Chapter One Hundred and Ten: Xuan Zhe Clashes with Yang Tianbao

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Although the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer and Wei Xiaofan were already nowhere in sight, the Perfected One Xuan Zhe still pursued the direction in which the sorcerer had fled for dozens of miles, hoping against hope to catch even the faintest glimpse of them.

He then conducted a swift search across the ground and mountains within a radius of several dozen miles.

Not only did he fail to find any trace of the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer or Wei Xiaofan, he could not detect even the slightest scent.

The sorcerer had fled far too quickly! Carrying a grown man in his arms, he could still move at such speed. Clearly, whether in magical arts or in movement techniques, this Soul-Seizing Sorcerer was extraordinarily formidable.

“Even empty-handed, I could not catch him. That proves my skill in flight is far inferior to his. More importantly, he can actually become invisible! What devilish method did he use to cultivate such a concealment art? If I encounter him again, how can I break through his invisibility?”

Thus, the Perfected One Xuan Zhe could only watch helplessly as his beloved disciple was carried away by the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer, utterly powerless to stop him.

Xuan Zhe returned to the ground. At that moment, with Wei Xiaofan’s abduction, his divine bow also withdrew and vanished without a trace. Wei Xiaofan’s mount, Little Black, had disappeared as well, though Xuan Zhe did not know when.

“If Wei Xiaofan’s black monster mount were still here, I should be able to find Wei Xiaofan and the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer by tracking it! An animal’s nose is the most sensitive of all, especially when it comes to recognizing its master’s scent. As long as Wei Xiaofan is still alive, I can follow the black monster along the trail left by the sorcerer and Wei Xiaofan as they flew away, and surely find them. But now even the black monster is gone.”

The Perfected One Xuan Zhe recalled the Evil-Slaying Divine Sword, then placed it beneath his feet in midair and stepped onto it. The sword immediately carried him skyward.

Xuan Zhe wanted to rise into the air and see whether he could catch sight of the black monster.

Standing upon the Evil-Slaying Divine Sword, he flew high above the ground and gazed in every direction. For more than a hundred miles around him, all he could see was an endless expanse of white. There was not even a single black speck, much less the black monster’s enormous body.

Xuan Zhe had no choice but to return to the ground, sighing several times over his failure to rescue his beloved disciple.

Now that Wei Xiaofan had been carried away by the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer, no one knew when they would meet again. Worse still, no one knew what the sorcerer would do to Wei Xiaofan.

From the pained expression Wei Xiaofan had shown during his recent battle with Xuan Zhe, it was clear that the Soul-Seizing Sorcerer had no intention of treating him kindly. He might even use soul-seizing magic to torment Wei Xiaofan’s body and force him to do certain things against his will—just as Wei Xiaofan had suddenly clutched his head in agony during the battle.

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Strange. How did this Soul-Seizing Sorcerer know me when I have not the slightest impression of him?

“Old Daoist Xuan Zhe, I never imagined that after several centuries apart, your magical attainments would have reached such heights! Congratulations, congratulations…”

From those words, did the sorcerer mean that he and I had fought each other centuries ago? Or that he had known me? Several centuries ago? Which century, exactly? Had we fought two hundred years ago, three hundred years ago, four hundred years ago, or five hundred years ago? The mystery this Soul-Seizing Sorcerer had left me was truly ruthless. Who could possibly remember something that happened centuries ago? And he had not even given the exact year!

The Perfected One Xuan Zhe rose and looked toward the battlefield, where the two armies were still locked in combat.

He saw Huang Xianlin fighting Yang Tianbao with neither side gaining the upper hand.

Judging from their exchange, Yang Tianbao and Huang Xianlin were evenly matched in martial skill. Their mounts, too, appeared to possess comparable fighting strength.

Xuan Zhe then looked toward the battlefield below. There were far more soldiers in yellow armor than in black armor. In other words, Huang Xianlin had many more troops remaining than Yang Tianbao. Clearly, Huang Xianlin’s army stood a much better chance of victory.

If the fighting continued, the casualties would only increase. Many parents would lose their sons; many women would lose their husbands; and many children would lose their fathers. Countless families would be plunged into indescribable tragedy.

