Didn’t the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord fall victim to the Yin spirits or evil thoughts of the Death Gate? How could he end up dying tragically in the Life Gate?
Could it be that my judgment was wrong, or that the Yin spirits or evil thoughts from the Death Gate were suppressed in the Life Gate and simply abandoned the body to escape?
As Meng Qi’s thoughts raced, the Faceless Yama King’s face darkened, hesitating to act rashly, glancing warily at the corpse of the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord.
Suddenly, he murmured in surprise, “It doesn’t look like it was torn apart; the edges are smooth, as if cut by a blade.”
Cut by a blade? Meng Qi looked in astonishment and indeed noticed that the severed edges of the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord’s body bore no signs of tearing, as if cleaved by an axe.
“If I didn’t know myself so well, I’d almost think I was the one who did it…” For a moment, Meng Qi suspected that the wound resembled those caused by “Primordial Unity,” like the one he had erased from Master Chan.
As soon as this thought arose, Meng Qi abruptly froze. There was no certainty he hadn’t done it himself!
Back at the suspected Tomb of Zhenwu, the evil possession had struck without warning and in complete silence. Could the entity attached to the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord have somehow transferred to him? Had it seized control of his body while the illusion array clouded his senses?
The more Meng Qi pondered, the more terrified he grew. Had it not been for his ability to circulate primordial qi through meditation and maintain firm control over his body, he might have already broken into a cold sweat.
Experienced as he was, Meng Qi took a deep breath, steadying his heart, and extended his consciousness to carefully examine the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord’s corpse.
Unlike Master Chan, who had decayed into mud, this corpse had lost all moisture, including blood. Both flesh and organs were shriveled and desiccated, the wound cleanly sliced in two.
Seeing this, Meng Qi actually felt relieved. This slash had only the appearance of “Primordial Unity,” lacking its true essence, as if deliberately imitated.
Imitating “Primordial Unity”—could it be someone saw me kill Master Chan? No, he had also used it when escaping the Death Gate… Meng Qi frowned.
Suddenly, the Faceless Yama King reached out and seized the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord’s decaying black pouch—the glove had also rotted into mud, but the items inside the pouch were relatively well-preserved due to its protection.
Because of the relationship between the Faceless Yama King and the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord, no one objected when he took the black pouch. Though Meng Qi felt pained, he still refrained from interfering, needing them to explore the path ahead and trigger traps.
Moreover, Meng Qi was troubled by another issue: could he himself have been possessed by the Yin spirits or evil thoughts from the Death Gate?
The incident at the suspected Tomb of Zhenwu had left a profound impression on him. He had no idea when possession might occur, making it difficult to rule out at this moment.
He settled his mind, his primordial spirit soaring high, surveying the “Myriad Realms,” opening his acupoints, subtly circulating his qi, searching for any trace of anomaly.
“No problem…” Meng Qi’s Dharmakaya manifested internally, dark and obscure, the chaos dividing, the myriad worlds emerging, with various universes and realms appearing—all perfectly normal.
Next, he visualized the first move of the “Buddha’s Wrath,” a golden giant Buddha pointing to heaven and earth, exalting the “Self,” pointing both to himself and others, yet still not revealing any foreign presence.
If even this revealed nothing, then he should trust himself! Meng Qi ceased his suspicions. Under the protection of the Immortal Primordial Form and visualization of the “Buddha’s Wrath,” if any evil thought or Yin spirit could still silently attach itself to him, it would be beyond the realm of external scenery to resolve, not worth worrying about. After completing the mission, he would seek help from the Six Realms!
He carried only one “Dharma Body-level” item, the wooden carving gifted by Master Lu, which he now held in his left hand. The sensation felt normal, still an ordinary wooden carving.
“Let’s continue,” the Faceless Yama King said grimly.
Meng Qi and “World-Turbulent Demon King” Jia Zhen said nothing more, cautiously stepping forward.
One step, two steps, three steps. Once again, mist began to rise. Meng Qi carefully changed direction, not remaining in place.
