“Master Zhang, I can’t hold on any longer!” Wang Weizhen almost flew into the room.
Blood crusted the corners of his mouth, oozing from numerous small cuts, clearly having endured great suffering. Yet, as a barefoot Taoist priest without any sect or support, being able to engage in several rounds of battle against the legendary vampire-like creature, Hanba, was itself a remarkable feat.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Wang!” Zhang Enpu bowed respectfully. “Please retreat first; I will handle this from here!” Saying this, he flipped his Taoist robe, the sleeves fluttering without wind, while the silver strands of his beard swayed majestically, making him seem like an immortal descending from the heavens.
“Aaaaagh!” A piercing roar interrupted their brief exchange. At the same moment, a large gash tore through the door, revealing the very creature they had been speaking of—the demon-possessed Hanba.
“This creature is impervious to both soft and hard tactics; ordinary magical tools are useless against it…” Wang Weizhen, leaning weakly against a chair, swallowed a mouthful of blood rising to his throat and spoke with difficulty.
“I know!” Zhang Enpu slowly drew the Celestial Sword from behind his back. In an instant, several beams of cold blue light sliced through the dark shadows on the floor.
“Dashao, what are you waiting for? Do as I told you—activate the formation!” Zhang Enpu roared. With his left foot, he kicked up a bench, stood it upright, then used it as a springboard. Launching himself into the air, he thrust the sword downward, aiming straight for Hanba’s chest.
Meanwhile, Liu Dashao sat cross-legged on the ground, chanting the essential doctrines of Taoism. As his voice grew louder, the air vibrated with increasing intensity, producing explosive popping sounds. The talismans Zhang Enpu had previously drawn on the floor began to come alive—some expanding, others shrinking—converging into a red circle that completely encircled the Hanba. The word “alive” was used because the talismans seemed to possess a life of their own.
Puchi…
Zhang Enpu descended with his shadow, driving the Celestial Sword steadily into Hanba’s chest.
“Break!” Zhang gritted his teeth, holding his breath, and pushed with all his might. However, Hanba’s body was incredibly strong. Although the sword was a sacred Taoist treasure, it only managed to penetrate three-tenths of the way in; seven-tenths still protruded, stuck fast—neither advancing nor retracting.
“Roarrrr!!!” Hanba’s eyes flared open in pain. At the same time, five fingers as sharp as saws slashed through the air toward Zhang Enpu. If that strike connected, Zhang would either die or be severely maimed.
But who was Zhang Enpu?
He was the current Grand Master of the Zhengyi Sect. If he lacked skill, he would be laughed out of existence. As the strike came, he kept his grip on the sword, slid his left shoulder along Hanba’s body, ducked low, and narrowly avoided the deadly blow. Still, Hanba’s hand grazed his nose—had it been off by even a hair’s breadth, his nose would have been gone.
“Tao of the Three Pure Ones, empower me!” Zhang formed a sword with his fingers, drawing a horizontal and vertical line in the air. Instantly, the red circle on the ground began a new transformation, splitting into countless tiny symbols that crawled up Hanba’s legs like ants.
As the symbols climbed, they crackled and sparked, emitting a chain of sharp, electric-like sounds. Soon, the air was filled with a nauseating stench of burning flesh.
More and more red talismans, like an immense net descending from the sky, began to envelop Hanba completely. Startled, the creature struggled momentarily, unable to break free from the formation. However, merely trapping it was not enough to destroy a Hanba King that had fed on countless human lives.
As Hanba’s resistance grew fiercer, the talismans began to falter, some even falling off the creature and turning back into red cinnabar stains.
Liu Dashao, seated at the formation’s core and chanting the sutras, felt an imminent pressure building. His voice became increasingly unstable.
“Master, what should I do?” Liu asked anxiously.
“Keep chanting, don’t pay attention to anything else!” Seeing the situation deteriorating, Zhang kicked Hanba hard, using the recoil to yank the sword free. With a swift arc, he slashed backward, rolled away, and created distance between himself and the creature.
At this point, brute force was no longer the best solution. The only option was to use the formation to slow Hanba down while engaging in a guerrilla-style battle.
Since it was a zombie, it must have a weak spot. Zhang was determined to find it.
With this thought, he nodded slightly and resolved to proceed with his plan.
Changing tactics, Zhang now aimed for Hanba’s flank. Though aged, his deep martial foundation allowed him to dart and dodge with ease. The Celestial Sword danced in his hands like falling snow, graceful and precise. Yet, no matter where he struck, the blows were ineffective.
“This can’t go on forever,” Zhang muttered to himself.
“Master, are you sure you can do this?” Liu Dashao felt the Hanba’s struggle pulling him and the surrounding talismans slowly toward the center of the room.
He had no intention of becoming this creature’s snack.
“I don’t know what’s going on—it just won’t penetrate! It’s like steel and iron!” Zhang frowned deeply.
“If we can’t get through from the outside, how about from the inside? I bet its insides aren’t this hard. It thinks it’s made of stone or something!” Liu shouted.
He didn’t realize that Hanba was harder than stone. Zhang’s Celestial Sword could slice through iron like butter, yet against Hanba, it had lost its edge.
But Liu’s offhand remark gave Zhang an idea. Right! If he couldn’t break through from the outside, why not try another approach—from the inside?
With this thought, a plan formed in his mind.
“Dashao, take the sword. I’ll stuff these Five Emperor Coins into Hanba’s mouth and temporarily immobilize it. At that moment, you must strike its heart with one decisive blow—remember, you must succeed. I won’t be able to hold it for long.” Zhang turned the sword around and handed it to Liu Dashao.
“Master, this is too dangerous!” Liu wasn’t stupid. Rushing in barehanded to stuff coins into Hanba’s mouth was like trying to snatch food from a tiger’s jaws, let alone trying to control it. Even if Zhang was skilled, this move would likely cost him his life.
“Hehe, don’t worry!” Zhang gently patted Liu Dashao’s head. He felt a warm sense of pride that his newly acquired apprentice was concerned for his safety.
“If anything happens to me, you will inherit my legacy. My books will be enough for you to study on your own. I entrust the Celestial Sword to you. May you carry the torch of the Celestial Sect in your lifetime. Even if I perish, I will rest in peace in the afterlife.” With that, Zhang shook his head and prepared to rise.
“Master, let me go instead…” Liu Dashao grabbed Zhang’s hand tightly.
“I’m going!” At that moment, a bold and resolute voice rang out between them. Before Zhang could turn around, the Five Emperor Coins were snatched from his hand. When he looked again, Wang Weizhen was already charging toward Hanba, gripping the coins with unwavering determination.
“You…” Zhang tried to chase after him but was too late. Liu Dashao, on the other hand, stared in shock, unable to reconcile the image of the shady, deceitful charlatan he had known with the figure before him.
At that moment, Wang Weizhen’s retreating figure seemed so clear, so inspiring, that Liu Dashao was reminded of an ancient saying he had once read while studying: “Though a thousand men oppose me, I shall go forth!”
Was this truly the same Wang Baoxian?
Perhaps this was the real Wang Baoxian.
Watching Wang fight fiercely against Hanba, Liu Dashao dug his fingernails into his palms, tears unconsciously streaming from his eyes.
Zhang Enpu closed his eyes in sorrow and murmured, “Wuliang Tianzun!”
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