Za za za, kuang dang!
Hundreds of zhang away, the young man and the rest of the horse caravan watched helplessly as the city gates closed and defensive formations activated automatically. The black-scaled horses instinctively slowed their pace when facing the hidden deadly formation, gradually coming to a stop.
Their hopes, joy, and encouragement instantly froze on their faces. Their eyes revealed indescribable despair and agony; no amount of numbness could conceal the emotional shift brought by this sudden reversal.
Wu wu wu!
Suddenly, eerie sounds came from behind them, resembling wolf howls and mournful cries. One sound heavier than the previous, one following another, shaking the heavens, countless in number.
The young man instinctively turned his head toward the horizon. He saw murky morning light mingling with swirling dark clouds and black mist, covering nearly half the sky.
Within them appeared to be countless tiny particles of smoke and dust, but as they drifted over a hundred miles away, the young man and others in the caravan saw more clearly: these were hordes of massive demonic spirits. Some had glaring red eyes that pierced the soul; some had tongues protruding, hanging over their chests; some had swollen bellies, their heads and limbs barely visible; some were shapeless masses of rotting flesh, with disordered limbs and hands; some were completely naked, their breasts large and shriveled like empty sacks; some had twin wings on their backs, seemingly capable of carrying entire lakes when spread.
Below them, the Nine Nether army surged across the land in swarms. Some bore dragon heads on horse bodies, spewing black flames; others had three heads and six arms, their entire forms a ghastly mix of dark green and black. Some flickered like smoke, vanishing and reappearing in the blink of an eye, while others gaped wide with maws full of jagged fangs, strands of flesh and trails of blood dripping from their jaws.
At a glance, they covered mountains and fields, blotting out the sky and sun, as if every blade of grass had transformed into soldiers. The young man felt as if he could see terrifying faces stretching toward him, drool dripping from their elongated mouths, faintly smelling the stench of blood and filth.
“Wu…” Terrified, he heard a mournful cry. The black-scaled horse beneath him had already been overwhelmed by the sight and aura, kneeling weakly. One after another, all the horses in the caravan knelt down, prostrating themselves on the ground, too frightened to move even slightly.
“It’s over…” The young man gazed at the true “demonic tide,” feeling his hands and feet go limp, utterly unable to muster the will to struggle.
They didn’t even need to lift a finger; a single demon spitting could drown them all!
Only now did he truly understand the terror and insignificance described in countless novels and tales—the extreme fear brought by the demonic tide and his own minuscule existence in the face of it.
“It’s over…” Many children inside the carriages had already forgotten how to cry from fear.
“They are doomed…” The out-of-body cultivators and Qi-opening experts atop the city wall sighed one after another, their eyes filled with compassion, feeling the same despair. If the city fell, their own families and friends would also await death hopelessly.
Therefore, the demonic tide was an eternal nightmare for anyone who had experienced it. Unfortunately, if they were lucky enough to escape death, they would often encounter the demonic tide multiple times in their lifetime. How could this not drive people to the brink of collapse, to despair, to numbness?
Bao Zhen, the city lord of Pingle City, stood on the city wall above the main gate, gazing into the distance at the demonic tide, silently estimating its intensity.
During the last demonic tide, he had suffered severe injuries and remained stuck at the Seventh Heaven stage, yet he was still one of the top figures in Pingle City.
“Is it Him?” Bao Zhen’s face was pale, as if drained of blood, but the strong heartbeat and the sound of blood rushing like a mighty river proved his robust vitality. At this moment, his expression slightly changed, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the farthest reaches of the demonic tide, as if facing a formidable enemy!
There seemed to be a small mountain in the distance, but upon closer inspection, one would realize the grayish-white rocks were actually muscles. The streams flowing beneath the dirt were ceaseless rivers of blood, dark green in color, eerily strange.
His head was the mountain peak, two deep cracks forming his eyes, his face filled with grooves, yet faintly revealing elasticity.
Dong dong dong!