After a cup of tea’s time, the mist dissipated. Meng Qi saw the gray-white plaza empty, with only the Faceless Yama King in the distance.
“Did Jia Zhen also die?” Meng Qi extended his spiritual sense and found a pile of blood and mangled flesh, as if crushed by a ten-thousand-pound boulder. Judging by the remnants of clothing mixed within, it was indeed the “World-Turbulent Demon King,” Jia Zhen.
Everything on him had been crushed to pulp!
This middle-aged scholar, familiar yet unrecognizable, had also died silently… A chill ran down Meng Qi’s spine. No wonder this was the Valley of No Sorrow, which had buried the entire Bomi Kingdom. Fortunately, he had used the mission for personal gain, dragging the examiner in with him.
Meng Qi and the Faceless Yama King exchanged glances, each seeing the other’s wariness and scrutiny.
“Continue?” Meng Qi asked.
The Faceless Yama King replied solemnly, “Of course.”
Only a few steps remained to reach the entrance!
The two advanced simultaneously. After three steps, mist predictably rose, isolating their senses.
According to his understanding, Meng Qi sidestepped diagonally, shifting his position. He could sense the vast sea of primordial qi that filled the surrounding world, also shrouded in mist, obscuring the natural order.
Suddenly, a black shadow darted forth like lightning, thick with demonic aura, resembling a centipede, attempting to tightly entangle Meng Qi.
Meng Qi, already on guard, transformed with the wind, mysteriously escaping from within the centipede-like demonic aura.
At that instant, countless humanoid shadows surged forth from the white mist—some throwing punches, others slashing with claws, some wielding palm blades, others drilling with fingers, or spiraling through the air. Each strike was infused with profound dharma principles, overwhelming and tinged with a corrosive sensation. Their malevolent intent imprinted itself deeply upon Meng Qi’s heart.
Meng Qi made no attempt to defend. He slashed his long sword, numerous acupoints within him radiating with the sun.
The sword gleamed like the blazing sun, emitting ten-thousand-zhang rays of light, real and illusory, bending or reflecting, “swallowing” everything nearby.
The sun illuminated everything, leaving nothing unseen!
Clang! Clang! Clang! The long sword continuously clashed with their fists and feet, metallic sounds ringing out, numerous shadows dissipating.
Suddenly, the shadows gathered, seemingly with two horns atop its head, thick with demonic aura.
It clapped its hands together, deftly pinching off the stream of fire and instantly extinguishing the sunlight.
Meng Qi instantly felt an immense pulling force from the torrent of flames. His flesh, bones, and even his soul and true essence seemed to loosen, as if being irresistibly dragged toward his foe!
A faint golden glow emerged, making the suction as futile as an ant trying to shake a giant tree.
The enemy’s true energy shifted accordingly. A powerful sense of danger surged within Meng Qi, compelling him to instantly unleash the torrent of flames and adjust his technique.
Boom!
The radiant light clamped between the palms erupted like a newborn sun, unleashing relentless explosions, waves of scorching heat surging outward as dazzling brilliance burst forth.
Using this propulsion, the long sword pierced through the palms, striking the enemy’s chest!
The enemy’s chest seemed forged from gold and iron, yet the stream of fire, already a top-grade treasure weapon, barely hesitated before piercing through.
Boom!
The scorching heat erupted violently, as if successive suns were exploding. The stench of charred flesh wafted through the air, while the surrounding white mist thinned from the force of the blast!
The enemy took advantage of the stream of fire’s brief hesitation to retreat rapidly, preventing the sword from penetrating deeply, though its chest had melted into a large hole, organs half-liquefied and half-charred!
At this moment, Meng Qi only began to feel a strong tingling sensation, spreading all the way to his hair ends.
“It’s him! The Heaven-Demon Bliss Body!” Meng Qi nearly fell victim. Through the thinning white mist, he saw the enemy clearly—it was indeed “World-Turbulent Demon King” Jia Zhen, who had seemed unmistakably dead before.
