Chapter 34: Executing the Plan
After bidding farewell to Mo Caihuan, Wen Buhuo stepped into the cold night of the Imperial Capital. The lingering warmth of the fireworks seemed to remain on his fingertips, but he forcibly suppressed that ripple of emotion into the depths of his heart.
The Lonely Cultivator: Buhuo’s Monologue
On his way back, Wen Buhuo instinctively touched the Invisibility Gauze and the thick stack of talismans in his robe. Every step he took was calculated with extreme caution; he avoided all brightly lit streets and even circled the Wang Estate twice before entering to ensure no demonic aura was tracking him. This prudence was etched into his very bones—in the cultivation world, those who live long are not necessarily the most talented, but they are certainly the ones who speak the least and hold the most trump cards.
Imperial Darkness: The Stalking Hunter
On the night of the operation, the Imperial Palace was shrouded in a deathly silence. Wen Buhuo crouched in the shadow of the palace walls, his breathing nearly nonexistent. Observing the patrolling soldiers in the distance, he frowned slightly. "Too simple. The guards are so lax—only mortals and a single Daoist Qing Wen? This doesn't fit the Bull Demon-Man's style. Is this an invitation into a trap?"
He gestured to Liu Jing and Song Meng, and the three of them glided past like ghosts.
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Clearing the Pawns: Wen Buhuo did not use his Gold-Flicker Blades, as the whistling sound of metal-attribute magical tools would be too loud in the stillness. With a flick of his fingers, several numbing needles pierced silently into the guards' necks; they slumped to the ground without a single groan.
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Confronting Qing Wen: When they reached the main hall, Daoist Qing Wen was sitting cross-legged, surrounded by an eerie blood-azure aura.
Fierce Battle and the Truth: The Freezing Point of Rage
The battle erupted instantly. Liu Jing rose with the wind, his hand seals shifting as fireballs and ice arrows rained down on Qing Wen. Song Meng's spear moved like a dragon, creating bursts of wind as he aimed for Qing Wen's vitals.
Wen Buhuo remained hidden in the shadows, the Gold-Flicker Mother-and-Son Blades circling him as he waited for a one-hit-kill opportunity. However, Daoist Qing Wen was exceptionally difficult to handle; with a wave of his hand, countless dark-red vines burst from the crevices of the floor tiles, weaving a dense defensive net.
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The Turn: Seeing Qing Wen retreat under the combined assault, he suddenly let out a sinister laugh and crushed a jade talisman with his left hand. A blood-red firework shot into the sky.
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Demonization: A warning bell rang in Wen Buhuo's mind. "Not good! He's stalling for reinforcements!"
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Blood-Clot Defense: Qing Wen let out a strange shriek as his body began to swell violently. His skin burst open, and he was wrapped in countless blood threads, transforming in an instant into a massive, hard, and foul-smelling lump of bloody flesh.
Wen Buhuo’s Mother Blade struck the mass, only to kick up a shower of sparks, leaving only shallow gouges. "What kind of bizarre physical density is this? Does demonization allow him to ignore Early Foundation Establishment magical tools?" Buhuo shouted anxiously, "Break that Blood Demon now! He is demonizing—once the form is complete, his strength will skyrocket!"
"Hahahaha!" Qing Wen's distorted voice echoed from within the blood mass. "Wen Buhuo... haven't you recognized me yet? Back when you were with that short-lived ghost Xu Ziling, I should have killed you! That fool never realized he was leading the way straight into hell. He died a miserable death; we feasted on his flesh... the taste was... tsk tsk."
"Xu Ziling..." Wen Buhuo's pupils constricted. The man who once guided him had died at the hands of these beasts. Usually the most stoic person, an uncontrollable killing intent surged within him. "Damnable wretches! Today, I shall ensure your soul is utterly extinguished!"
Liu Jing’s Trump Card: Sword Rain Execution
"Buhuo, Junior Brother Song, get back!" Liu Jing’s voice boomed like a great bell, carrying an unquestionable aura of righteousness.
Wen Buhuo looked up to see the sky suddenly covered by a layer of golden formation patterns. Liu Jing sat cross-legged in mid-air, his face pale; this move was clearly a massive strain on him.
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Grand Union of Ten Thousand Swords: With a roar from Liu Jing, countless light-swords made of pure energy fell from the patterns, relentlessly slamming into the blood mass. Every sword took away a charred piece of flesh.
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The Final Strike: Finally, thousands of light-swords converged in the air, condensing into a massive golden sword thirty feet long. Carrying the intent of divine judgment, it thrust straight toward the core of the blood mass.
Qing Wen’s voice finally turned into a scream of terror: "No!! Save me!!"
Rumble—!
Just as the giant sword was about to pierce the blood mass at the critical moment, a heaven-shaking bull's bellow echoed from deep within the palace. A blood-red shadow smashed through the palace roof like a meteorite, bracing itself directly in front of the giant sword.
It was the Bull Demon-Man! With his arms crossed and muscles appearing as if cast in pig iron, he actually blocked that massive golden sword with his bare hands.
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