The flesh mountain advanced step by step, the earth shaking with each movement, as if an earthquake had occurred.
“The Flesh Mountain Demon General!” An out-of-body cultivator beside Bao Zhen blurted out.
Yes, the Flesh Mountain Demon General—the same one who had severely injured him during the last demonic tide! Bao Zhen clenched his fists tightly, his gaze clashing with the Flesh Mountain Demon General’s in midair.
Crackling sounds erupted as their qi energies collided, sparks of electricity bursting forth.
Bao Zhen remained motionless, his presence solid and composed, like an unrippled ocean.
Having learned from his past mistake, he now resolved to stand firm and wait for the demon races—who had never truly united—to gradually turn against each other. Only then would be the opportune moment to drive them back into the Nine Abysses!
(Note: “九幽” is translated as “Nine Abysses,” a common rendering in fantasy contexts for this mythical underworld realm. The exclamation mark at the end emphasizes the decisive action.)
As for the Flesh Mountain Demon General, Bao Zhen probably still couldn’t defeat him. He had been the backbone of the last dozen or so demonic tides, possessing strength nearly equal to a Ninth Heaven Grandmaster.
Since humans were uncertain of how the demons referred to him internally, they simply called him the Flesh Mountain Demon General. Despite his enormous size, one should not underestimate him—he was skilled in both Daoist magic and dark sorcery, possessing formidable innate abilities that made him an exceptionally challenging adversary.
With the aid of the grand formation, Bao Zhen severed the entangled qi energy, his spirit spreading outward, enveloping Pingle City, ensuring every detail was accounted for, preventing any oversight during the upcoming fierce battle.
The first wave already included the Flesh Mountain Demon General—this demonic tide’s intensity might be a once-in-five-centuries occurrence!
“Fortunately, the rift is merely a crack, insufficient for the truly powerful Demon Sovereigns of the Nine Nether to pass through; otherwise, all would already be lost…” Bao Zhen sighed.
At this moment, many peasants, carrying their wives and children, rushed to the city gates. Afraid to violate the forbidden laws, they could only kneel and kowtow, begging for the gates to open.
Dong dong dong! Adults and children alike kowtowed until their foreheads bled, but the out-of-body cultivators and Qi-opening experts atop the walls remained unmoved.
Though cruel, this was necessary cruelty—to avoid endangering even more people!
Dong dong dong! The kowtows continued when suddenly a hoarse, trembling voice reached their ears: “Run to the mountains, whether you can hide or not depends on your own luck. I’ll stay here to cover your retreat.”
They turned in astonishment, seeing the young, inexperienced lad drawing his long sword, standing behind them, his eyes red, his legs slightly trembling, yet his back straight, not the slightest bit bent.
Covering their retreat? After saying this, the young man turned his gaze toward the distance, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. If the demons charged forward, he would be no more than a pebble falling into the sea, barely creating a ripple.
He only hoped to slightly distract the demons’ attention!
Sword in hand, standing proudly outside the city, the young man was soon joined by many companions. Their skin was sun-darkened, their expressions equally resolute and determined.
The demons drew closer, their eerie, terrifying presence reaching afar, making people’s limbs go numb and illusions flicker before their eyes.
The young man closed his eyes briefly, trying to dispel the illusions. Unconsciously, his mother’s image appeared—constantly bustling around the stove, tirelessly laboring. His father, always coughing but insisting on supervising his martial arts practice every day. His little sister, gazing at him with admiration. Everything was so warm, yet so distant.
“I’m about to die…you all must live well…” The young man whispered, his eyes welling with tears, longing to turn around and face Pingle City, kowtowing three times to repay his parents’ kindness.
Just then, his vision blurred, and six figures suddenly appeared before him. Leading them was a man in a green robe, his face ancient and solemn.
Before the city gates closed, Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei seized the opportunity to dash out, followed closely by Qin Shuanglian. Qin Shuanghua, having relied on her elder sister for many years, impulsively rushed out as well.
