay overturned.
Zhang Quan trembled as he lowered his head, frantically searching the ground, but no matter how much he looked, he couldn't find it.
The refined copper bell was gone...
Zhang Quan looked up again.
The portrait of his ancestor was also missing...
Zhang Quan's anger surged, his blood boiling, and he roared hoarsely, "Where's my corpse-controlling bell?!"
"Where's my ancestor?!!!"
(End of Chapter)
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