Meng Qi also recognized his identity through the martial art, identifying him as Old Zhong from the “Myth” faction, a non-reincarnator member!
No wonder the earlier strike had caused no injury—the Heaven-Demon Golden Body was a defensive martial art making one impervious to blades and bullets!
Old Zhong, having reverted to his original appearance, looked even uglier, his face now covered with more blemishes. He kept retreating, finally reaching the edge of the gray-white plaza.
Meng Qi tried to pursue but was blocked by layers of dense white mist.
At this moment, most of the mist had dissipated. Meng Qi saw the Faceless Yama King, emanating an earthy glow, barely holding his ground under the assault of a semi-transparent Yin spirit.
This spirit had an aged face, wore a black robe, and had thick, white hair like tiny snakes, cascading down its back.
As the mist receded, it also ceased its attack, vanishing into the fog.
“It’s you!” The Faceless Yama King looked at Old Zhong protected by the white mist, his eyes unable to conceal his fury.
But he didn’t rush into battle, seemingly waiting for something.
Old Zhong cackled maniacally, clearly unstable: “Who told you to invite this seat?”
“What exactly do you want? We haven’t even entered the Life Gate yet!” The Faceless Yama King was perplexed about his eagerness to attack.
Old Zhong’s chest flesh writhed, regenerating organs, as he crazily laughed at Meng Qi: “Of course, it’s to kill you all!”
Hearing this, Meng Qi seemed to have guessed something and calmly stated, “Are you the one sent by ‘Myth’ to seek clues about the Carefree Valley?”
“Myth…” The Faceless Yama King had only recently learned at the market that the Myth Heaven Emperor had killed the Great Jin Emperor. Now encountering the “real thing,” it felt like a dream.
Old Zhong happily prolonged the conversation to recover: “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to find the Life Gate so quickly. I had no time to send word out, so I decided to kill you first and suppress this matter.”
The incident occurred abruptly, leaving him no opportunity to inform Myth, as he feared others might seize the treasures of the Carefree Valley first. Therefore, he launched a covert attack to eliminate this treasure-hunting team. Never did he anticipate that his first attempt would fail, with the initial casualty being someone killed by Meng Qi.
“And that Yin spirit is?” The Faceless Yama King asked.
Old Zhong chuckled: “According to the records I obtained, important locations of Bomi would be guarded by ancestral spirits. Sincere worship could gain their protection.”
“So your kowtow wasn’t just to open the gate…” The Faceless Yama King realized.
Normally, ancestral spirits without worship would dissipate after a hundred years, but this place was special—dark, damp, filled with death. It was plausible for an ancestral spirit to exist for over a thousand years, though apparently, it had lost its intelligence, acting purely on instinct, and still needed the mist to function.
Old Zhong’s chest and abdomen had mostly recovered, his aura slightly weakened. He glanced at Meng Qi and the others and coldly laughed: “You dare not move, fearing to trigger the illusion array again, letting the ancestral spirit attack?”
“No problem, this seat will activate it for you!”
As soon as the words fell, he heard the Faceless Yama King’s hearty laughter: “Jia Zhen, do you think why I invited you, a mere casual acquaintance?”
“You…” Old Zhong was momentarily stunned.
The Faceless Yama King’s expression turned cold: “For convenience in killing you and keeping the treasures to myself!”
At that moment, a figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere, both hands grasping, dark brown waves surging, forcibly pulling the ancestral spirit out from the formation!
The newcomer wore a black imperial robe, his white hair tied into a high bun with a snake-shaped wooden hairpin. His face was wrinkled, bearing a striking resemblance to the ancestral spirit!
“King of the Underworld!” Old Zhong’s face changed drastically. He pulled out an object and turned to flee toward the exit.
The Faceless Yama King remained composed, confident, not bothering to chase. Instead, he smiled at Meng Qi:
“You’re surprisingly calm. Aren’t you afraid?”
Meng Qi flashed a bright smile, revealing a row of neat, white teeth.
“Why should I be afraid?”
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