Once more, she confronted the demonic tide—without the shield of forbidden magic, without the bulwark of city walls. This time, it was clearer, even more horrifying—the sheer overwhelming numbers, the momentum powerful enough to shake the earth, instantly plunging her into profound despair.
This was an enemy beyond resistance!
“What are you…what are you doing coming out?!” Her heart felt as if gripped by a demonic hand; Qin Shuanghua couldn’t help but ask.
At the same time, she felt a surge of sorrow. Her masters and ancestors hadn’t flinched in the face of such terrifying demonic tides, sacrificing themselves bravely—it was the dawn of humanity!
“If we don’t come out, how can we find the Nine Nether Rift and close it?” Meng Qi casually replied.
“Close the Nine Nether Rift? Did they really intend to seal it?” Qin Shuanghua stared blankly.
At a time like this, they hadn’t stayed within the city, clearly not traitors or transformed demons.
Meng Qi glanced at the young man and others, then said to Jiang Zhiwei: “Protect them well. I’ll go test their strength.”
“Okay.” Jiang Zhiwei nodded, not pretending to be stronger than she was. Although she longed to test her sword against demons, such tasks were better left to Xiao Meng.
Meng Qi patted his robe, touched his altered jawline, smiled at Ruan Yushu:
“Play a suitable qin melody.”
Without waiting for Ruan Yushu’s response, he clasped his hands behind his back and strode toward the demonic tide. With each step, his figure flickered, reappearing dozens of li away. Seemingly leisurely strolling, in reality, within a few breaths, he approached the horizon.
Ruan Yushu slightly parted her lips, revealing rows of tiny, pearly teeth. She gently bit her lower lip, floated the Qifeng Qin, and placed both hands on the strings.
“Who is that?”
“What does he intend to do?”
The out-of-body cultivators and Qi-opening experts atop the city walls noticed the green-robed figure walking against the tide, momentarily confused about the situation.
Judging by his effortless mastery of the “shrinking the earth to inches” technique, his strength must be formidable. Was he unable to enter the city, having resolved to die and now seeking to fight the demons? Or was he overly confident, believing he could wound some demons before retreating safely?
Li, the leader of the caravan, had killed a demon in battle, sustaining severe injuries and feeling completely drained. He could only lean against a stone by the roadside, watching helplessly as the demonic tide surged closer and closer!
Suddenly, he saw a green-robed figure appear before him. Before his emotions could shift, the figure’s left hand flicked lightly, and he flew backward as if soaring on clouds, weightless and floating.
Plop, his feet landed without the slightest tremor. The figures appearing in his eyes were mostly familiar companions!
This…he abruptly turned his head to gaze at the demonic tide.
Ten thousand demons, endless as the horizon, and before Meng Qi stretched countless more, densely packed, seemingly covering the entire vast land.
At this moment, the qin melody began, slow and soothing, yet carrying a hint of oppression, like the calm before a storm, with intense eruption imminent.
Meng Qi stepped in rhythm, hands clasped behind his back, advancing forward. He had already entered the demons’ attack range. Suddenly, arrows, hand axes, scales, horns, black beams, and other projectiles rose like a buzzing swarm of giant mosquitoes, blotting out the still-glowing sky, casting shadows over Meng Qi.
He did not draw his blade, nor did he attack. Meng Qi seemed to be on a leisurely outing, continuing his stroll with hands clasped behind his back.
Ding ding dong dong! Continuous clashing sounds echoed. Numerous black arrows and corrosive fluids fell to the ground, yet Meng Qi remained unscathed, having already entered the demonic tide, swallowed by the sea of enemies.
The tide surged forward, only the occasional flashes of swords, flames, and black mist revealing his continued existence.
“What exactly is he trying to do?” The out-of-body cultivators atop the city wall were completely puzzled. If he intended to kill demons, he could have attacked already. If his aim was to assassinate a demonic leader, he should accelerate, catching them off guard!
