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Chapter 42 Masked Man

Golden Bell Temple.

Backyard Zen room.

Two barbarians disguised as monks were kneeling on a cushion.

Outside the door, the sound of weapons clashing and screams could be heard continuously.

"Helmsman."

The sharp-mouthed monk was worried: "Xiang Tingchun has sent people to surround the Golden Bell Temple. What should we do? If the Jade Key falls into their hands, wouldn't it be..."

The man called the helmsman was calmer.

He took out a piece of jade from his arms and handed it to the sharp-mouthed monk.

"Captain?!"

The sharp-mouthed monk looked panicked: "Absolutely not, the immortal treasure is of great importance, how can you hand it over to me?"

"Xiang Tingchun knows me."

The captain said calmly, "He will definitely cling to me. The thing is not safe in my hands. I will hold Xiang back. You try to escape. If you really can't, hide the jade key."

The sharp-mouthed monk took the item carefully and said, "Are we really going to die here today? It's all because of that damned rebel who gave the treasure away. Otherwise, the Tuoba and Yuwen tribes would have united to unify the grasslands and would have broken through the Dasheng court and replaced it in no time!"

"No need to panic."

The middle-aged man really looked like a high monk, speaking calmly and gently: "Even if we fail, the leader and the Khan still have a backup plan, at most they can exchange benefits with the old emperor of the Sheng Dynasty.

"He's coming soon, go now."

"Yes!"

The sharp-mouthed monk took the jade key, climbed out the window and disappeared.

"boom--"

A corpse was like a huge rock, smashing down the wooden door of the Zen room.

Xiang Tingchun stepped on the corpse and walked through the door. The long knife in his hand was dripping with blood. He said word by word: "Give me the thing."

"Ah~"

The captain sighed softly and took out two bronze maces from behind: "Master Qianhu doesn't even know what a fairy treasure is, why go to so much trouble?"

"When you die, I will be able to figure it out."

In the Zen room, the knife flashed.

……

About twenty minutes passed after the whistle sounded.

People on the mountain began to flee towards the group guarding the path.

"Prepare!"

General Fang raised his hand, ready to give orders.

"Help!"

"The monk from the Golden Bell Temple killed someone!"

"..."

As the crowd got closer, the officers and soldiers realized something was wrong.

There were at least a hundred people running down the mountain.

The Wushen Cult is not attacking with a large army. It is possible for a few dozen people to sneak into the country by taking the small paths in the wild mountains and wilderness. How could there be so many?

It is obvious at a glance that most of them are ordinary people.

"Wait a minute!"

General Fang hurriedly stopped the archers who were about to shoot and shouted to the crowd, "Stop! Don't go down the mountain, everyone stop!"

"Sir, there are monks killing people in the Golden Bell Temple!"

"Help me, sir, let me go, let me go!"

"..."

The panicked crowd was unwilling to listen.

"Pfft-"

Fang Zongqi drew out his goose-feather knife and shouted sternly, "I told you to stop, don't you understand? Anyone who takes another step forward will be regarded as a Wushen follower and will be killed without mercy!"

Seeing the gleaming silver blade, people were forced to stop.

Chen Sanshi looked at the chaotic scene before him and knew that many innocent people would die today.

It seems that in order not to alert the enemy, this captain would rather have a few more civilians die.

"Don't move! Anyone who moves will be shot to death!" General Fang said vigilantly: "Ma Qi officer! Most of the Wushen Sect are barbarians. You take a team and check and interrogate them one by one!"

Fortunately, they are of a different race after all. Even if they are disguised in clothing, their facial features and accents are still different. In addition, by questioning their family background and residence, it will take some time to tell them apart.

It was clear that he couldn't hide any longer.

The Wushen followers in the crowd couldn't hold back.

A man dressed as a rich man raised his hand and slapped an old man in front of him on the back of the heart.

The old man spat out a mouthful of blood mist and died on the spot.

The crowd, which had finally been brought under control, began to riot again. Everyone screamed and fled in panic in all directions.

"Brothers, kill, fight your way out—"

The Wushen followers no longer pretended, and drew their personal weapons, taking advantage of the chaos to attack.

"Don't panic!"

General Fang shouted as he fought with the rich man, and he did not forget to command: "Each small flag will form a team, cooperate with each other, and form a formation to surround and kill!!!"

The Wushen cult members apparently fled in all directions.

Therefore, the number of people they encountered was not large, only seven or eight, and there were no masters in the Bone Training Realm. It seemed that the masters had broken through from other directions.

Chen Sanshi directed his men and cooperated with another flag officer to surround a one-eyed man.

Zhu Tong, Wang Li and others took spears and stabbed the believers from all directions.

The man was at the minor stage of blood refining. He held two swords in his hands and slashed wildly. He finally managed to get close to the crowd by brute force, but was immediately forced back by the shield and sword soldiers and fell into a tough fight again.

In addition, the army had the cooperation of a flag officer who had also achieved a small level of success in blood refining. Within ten rounds, the Witch God cultists were fully exposed to flaws and were pierced by spears with bloody holes all over their bodies.

This is the army!

The sects in the martial arts world do not have this kind of fighting power.

Chen Sanshi was not idle either. He could draw a large bow like a full moon and shoot an arrow as soon as the string was drawn.

The wolf-tooth arrow pierced through the gaps in the chaotic crowd and directly pierced the face of a Witch God cultist who was over a hundred steps away. His head was nailed to the tree trunk with a "bang", and he died instantly without any pain.

"go to hell--"

A Witch God cultist who had achieved a small level of success in blood refining came from the flank, raised the crescent-shaped scimitar in his hand and attempted a sneak attack.

How could Chen Sanshi not hear it with his good hearing?

He had been waiting for a long time, and the moment the other party raised his knife, he turned around and shot an arrow.

The two men were no more than ten steps apart. The impact of the two stone bows caused the attacker to fall backwards. Before he could hit the ground, he was caught up by a spear. The spear blade scratched his neck, separating his head from his body. His head rolled down the hillside like a cuju.

The melee didn't last too long.

The army had large numbers and was soon able to trap the Witch God followers. Even if they resisted stubbornly, they probably wouldn't be able to hold out for long.

"I don't know what's going on in the main battlefield."

Chen Sanshi looked towards the direction of Jinzhong Temple.

Did Xiang Tingchun get what he wished for?

He held a reed spear in hand, ready to help resolve the battle quickly.

"dart out--"

Dozens of feet away, the unusual sound of branches being stepped on and broken could be heard.

Someone had been hiding for a long time and was about to escape during the chaos.

A fish that slipped through the net!

Chen Sanshi immediately followed the noise.

Across the woods, he saw a brown figure flash by in the distance.

There are dense trees ahead, and the view is mostly blocked.

Chen Sanshi tracked the enemy all the way relying on his hearing and the footprints on the ground. At the same time, he remained cautious and did not take risks too aggressively. After all, he did not know the enemy's level, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was not until he had walked several miles and his vision became wider that he was able to see the person he was looking for.

A bald monk with a pointed chin and monkey cheeks, wearing a monk's robe, but there are ear holes on his ears where decorations were worn, which is obviously not the dressing style of the people in the Sheng Dynasty.

Chen Sanshi drew his bow and was about to shoot an arrow when another group of people approached quickly.

This group of people held ordinary long swords in their hands, and each of them wore black clothes and covered their faces with black cloth. There were four people in total. They blocked all the ways and stopped the sharp-mouthed monk.

Third party forces?
Chen Sanshi thought one of the masked men looked familiar: "Is it him?"

He held his breath and hid himself, watching from the dark.

(End of this chapter)