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Chapter 467: The Meng Clan's Destiny
Chapter 467: The Meng Clan's Destiny
In Stone Horse Town, the common folk, unaware of what had transpired, felt a connection as they were influenced by the Grass Head Eight Decay God. Though they couldn't see how it happened, they sensed in the depths of their consciousness that the divine general riding the stone horse, like a true deity, was patrolling the town, wielding his divine weapon.
One by one, the plague spirits causing trouble were slain by the blade, wailing in agony but powerless to resist, their heads severed.
With each death, the oppressive pressure above their heads lessened, and by the time all eight ghosts were killed, the town's atmosphere became refreshing.
Cheers erupted, nearly overflowing from the town.
In an inn within the town, an old abacus-wielding man, clutching a small flag, sat on the stairs, observing the changes outside, his face turning pale. His lips trembled as he finally couldn't hold back, leaping up and throwing the flag to the ground.
"Damn it! I miscalculated!"
"That damnable founder didn't even give me a hint. I should have calculated ten times the interest for him..."
"..."
"What's going on?"
Not only was the old abacus-wielder shocked, but countless others in the town were as well.
Inside the inn, Elder Sun and others could sense the astonishing changes in the town, aware of when danger was present and when it subsided, yet they couldn't understand what was happening outside.
It was as if they heard fighting, knew that something related to their lives was occurring, but couldn't grasp what it was or pay attention to the details—how they lost or won.
Even Elder Sun's prized 'Ground Listening' ability couldn't discern what was happening outside.
Moreover, since Hu Ma had lit the fire basin to conceal himself, they didn't know who had dealt with the Grass Head Eight Decay God. Could it be the legendary old general?
The least confused were the town's commoners, who didn't overthink the situation: "It's the legendary old general..."
"They always say the old general has a spirit. Now that there's a plague spirit causing trouble, how could he not come to protect the people?"
"..."
Some people in the alley were startled by the commotion, while others found the situation far more terrifying than they had imagined.
"How is this possible?"
In the town, there were also a troupe leader, a grandfather carrying a little girl to see the lantern festival, a jar-balancing performer, a horse and mule trader, a palanquin bearer carrying a master up the mountain with his upper body exposed, and a fortune-teller wandering the streets. Their expressions were all peculiar.
"Eight... eight of them were killed?"
"..."
"..."
The most excited was Hu Ma's blade, which was brimming with malice. Fresh from the forge, it had already claimed a life, but Hu Ma had stopped it. He hadn't expected that after following him out, the blade would immediately receive a blood sacrifice.
After killing the first Meng Clan spirit bearer, the blade was filled with malicious energy and excitement, craving more. Then, following Hu Ma, it killed the second spirit bearer, becoming even more excited.
But then came the third, fourth, and fifth...
No...
...The blade was stunned. Had life become this easy?
Each spirit bearer was of the highest rank, unlike those who had served as human candles. They had cultivated their skills, and most importantly, they held plaques, each containing a Grass Head Eight Decay God.
The scorching blood splattered onto the blade, and after shattering the plaques, a torrent of dark energy surged forth, enveloping the blade.
What did it mean to sacrifice a blade? According to legend, the most sinister method of blade sacrifice involved using a living person. The higher the person's destiny, the more vicious the blade would become.
But was this true?
Living people?
Not even dogs would suffice! Instead, the blade was being sacrificed with the lives of eight high-table guests, right there on the case!
Amidst these subtle changes, the blade underwent an invisible transformation. When it killed the first person, blood splattered everywhere. With the second, the blood formed an aesthetically pleasing shape. By the third, blood gushed out several feet high.
But when it killed the eighth, the blood blossoms exploded, yet when Hu Ma raised the blade to inspect it, there wasn't a drop of blood on it.
The blood from the killings had vanished, as if secretly absorbed by something...
"This is good. I won't have to clean the blade after killing anymore..."
After slaying eight people, Hu Ma gradually slowed his horse, taking a deep breath. His aura became more robust, and his divine soul seemed to swell, leaving him with a feeling of unfulfilled excitement.
...
...
"How is this possible?"
"What... what kind of demonic art was used?"
The town was filled with murderous intent, and Meng Jia Er Gongzi's expression was distorted. He shouted harshly, visibly trembling, his palms shaking, and his eyes bloodshot.
The changes were too rapid, and being twenty li away, he hadn't seen everything clearly. He had started to panic when the first high-table guest was beheaded, wanting to know what was happening. But suddenly, a surge of malevolent energy rose, engulfing half the sky.
Even his gaze was suddenly hit by the surging malice, causing his eyes to sting as if buffeted by waves of Yin Wind, relentlessly chasing from the direction of the town. To see clearly, he had to endure this Yin Wind.