Farthest away, the Flesh Mountain Demon General had two smooth, glistening arms, each hanging at his sides, covered in intricate patterns. His pair of gray, cold eyes gazed at the area being attacked, revealing slight confusion. He did not act yet—partly curious about what this unconventional green-robed man intended to do, partly confident that so many demons and shadowy ghosts would be sufficient to “swallow” him. He also believed that if any change occurred, his strength would be enough to intervene in time!
After a while, the demons drew even closer. Li, the leader, and the young man could now clearly see the monstrous faces of the larger demons. Qin Shuanghua was both startled and doubtful, her gaze constantly shifting between Jiang Zhiwei’s group and the demonic tide. How could they remain so calm!
Meng Qi halted his steps, slightly nodding. The distance was just right.
Bone blades and black thorns attacked from all directions, leaving no sliver of light, yet Meng Qi chose to ignore them. His right hand slipped into his left sleeve, slowly drawing out an orange-yellow long blade, flames dancing.
Suddenly, Ruan Yushu’s qin melody shifted. The long-suppressed intensity erupted, piercing the clouds and splitting rocks, tearing through the oppressive atmosphere, unleashing a storm of wind and rain.
The long blade rose, flames condensing, then fiercely cleaving downward, striking empty space.
The body enters the Nine Nether, demons meet their doom!
A golden flame erupted. The nearest demons and wraiths didn’t even have time to scream before they were instantly turned to charred remains.
The flames, as if restrained for too long, rapidly expanded, instantly engulfing the demon-covered land.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General’s deeply grooved face trembled. He barely managed to raise a shield formed from black water in front of him before feeling the scorching heat and terrifying impact, seemingly no different from the core blast!
Golden flames danced. A demon with four wings caught fire, blazing like a torch, plummeting from the sky with a plop, landing ten li away from the young man, Li, and the others.
Plop! Plop! The sky rained demons like dumplings falling from the pot. Their massive bodies shrank as they burned, leaving only charred remains.
Even so, the charred remains piled up like small mountains, and the nearest boundary to the city was also ten li away.
Dongfeng night releases a thousand trees in bloom, even more so as stars fall like rain. The young man stared blankly at this scene, seemingly still trapped in an illusion.
The flames quickly subsided. The vast land was now pitch black, countless demons reduced to ashes. Ten li outside the city became a line of life and death—those who crossed lived; those who didn’t perished!
Previously dense, now empty—the stark visual contrast made everyone gasp in shock.
Bao Zhen withdrew his spirit from various parts of the city, no longer caring for anything else, staring in horror at the battlefield.
A single slash wiped out the demonic tide at this rift?
This is truly unprecedented and might remain unparalleled in the future!
On the vast, empty land, only two figures remain: Meng Qi and the Flesh Mountain Demon General.
The sound of the zither changes again, producing a metallic clang, like the collision of iron and steel, with brief pauses between each note.
Zheng!
Meng Qi steps forward with his right foot and appears over ten miles away.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General regains his senses, letting out a deafening roar. He raises both hands, and all the patterns on his body light up one after another. In midair, a purely black flame composed entirely of demonic fire appears. It has a clear head and horns, bares its fangs, and looks terrifying and grotesque.
Nine black dragon-shaped flames condense into existence. They spiral upward into the sky, connecting head to tail, twisting into a monstrous giant dragon. The surrounding area burns and ripples, becoming hazy and pitch-black, before launching toward Meng Qi!
“Nine Dragon Demon Flame!” Bao Zhen inhales sharply. In their previous battle, he had suffered greatly from this evil technique. It is filled with sinister toxicity; once it touches the body, it seeps through the true energy and Dharma image, burning internal organs. Even if one manages to suppress and extinguish it, the fire toxin lingers, difficult to remove. Every day at the hours of Zi and Wu, it causes unbearable pain, as if countless needles pierce the body.
The nine black dragon flames descend. Meng Qi still gazes forward calmly, his right hand loosely holding the long blade at his side, his left hand resting casually behind him as he takes a step forward.
