He can still do this!
Li Yan's divine sense remained active, instantly alert to the threat.
Unexpectedly, the puppet could not only summon soul magic but also launch physical attacks.
He didn't know yet — this was exactly what made puppet magic so terrifying.
Invisible spirits and ghost soldiers mainly attack a person's soul. With targeted defenses or by hiding in a temple full of incense, they could be avoided.
But when faced with this situation, the spirits had no choice but to go after the physical body.
Just like when he dealt with the Cold Altar's rampant soldiers—when hiding at home, those things could directly come knocking; hiding inside the earth god temple, they could only possess a fierce wolf to attack.
Puppet magic was created precisely to make up for this weakness.
Chen Fupai, wanting to perform a dark ritual, knew that the right to summon armies would be taken by his sect. The only forces he could control were a few lower altar soldiers he personally raised.
Combined with puppet magic, this compensated for many shortcomings.
Though Li Yan didn't fully grasp the technique's secrets, he felt no fear facing these physical attacks.
He shifted his body aside, narrowly dodging an attack, then lazily flipped and sliced upward with his Guanshan blade.
Clatter!
The old wooden puppet was instantly split in two.
Its scattered parts fell to the ground, and the hidden spirits within were strangled by the three-talents demon-suppressing talisman's demonic energy, dissipating into mist.
Before they even hit the ground, Li Yan rolled forward, protecting his head.
Whoosh—
A fiery pillar surged wildly from above—
It was the "Jing" puppet attacking.
In common terms, "Jing" means the painted face roles in traditional opera: the large painted face represents loyal generals, the second painted face is rough and reckless, and the martial painted face specializes in fighting.
This "Jing" puppet was dressed as a warrior, with five command flags strapped on its back. Suddenly, it opened its mouth and sprayed a burst of burning oil.
Of course, this was not magic—it hid a bladder inside the puppet's belly filled with flammable oil, and a flintstone in its mouth, ignited by the spirit controlling the mechanism.
Once the bladder was emptied, the fire attack could no longer be released.
But the "Jing" puppet didn't stop attacking; it perched on a tree trunk, waving its hands, while the five small command flags behind it shot out like hidden weapons.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Li Yan flipped and dodged; all five flags stabbed into the ground.
It seemed because the old wooden puppet had been cut down in one stroke, the other puppets didn't dare approach closely. The "Jing" puppet launched ranged attacks, the "Chou" puppet continued summoning souls, and strange laughter and cries for help from familiar faces echoed constantly around Li Yan's ears.
His gaze was icy, ignoring it all as he turned and ran.
His mission wasn't just to draw these attacks—it was to quickly locate Chen Fupai's hidden tomb.
Whoosh!
He sped forward. Passing two large trees, he suddenly slid and knelt low like crossing an iron plate bridge, throwing out his blade at the same time.
It was the "Dan" puppet's trickiest move: while the "Jing" and "Chou" puppets pursued, it circled ahead, drawing a thin steel wire from its flowing sleeves, wrapping it around a tree to block the path.
The wire was so thin it was nearly invisible at night.
Anyone running through might have their neck sliced.
But Li Yan had already noticed and easily avoided it.
Without looking back, he grabbed his Guanshan blade stuck in the tree and kept running.
Clatter!
The "Dan" puppet hiding behind the tree shattered into pieces as the blade was pulled out; the spirits dispersed.
From behind, Luo Mingzi watched and nodded silently.
Li Yan's combination of dodging and attacking was remarkable for someone his age—better than most old hands on the Jianghu. Given time, he would surely become a master.
Unfortunately, the Tai Xuan Orthodox Sect had strict rules, especially the Law Enforcement Hall, which only accepted children for training. They could only serve as peripheral runners…
Finally, after dashing through a narrow mountain path, Li Yan smelled Yuan Qu and Zheng Heibei's faint scents again—subtle but clearly pointing the way.
Just ahead, deep in the dense forest ravine!
The tomb passage had been opened, bricks scattered around.
Seemingly eager to stop Li Yan, the last three puppets revealed themselves, jumping down from the tree trunks with weapons in hand.
A savage grin spread across Li Yan's mouth as he swung his Guanshan blade horizontally.
He stepped forward, slashing up,
then twisted back, slashing diagonally on retreat,
finally flipping with a hawk's motion, both hands wielding the blade in a fierce downward chop!
Each stroke faster than the last, murderous intent sharp as a blade.
Clatter, clatter, clatter…
All three wooden puppets were cleaved to pieces.
Chen Fupai's puppet magic might be strange, but controlling puppets in close combat with a swordsman was basically suicidal.
Still, Li Yan felt no joy after shattering them—his expression shifted, and he rolled sideways.
Boom!
Dirt flew as a figure shot toward him—
It was Zheng Heibei, leader of the Iron Blade Gang.
Now, he looked completely different.
Originally tall and bulky like a black bear, his muscles bulged with tense veins, eyes blood-red, face covered in blood talismans—he resembled a living yaksha.
