112: A Fierce Clash

Gezao Mountain is a prominent sect in the contemporary world, renowned throughout the cultivation community for its mastery of talismans. For thousands of years, it has stood as a rival to the Shangqing Sect, possessing a depth of heritage that is unfathomable. As disciples of Gezao Mountain, the two practitioners, Daoist Zuo and his companion, naturally possessed strength far beyond that of ordinary rogue cultivators.

Following a brief exchange, a few talismans forced Yi Fan to halt. Before he knew it, he found himself surrounded; dozens of talismans had been cast in a circle, sealing off every direction. Unless he could fly through the heavens or burrow into the earth, he had no choice but to break through by force.

Yi Fan made a swift decision. With a flip of his hand, he unleashed four or five "Palm Thunder" strikes. In an instant, lightning flashed and tore through the void as if summoned from thin air.

"Audacious!"

Daoist Zuo and his companion were shocked and enraged. They had not expected this young Daoist to be so bold. In their haste to roll away, the lightning only grazed them, yet it still blasted several deep craters into the ground.

Yi Fan could not let such an opportunity slip. His palms burned with heat as he cast "Palm Thunder" relentlessly, as if the energy were free. He shattered the talismans blocking his path, leaped forward, and prepared to flee.

Seeing Yi Fan’s attempt to escape, Daoist Zuo refused to let him succeed. No longer holding back, he drew a talisman token—made of a material that looked like gold but was not—from his waist. With a flick of his magic pouch, dozens of talismans transformed into feathered blades, raining down from the sky.

"Universe Locking Technique, Golden Talisman obey my command, Guard!"

Like disciplined soldiers, the dozens of talismans shifted abruptly. As they collided with the incoming lightning, the air erupted in flying sand and rolling stones, whipped up by a violent gale.

With the path cleared, the junior brother, Jia, lunged forward. In his hand was a whip that sparked with fire; with a single crack, a stream of flames several yards long lashed out at Yi Fan’s back.

"I was waiting for you."

Suddenly, Yi Fan, who had been fleeing, spun around. He drew his magic sword from somewhere, traced a circle in the air to deflect the incoming flames, and then swung his palm, unleashing a massive, overwhelming bolt of lightning.

Junior Brother Jia’s expression changed drastically. Unable to dodge, he mustered all his spiritual energy and summoned a black wooden disc. It landed on the ground, instantly sprouting countless vines to shield him.

*Boom!*

Wood splinters flew and flames erupted. Junior Brother Jia collapsed to the ground, charred and incapacitated. Though not dead, he stared intensely at Yi Fan. "You never intended to escape. You were luring me into an attack?"

Yi Fan was slightly surprised at how easily he had neutralized the Daoist. He let out a sigh of relief; he knew his own strength, which was merely at the first level of "Spirit Communion." If it were one-on-one, he might have a chance, but facing both at once, he would surely lose.

Daoist Zuo rushed over, shocked by how quickly his junior brother had been defeated. Suddenly sensing something, his expression shifted. He stared at Yi Fan and said, "The Heart Clearing Sutra? Are you a disciple of the Shangqing Sect?"

Realizing this, he could understand why Yi Fan was so young yet possessed such formidable cultivation. Only a great sect like the Shangqing Sect could produce such an outstanding disciple.

Yi Fan offered no explanation. Being mistaken for a Shangqing disciple was not the first time. His Heart Clearing Sutra was the fundamental technique of his own Daoist temple, and he was certainly no disciple of the Shangqing Sect.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached his ears. Yi Fan felt a jolt of alarm; he knew he could not linger. With one strike of his sword, he finished off the Daoist Jia. Then, he released nearly a hundred "Lesser Evil-Purging Talismans" from his pouch, which transformed into a river of paper that rolled toward Daoist Zuo.

"So you really are a Shangqing disciple. In that case, I cannot let you leave."

Daoist Zuo’s expression grew sinister. He pulled a talisman glowing with a faint, eerie light from his pouch, chanted a spell, and swallowed it.

In an instant, ghostly energy surged around Daoist Zuo. His eyes burned like hellfire as he roared, "Protector, where are you?"

Leaves fluttered as a figure in black robes descended. The entity was massive, wielding a heavy saber. It did not dodge the river of talismans but simply raised its blade, the light of the steel spinning in a defensive arc.

Within a few blinks of an eye, the torrent passed. The black-robed figure was revealed; its clothes had been shredded away, exposing a corpse-like body covered in painted talismans, with ghostly energy flowing through them in a grotesque display.

"Junior Brother Jia was inexperienced, having just left the sect. Being killed by you is no one else's fault."

Daoist Zuo stepped forward, his body swelling in size, surrounded by swirling ghostly vapors filled with the wails of tortured souls. He was in no hurry, staring at Yi Fan. "As for you, to have such cultivation at such a young age—the Shangqing Sect must be foolish to let you down the mountain. Since I have encountered you, today shall be your death day."

Despite his words, Daoist Zuo dared not act rashly. His junior brother was no weakling, and even he would have struggled to defeat him so quickly. Yet this young Daoist had killed him in a few rounds.

Not only was his cultivation strong, but his mind was sharp. Was he not afraid that if he failed to kill the junior brother, he would have been unable to escape himself?

*He is stalling for time.*

Yi Fan’s heart raced. The Daoist had clearly heard someone approaching rapidly. Weighing his options, he realized he had exhausted much of his energy and half the talismans in his pouch. He could not win this quickly, and if he were pinned down, the consequences would be dire.

Just then, Daoist Zuo moved like a phantom, coordinating with the corpse-like protector to attack from both sides, throwing Yi Fan’s preparations into disarray.

The pressure mounted instantly. Yi Fan repelled Daoist Zuo with several "Palm Thunder" strikes and leaped backward. Before the Daoist could pursue, he shouted, "Is Fang Chen your junior brother?"

Daoist Zuo froze, his body stalling for a split second. At that moment, a shrill, piercing scream echoed from not far away. Daoist Zuo’s soul felt a jolt, leaving him momentarily dazed.

In that singular instant, Yi Fan had already fled far into the distance. After pursuing for several miles, there was no sign of him left.

Daoist Zuo returned to the scene, staring at the corpse of his junior brother with a shifting expression. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "I calculated everything, but I never accounted for this Daoist being the murderer of Junior Brother Fang Chen. Rest in peace, Junior Brother; I will surely avenge you."

Just then, several people arrived rapidly through the woods. It was General Zhang, who was supposed to have left, dragging along the people who had been left behind to seek revenge.

General Zhang approached and looked at the corpse of the junior brother. Shocked, he asked, "Daoist Zuo, what happened here?"

He had heard the thunder and the roars shortly after leaving and, feeling uneasy, had returned—but he was too late.

Daoist Zuo’s expression was dark. He lowered his head, lost in thought. After a moment, he rasped, "General Zhang, my two junior brothers were ambushed. One was unfortunately killed, and the culprit has escaped. Your matter will have to be postponed."

"Come closer, I have something to tell you."

"Oh? Daoist Zuo, please speak."

General Zhang hesitated. Seeing the black mist swirling around Daoist Zuo, he pondered for a moment before stepping closer, though he kept his distance and kept his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Daoist Zuo offered a silent, toothy grin. With a single flash, he was right in front of the General. His hand, as sharp as a sword, pierced through General Zhang’s chest. "What I wanted to tell you is that you know too much, and it is time for you to die."

Though General Zhang had been on guard, he had not expected Daoist Zuo to kill him. Disbelief washed over him, but the agony in his chest drove him to a frenzy. He drew his blade in a desperate strike, but it met only empty air.