Boom! The dragon strikes him, black flames cascading downward like a waterfall.
Zheng!
The zither sounds again, and Meng Qi reappears over ten miles away. His green robe swirls with misty vapor, and the exposed skin on his body glows with a faint golden hue, resembling a deity or Buddha, completely unharmed.
The previous Nine Dragon Demon Flame seems to have been nothing more than a mere tickle.
“This…” Bao Zhen is speechless, his eyes filled with shock.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General’s gray eyes blaze with fury. He slams his hands together in the center and then slowly pulls them apart. A black lightning bolt materializes out of thin air, crackling with an eerie and terrifying sound.
After stretching to about a foot in length, it suddenly darts forward at lightning speed, aiming directly at Meng Qi.
“Destroying Form and Annihilating True Lightning!” Bao Zhen recalls the last time during the demon surge when the Flesh Mountain Demon General used this technique to pierce through the city’s grand formation, nearly breaching Pingle City.
The black lightning moves at an incredible speed and reaches Meng Qi in an instant. Meng Qi slightly sidesteps, thrusts his shoulder forward, and deliberately meets the attack head-on.
Peng! The black lightning shatters into pieces. The misty vapor and golden glow around Meng Qi’s shoulder rise up, swallowing the scattered thin lightning threads.
Zheng!
The zither sounds again. Meng Qi continues to shorten the distance with his steps, his right hand still dragging the long blade steadily, not moving an inch, showing no sign of counterattack.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General roars furiously, raises his hand, and summons a dark cloud that hovers above Meng Qi, unleashing lightning bolt after lightning bolt. At the same time, the black dragon flames, blood-red shadows, and filthy dark qi surge forth in succession.
Zheng!
Meng Qi breaks through the layers of techniques and enters within a hundred miles of the Flesh Mountain Demon General, meaning he has entered the opponent’s Grandmaster Domain. Yet, he only bears a few white marks and black traces, showing no signs of injury!
Seeing this, the Flesh Mountain Demon General stomps his feet. The earth shakes, and streams of black qi rise from the ground. They are both illusory and solid, resembling vines and snakes from all directions, entangling toward Meng Qi. The air grows icy and foul, effectively neutralizing and weakening other effects. This is his domain ability, the “Nine Yin Ghost Vine Sack,” combining restriction, weakening, and sealing into one.
Now that the opponent has entered his domain range, it’s naturally time to unleash full force.
Zheng!
The zither’s sound is martial and rhythmically intermittent. Meng Qi strides forward with ease, his muscles bulging as he forcibly tears through the streams of black qi. His long blade still hangs loosely at his side.
For the first time, the Flesh Mountain Demon General’s fierce gaze reveals a hint of fear. This enemy is simply unbreakable!
Moreover, domains work both ways. His domain range is also the opponent’s domain range, and equally within striking distance.
Yet, Meng Qi does not draw his blade. Instead, under the accompaniment of the zither, he steadily approaches the Flesh Mountain Demon General, step by step heralding the arrival of death, exerting immense pressure upon it.
“Roar!” Unable to bear it any longer, the Flesh Mountain Demon General lets out a deafening cry. The bulging flesh on his body suddenly contracts, and from his palms, a black glow condenses into a flat disc. It floats effortlessly, appearing as a thin, razor-sharp circle capable of slicing through anything.
With great effort, the Flesh Mountain Demon General hurls it forward, and it instantly appears before Meng Qi.
Although Bao Zhen has never seen the Flesh Mountain Demon General use this technique before, even from a distance, it sends chills down his spine, surpassing even the Nine Dragon Demon Flame and the Destroying Form and Annihilating True Lightning.
As this black glow slices toward him, Meng Qi finally moves. He raises his left hand, pale and smooth like jade, bends his finger, and flicks the edge of the glow.
With a soft “Puh!” sound, the black glow shatters into pieces, falling to the ground and drilling into the earth, creating deep, bottomless fissures.
