Chapter Fifty-eight: Battle of Spells Within the Mountain

Let us leave aside for now the whereabouts of Zuo Zhi, and focus on Zhou Yi, who led Mu Chen back into the heart of the mountain. Zhou Yi turned around and, with a single punch, sealed the entrance to the cave, cutting off all connection between the mountain’s interior and the outside world once more.

“This is a rare opportunity. If we sit and absorb the essence of the five elements for a month, we are certain to achieve a breakthrough,” Zhou Yi said to Mu Chen.

Though Mu Chen was not the brightest, he was, in Zhou Yi’s eyes, an ally. Zhou Yi, naturally generous with friends, held nothing back from him.

Mu Chen sat cross-legged and began observing Baozi, who had been at the peak of the Yellow Qi stage for over a month. Now his internal energy had turned golden; within a day, he would surely reach the Demon-Subduing Realm, and his spiritual energy would become blue. This would be an immense help in the future for finding the key.

Without further thought, Zhou Yi realized that not cultivating at such a moment would be a waste of this rare chance. The three of them sat in a circle around the stone egg, shamelessly drawing in the essence of the five elements gathered by the array.

The energy of the five elements was extremely pure, with negligible impurities. After barely two hours, Zhou Yi had already reached the peak of Blue Qi. In less than ten days, he would certainly attract heavenly thunder and face his tribulation.

Now, back to Zuo Zhi. After leaving, Zuo Zhi made his way to the cave where Zhou Yi had first entered the mountain. The entrance had not been completely sealed, and Zuo Zhi, over the past few days, would often slip out, intent on digging open this passage again.

After days of excavation, he was nearly through.

At this point, Zuo Zhi was truly isolated, with no allies to speak of—not even Zhang Zuozheng, for Zuo Zhi was an agent for Ji Yulin and the Revolutionaries. Skilled in mystical arts, he had been sent to Zhang Xun’s side to gather intelligence.

After transmitting news of Zhang Xun’s intentions to restore the monarchy, Zuo Zhi received a single order: to stop him at any cost.

By evening, Zuo Zhi finally broke through the passage. Exhausted and gasping for breath, he was in no condition to enter the mountain’s depths and had to step outside the tunnel to recover his spiritual energy before trying again.

But as Zuo Zhi crawled out of the cave and looked up, he was so startled that he screamed. Hanging from the great tree by the cave entrance was a hanged corpse, face streaked with dried blood, eyes bulging, tongue grotesquely extended.

Taken completely unawares, Zuo Zhi let out a terrified cry.

This hanged corpse was the same spirit Zhou Yi and Baozi had first seen hanging from the tree. Last time, the ghost had only shown itself briefly before disappearing.

The reason is this: both Zhou Yi and Baozi are virgins—though their cultivation is low, their hearts are pure, and thus the hanged ghost was loath to linger near them.

But Zuo Zhi was different. No longer a virgin, his conduct, while not heinous, was not without fault. In this remote mountain, with so few people, who else would the ghost seek?

Upon seeing the ghost, Zuo Zhi’s first thought was to flee, not to fight. But the hanged ghost would not let him escape and rushed toward him.

We will not dwell on Zuo Zhi’s struggle with the ghost. Instead, let us turn to Zhang Zuozheng. After Zhou Yi entered the mountain and collapsed the tunnel entrance, Zhang Zuozheng, unwilling to remain outside and with no other exit, took up a spade and began clearing the blocked earth.

Zhang Zuozheng was quite adept at such work; back in Zhuolu, he had personally dug his way into a burial pit with just a spade. Digging open this tunnel was child’s play.

To keep it brief, by the third quarter of the Hai hour, Zhang Zuozheng had broken through.

Zhou Yi was in a shallow trance, aware that both Zhang Zuozheng and Zuo Zhi would attempt to enter, but did not expect Zhang Zuozheng to lose patience so quickly and arrive within two hours.

Zhang Zuozheng did not rush into the mountain’s heart, but lingered in a karst cave, watching the three sitting cross-legged, absorbing the five elements. He let out a cold, sinister laugh.

Cultivation should never be interrupted; even a three-year-old could harm someone in deep meditation. After observing for a moment and confirming nothing seemed amiss, Zhang Zuozheng squinted and slipped out of the cave.

From outside the formation, Zhang Zuozheng could see the array’s focus points and knew this formation was key to the restoration plan, so he did not disturb them. Instead, he drew his pistol from his belt and aimed at Zhou Yi.

At the very moment his finger tightened on the trigger, Xun Feng leapt upon him from behind, knocking him to the ground and stomping hard on his shoulder. Zhang Zuozheng screamed in pain.

He quickly rolled to his feet and kicked at Xun Feng, channeling spiritual energy into his leg. Had his kick landed, Xun Feng would not have escaped unscathed.

Just as Zhang Zuozheng’s foot was about to strike, Xun Feng reared up, and the tip of his shoe grazed Xun Feng’s jaw, the force of the kick ruffling the fur atop Xun Feng’s head.

Although Xun Feng narrowly dodged, he didn’t give Zhang Zuozheng time to recover. He darted between Zhang Zuozheng’s legs and gave a sudden upward shove, causing Zhang Zuozheng to stumble off balance.

Before Xun Feng could press the attack, Zhang Zuozheng flipped to his feet with a nimble move, and as he rose, swung his arm to fire at Xun Feng.

Xun Feng was quick as lightning, but there was no time to evade; if Zhang Zuozheng fired now, the bullet would find its mark.

At that critical moment, a flash of light streaked toward Zhang Zuozheng’s wrist—it was Zhou Yi’s trusty dagger.

Zhang Zuozheng jerked back, but the trigger had already been pulled.

A sharp clang rang out as the bullet struck the thrown dagger the instant it left the barrel, splitting the blade in two. Both the halves of the dagger and the bullet fell to the ground with a clatter.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Before Zhou Yi could advance, Zhang Zuozheng turned and bolted.

“Trying to run? Leave your life here!” Baozi, who had been sitting and cultivating, suddenly leapt up, catching Zhang Zuozheng off guard.

In Baozi’s hand was a branch, as thick as a teacup. He swung it at Zhang Zuozheng, striking him squarely on the forehead.

Zhou Yi would not let such a chance for revenge slip by. He kicked off the ground, leapt up, and punched Zhang Zuozheng in the back of the head.

A normal man would have been killed or left with a broken skull by such a blow, but Zhang Zuozheng seemed unfazed. He staggered forward a few steps, then stopped.

“You forced me to this, so blame no one but yourselves,” Zhang Zuozheng said, pressing his palms together and chanting a Buddhist mantra: “Om, ma, ni, pad, me, hum.”

He recited the Great Mantra of Avalokiteshvara, enunciating each syllable. With every word, his presence grew more intimidating, and by the end, a faint purplish aura shimmered around him.

Monday, three updates.