“We must make both sides cease fighting at once! If Yang Tianbao and his men are willing to surrender and admit defeat, and if they promise never to invade again, then let them return home. After all, every soldier’s life is precious. Every soldier has parents, children, and a wife. Whoever dies on the battlefield inflicts profound suffering upon an entire family!”

Xuan Zhe looked once more at Yang Tianbao. Yang Tianbao rode a wolf-lion beast capable of demonic arts and wielded a pair of iron hammers forged from ancient divine metal. Xuan Zhe wondered whether he might be one of Yang Shengtian’s most trusted assistants. He was probably closely acquainted with Yang Shengtian—that is, Wei Xiaofan—and should know more about Yang Shengtian’s circumstances.

I should go over and sound Yang Tianbao out first, Xuan Zhe thought. I can find out whether he knows anything about Yang Shengtian, or Wei Xiaofan, and see whether I can learn more from him. That would make it easier to search for Wei Xiaofan later.

With that, the Perfected One Xuan Zhe leapt into the air and flew toward the place where Huang Xianlin and Yang Tianbao were fighting.

“Disciple-nephew Huang Xianlin, go help the soldiers fight the enemy troops. I will deal with this fellow. Remember, avoid harming them if possible. So long as they are willing to surrender, that will suffice.”

Xuan Zhe spoke quietly to Huang Xianlin, then stepped between him and Yang Tianbao, separating the two.

“Yes, Martial Uncle! Be careful!”

Huang Xianlin urged his qilin divine beast toward another part of the battlefield.

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Yang Tianbao had been fighting Huang Xianlin to a standstill when, suddenly, a Daoist priest with a beard three or four feet long descended from the sky.

One glance was enough for Yang Tianbao to recognize him as the Daoist who had fought Yang Shengtian moments earlier.

Yang Tianbao studied him closely. Although the Daoist’s beard was as long as the horsetail whisk in his hand, he appeared to be no older than Yang Tianbao or Huang Xianlin. Huang Xianlin’s magical and martial abilities were on par with his own; if the battle continued, Yang Tianbao was not even certain he could defeat him. Yet this Daoist, who had suddenly descended from the sky, was addressed by Huang Xianlin as his martial uncle. Clearly, he was no ordinary man. His martial and magical abilities must far exceed Yang Tianbao’s!

Moreover, had he not just been fighting King Huicheng, Yang Shengtian? Why had he suddenly come here? Had Yang Shengtian been defeated?

Yang Tianbao looked toward the place where the Perfected One Xuan Zhe and Yang Shengtian had fought. It was empty. Yang Shengtian and his mount had vanished without a trace.

“Yang Shengtian, you couldn’t have been killed by this Daoist so quickly, could you? Have you really left me here to clean up this mess alone?” Yang Tianbao thought.

“You stinking old Daoist! Weren’t you fighting our General Yang just now? Where has he gone? I was on the verge of defeating Huang Xianlin when you came meddling. Very well, then—let me show you the might of my divine hammers!”

Without waiting for Xuan Zhe to reply, and without even asking who he was, Yang Tianbao swung one of his divine hammers and brought it crashing down upon him.

Seeing its master attack, the wolf-lion beast roared and spewed a blast of sinister wind toward Xuan Zhe.

Xuan Zhe thought, Like master, like mount. The master has a violent temper, and the beast is no less savage.

When Xuan Zhe saw Yang Tianbao and the wolf-lion beast attack simultaneously, he recognized the danger. Yang Tianbao’s iron hammer was a divine weapon with extraordinary destructive power, and the force behind his swing made its impact immense. The sinister wind exhaled by the wolf-lion beast carried an abnormally icy chill; before it even reached him, Xuan Zhe could already feel the cold seeping into him from ten feet away.

Xuan Zhe tucked his horsetail whisk behind his back, leapt straight into the air, and evaded both Yang Tianbao’s divine hammer and the wolf-lion beast’s wicked demonic wind. He soared over Yang Tianbao’s head, then struck downward with both palms from a distance.

Seeing Xuan Zhe leap over him, Yang Tianbao hurriedly raised his head and tried to bring his other divine hammer down upon the Daoist above. But then he heard a resonant boom, and his body shook violently. The wolf-lion beast let out a tremendous howl. He and his mount sank toward the ground together.

With a muffled thud, the wolf-lion beast suddenly collapsed onto all four knees and began to howl.