But when he finally looked over, he saw that in the Stone Horse Town, everything had already concluded. The Grass Head Eight Decay Gods were nowhere to be found, not a single one remaining.
However, for Meng Jia Er Gongzi at this moment, this outcome wasn't even the most terrifying part. The most frightening aspect was that this result had unfolded before his eyes, yet he didn't even know how it had happened, nor could he fathom how it could have occurred.
In just this short span of one or two days, there had already been too many unexpected events, leaving him perplexed and deeply uneasy.
Earlier, in the town, someone had accepted his bow, which was something he couldn't possibly accept. But that matter could be explained by the fact that the other party didn't know who he was, and since they were neither rebellious nor defiant, they dared to accept his bow.
After all, if they were truly rebels attempting to overthrow the imperial authority, they might have accepted his bow...
...It wasn't that they truly accepted it, but that they had planted the seeds of future trouble, waiting for the right time to retaliate.
But now, it was different. There was indeed such a formidable presence in the town, attracting that overwhelming malice, and in the blink of an eye, they had taken action, slaying the Grass Head Eight Decay Gods?
Impossible! Where did these demons get such heavy malice? This level of malice was on par with the Five Sins Gods of Zhen Cui Fu, but even they had been killed by the Hu Clan in Bright Province...
"Heh..."
Hearing the angry shout of Meng Jia Er Gongzi beside him, his temper was so fierce that those around him trembled. In contrast, the Year-End Guardian, Tie Jun, sitting cross-legged on the ground, merely smirked, opening his eyes slightly to glance at the timing incense stuck in the ground before him, then closing them again.
The incense still had a bit of fire left, and there was still a little time before midnight.
He still had to stand guard, continuing to wait.
The Meng Clan had risen from humble beginnings as spirit bearers, unexpectedly seizing great fortune and attaining the prestigious status of the Ten Surnames. But what did this Ten Surname, the Meng Clan, mean to the other nine clans? Did the other nine clans respect the Meng Clan?
The answer was, of course, affirmative. Not a single clan would say they didn't respect the Meng Clan.
But while everyone respected the Meng Clan, they wouldn't marry into it. In the past, the Meng Clan had an outstanding young man who wanted to marry the fourth young miss of the Lifesaving Zhou Clan's third branch.
The result was that the fiery-tempered fourth young miss set fire to the house and even tried to burn down the ancestral shrine. The Zhou Clan members rushed to stop her, their faces pale with shock. The fourth young miss glared at her parents, asking: "You enjoy your blessings while alive, but you want to send me to suffer in the Netherworld?"
"..."
After that incident, the Lifesaving Zhou Clan never dared to bring it up again. The Meng Clan had lost face and didn't dare visit again.
As the Year Guard Dao official, he could only respect the Meng Clan. Just now, he had heard about the methods the Meng Clan was preparing to deal with the Hu Clan, and he couldn't help but feel deeply apprehensive about their abilities. This skill was indeed formidable.
But as for this Spirit Nourishing Art...
He smirked inwardly, opening his eyes slightly before closing them again, too lazy to look any further.
Meng Jia Er Gongzi didn't realize that he had already been looked down upon by the Year-End Guardian, but those around him, seeing his anger, fell silent, not daring to speak up. This only made his heart more agitated, his face dark and eerie, his anger seeming to burst from his chest: "Bring the flag!"
"..."
The personal maid beside him dared not delay, quickly bringing out a black flag and planting it by his side. She then hurriedly presented a tray with an incense stick on it.
Meng Jia Er Gongzi grabbed the incense, knelt down, and slowly bowed several times towards the flag, causing gusts of Yin Wind to surge.
"Is this for real?"
The Iron Horse Magistrate beside him was also startled: "The Meng Clan has started bowing, the situation is serious..."
"The Meng Clan, born as spirit bearers, rose to prominence through kneeling and bowing..."
"..."
"A big horse trapped in a small mud pit, a gatekeeper ghost playing with the gods..."
After several bows, Meng Jia Er Gongzi's face was filled with darkness, his gaze fixed on the direction of Stone Horse Town: "You hide your head and show your tail, daring to deceive me. Today, you'll see the true capabilities of the Meng Clan!"
With a roar filled with the intent to vent his anger, he drew a silver dagger and slashed it down, cutting a vivid gash on his left palm. Fresh blood splattered, spraying onto the flag beside him.
The next moment, this heavy-looking flag, which seemed impossible to be blown by the wind, suddenly fluttered, stirring up gusts of Yin Wind.
(End of Chapter)
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