Meng Qi rubs his thumb against his middle finger. It shows a faint reddish hue, as if swollen with blood. Still gazing at the Flesh Mountain Demon General, he smiles slightly and says, “Not bad. You’ve finally managed to cause me a bit of pain.”
Zheng!
The zither maintains its previous rhythm, exuding a mechanical beauty. Meng Qi takes another step forward, closing the distance by another ten miles.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General moves. He turns his body, his feet seemingly rooted to the ground, attempting to flee. His eyes are filled with terror.
What the hell kind of monster is this!
Below the Dharma Body realm, he is even more terrifying than the Gengjin Liumo, renowned for their indestructible physiques in the Nine Nether realms!
Zheng! Zheng! Zheng!
The zither’s sound suddenly quickens, and Meng Qi’s pace accelerates accordingly. The Lingbao Fire Blade trails behind him. In three steps, he seems to move simultaneously, instantly appearing behind the Flesh Mountain Demon General.
A golden light bursts forth, about to envelop the Flesh Mountain Demon General.
Dang!
The zither sound changes again, as if a silver screen had suddenly shattered, spewing liquid into the air, its martial aura piercing the heavens.
The orange-yellow long blade trailing behind Meng Qi suddenly slashes forward, cutting upward from below. The void seems to freeze. The Flesh Mountain Demon General crashes into an invisible wall and is violently rebounded.
Sizzling! The Lingbao Fire Blade strikes the back of the Flesh Mountain Demon General. A bright red line appears, burning through the protective black aura, searing the gray-white flesh, and slicing into the massive body.
Slashing upward from below, a deep wound opens on the demon general’s back. One could look through it and see the golden rice fields in the distance, still not fully harvested, ablaze with golden flames consuming everything within, crackling as if fat were dripping out.
The Flesh Mountain Demon General struggles to turn his head, looking behind, staring at the wound that has split him in two.
A Divine Weapon?
His eyes are frozen in fear, realization, and disbelief as he slowly collapses. With a thud, the earth shakes violently.
On the city wall, including City Lord Bao Zhen, all the external experts and opening experts fall into silence. The Flesh Mountain Demon General, who once roamed here, killing countless people and bringing nightmares and despair, was approached step by step and effortlessly sliced down with a single stroke.
The young men and the leader surnamed Li cannot see the exact battle situation, but they witnessed the hill-sized figure fall and felt the trembling earth, leaving their minds blank.
Qin Shuanglian lets out a long sigh of relief. Indeed, the senior is overwhelmingly powerful, not even using his full strength, and the Flesh Mountain Demon General has already fallen. Qin Shuanghua’s expression changes, showing shock, confusion, and a hint of sorrow.
On a distant mountain ridge, a man wearing the Ziweixingzhu mask stands at the edge of a cliff, witnessing this battle. Suddenly, he turns and solemnly says, “Let’s go. Don’t provoke him.”
That orange-yellow fire blade is too distinctive, making it easy to guess the other’s identity. Moreover, since Su Meng used this blade, he certainly doesn’t fear exposure of his identity. In the current situation, there are very few Reincarnators with the strength to confront him.
Therefore, after witnessing this battle, Ziweixingzhu chooses to retreat and focus solely on completing his own mission!
The woman wearing the Xi Wangmu mask glances back at Meng Qi, her eyes filled with intense hatred. Then, she follows Ziweixingzhu and others, leaving the area.
Meng Qi turns his head. The void trembles, and suddenly he appears beside Jiang Zhiwei and the others. He addresses Qin Shuanglian and Qin Shuanghua, saying, “The local demon surge has ended. Take us to the nearest Nine Nether rift.”
The demonic tide has ceased many times in the past, yet the Nine Nether Rift persists, proving it is no simple matter to seal. There may even be a Dharma Body-level demon lurking on the other side!
“The local demon surge has ended…” the Qin sisters stand in a daze, murmuring to themselves.
It ended so quickly… Suddenly, tears stream from the corners of their eyes, as if they wanted to cry and mourn for their ancestors.
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