Chen Fupai had sensed trouble and sent Zheng Heibei to block the way.
At this moment, Zheng Heibei also felt Yuan Qu's earlier excitement, as if boundless strength and murderous intent surged through him, rushing forward with a "Yuan Cuan" (Ape Leap) technique.
Though slower than Yuan Qu, Zheng Heibei's charge was even more ferocious.
Rocks and dirt flew as a fierce wind howled past Li Yan, who rolled just in time to avoid it.
But this was Li Yan's first fight with a spirit medium.
He barely had time to stand, holding his blade defensively, when Zheng Heibei came to a sudden stop, deeply planting his right foot into the ground, then instantly released hidden power again, charging forward with another "Yuan Cuan" leap.
These two moves happened almost without pause.
Li Yan's face turned grim—but it was already too late.
Zheng Heibei roared as he flew forward, shoulders raised, elbows wrapped, arms extended, crackling sounds erupting from his body as his right fist shot out.
This was Zheng Heibei possessed by a vengeful spirit, madness in his eyes, nose exhaling cold mist, howling with an inhuman roar.
Though he had learned the Zhou family's monkey boxing, his instincts forced him to use Tongbei Fist trained since childhood.
The sharp clack of Tongbei Fist struck.
Li Yan barely managed to block with the back of his blade, but a massive force hit him like a hammer, sending him flying seven or eight meters, crashing hard against a tree before falling to the ground.
His arm was broken; his chest tight and vision dimmed.
"Hahaha…"
Across from him, Zheng Heibei laughed madly but suddenly stiffened, unable to move.
From the forest behind, Luo Mingzi stepped out slowly, sword in hand.
His eyes cold as ice, he slowly drew his Seven Star Sword.
Luo Mingzi was a little helpless. Seeing Li Yan attacked, he couldn't just watch the young swordsman die and had to reveal himself early.
At his cultivation level—two floors—he couldn't both use invisibility and secret power attacks simultaneously, or it wouldn't have come to this.
Luo Mingzi's appearance made Zheng Heibei sense killing intent, preventing him from reckless moves. Even Chen Fupai inside grew uneasy, waving a peachwood sword at the altar as several wandering spirit jars shattered.
He shouted, "Assist me to stop the enemy! Today, I grant you freedom!"
Suddenly, a cold wind rose, black smoke roaring out, swirling in the tomb, then rushing into Zheng Heibei's body.
These were powerful spirits he had captured, nearly fierce ghosts—originally meant to be forged into an army of puppets but now unleashed early.
Roar!
Injected with these spirits, Zheng Heibei completely lost reason, his eyes rolling back, nostrils spraying cold mist, howling like a beast.
Under the tree, Li Yan focused his mind; his broken bones and internal injuries instantly healed.
Looking at the terrifying aura radiating from Zheng Heibei, he knew charging now would only slow him down, so he held back.
Suddenly, a pit in the ground ahead caught his attention.
The children's scent floated out from within, faint but unmistakable, mixed with the smell of burning incense—though weak, it was remarkably clear.
It was a secret tunnel directly leading into the tomb!
Without hesitation, Li Yan flipped and slipped into the hole.
Far behind, Luo Mingzi activated his divine sense.
Though lacking Yin-Yang eyes, his divine sense gave him extraordinary vision, immediately noticing Li Yan's movement.
He remained calm, sword pointed at Zheng Heibei.
Though they spoke no words, their coordination was perfect.
If Li Yan was the bait before, now he was the one drawing all fire—once inside the tunnel to destroy the altar, everyone could be saved.
Roar!
Unable to bear the pressure, Zheng Heibei charged straight forward...
At the mountain's base, night wind howled around the altar.
Sha Lifei threw the remaining fire paper into the basin.
This kind of paper was made from straw, reeds, weeds, bamboo—rough and yellowish, called earth paper or grass paper in some places, mainly used for wrapping and burning during rituals.
Whoosh—
In an instant, the night wind surged, whipping up a tornado of fire.
Sha Lifei grinned with bared teeth, hurriedly retreating.
He glanced at Zhao Facheng, thinking to himself, "This black-faced fellow truly is a master of the magical path. His cultivation is two floors above; the altar's aura far surpasses Wang Daoxuan's."
At the same time, Zhao Facheng lit another yellow talisman, formed hand seals, stepped the Big Dipper formation, and thrust his sword slantwise toward the sky.
Sha Lifei smiled.
Though he couldn't see any aura, he knew it was summoning troops.
Two orders had already been sent. If they could hold for one more incense stick's burn, the third order would release the full force of the city god temple's spirit army.
Even if Chen Fupai had three heads and six arms, he'd have to kneel.
Boom!
But just then, a figure came flying down the mountain, dirt spraying beneath his feet, murderous intent soaring—it was Yuan Qu, transformed into a spirit medium!
*(End of chapter)*