Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

It's as if someone is making the gesture through a layer of skin, using someone else's face.

"You...have come."

His voice was hoarse. The first half of his sentence was still his own voice, but the second half suddenly seemed to have a double image, as if two or three people were pressed together and speaking at the same time.

The expressions of the people in the side hall changed simultaneously.

Rod had just delivered a small box of incense to the door when he heard that voice, and his hand trembled slightly.

Don't order it.

Xilun suddenly spoke.

Rhodes was taken aback.

Xiren continued, "Everyone, take three steps back and stop surrounding him."

Rena frowned: "You came alone?"

"This is something that can't be suppressed by simply having more people."

Xilen took two steps forward and stopped directly in front of the postman, looking down at him.

The other person tilted their head back, their smile growing increasingly eerie.

"The church says... you already know enough..."

"If we go any further... many people will die..."

"Black Dove Clock Tower...you are not welcome..."

The voice was intermittent, like a broken bellows; with each word uttered, the silver thread behind the postman's neck would tremble slightly.

Xilun ignored his threat and simply activated the echo chamber slightly.

In an instant, every subtle vibration in the hall became clear.

The burning kerosene lamp, the rustling of clothing, the rise and fall of breath...

And another kind of "sound" hidden within the postman's body.

It was like a clump of water-soaked, grayish-black fluff, tightly wrapped between the throat and the back of the head, constantly oozing out extremely fine and fragmented low tones.

Each tremor pulls one's emotions downwards, as if trying to dig out the coldest and most powerless parts of one's heart little by little.

Xilun's eyes remained unchanged, but he already knew what was going on in his mind.

Emotions are transmitted remotely, spoken through others, and the lingering echoes of pollution are preserved through stitches.

This isn't some crude, sinister thing like the Scarma Flower Fields.

There really are some experts on the other side.

"Young Master..."

Rhodes' voice tightened, "At least light a stick of incense first."

"Need not."

Xilun raised his right hand, his fingers slightly bent.

He didn't move his qi and blood, nor did he use his spear technique; he simply closed his eyes slowly for a moment.

The next instant, the Moon Memory Meditation Technique swept through the depths of his mind, and with a soft echo, the newly formed white sprout took root in his consciousness.

When Xilun opened his eyes, a nearly transparent white light had appeared on his fingertips.

The people in the side hall were all taken aback.

The white light was as thin as the tip of a newly sprouted bud in early spring; it was not bright, but surprisingly clean, which was completely out of place in the damp and gloomy room.

The postman on the ground seemed to sense something, and his body suddenly began to struggle violently, making a gurgling sound in his throat, as if he were being choked by something.

"Don't move."

Xilun's voice was very faint.

As he spoke, he squatted down and placed his fingertip directly on the silver line on the back of the other person's neck.

laugh!

With a very faint crackling sound, white smoke immediately rose from the silver wire.

The postman suddenly arched his back, opened his mouth wide, and a series of high-pitched laughs, not belonging to a human, burst out from his throat.

Rena's hands tensed, and she instinctively reached for her gun.

Xilun was faster; the white bud on his fingertip trembled slightly as he pressed down along the silver line!

"Get out here."

As soon as he finished speaking, the gray-black lingering sound that had been stuck in the postman's throat seemed to be forcibly pulled out, and a very faint wisp of black smoke was drawn out from his mouth and nose!

The black mist twisted and throbbed upwards like a thin snake, but as soon as it appeared, it was pressed down by the white bud.

A sharp, teeth-grinding screech suddenly filled the air.

The sound wasn't loud, but it made one's temples throb, and even a ruthless character like Kusuo, who was used to killing people, couldn't help but take a half step back.

But Siron remained unmoved.

As the white bud pressed down inch by inch, the wisp of black energy shattered inch by inch.

It was neither frozen to pieces by the cold air nor scattered by immense force.

Instead, it was worn away by an extremely pure and quiet "purity of mind".

Like dirty water meeting a clear spring, like ink being covered layer by layer by white snow.

Pray for the sacred bud!

In just over ten breaths, the wisp of black smoke completely dissipated into gray smoke.

The postman on the ground seemed to have his bones ripped out, collapsing to the ground with a thud, his body drenched in sweat, the eerie humming gone from his throat, leaving only heavy, real panting.

The side hall suddenly fell silent.

Even the sound of the kerosene lamp was exceptionally clear.

Rena stared at the fading white light on Xilun's fingertips, her eyes flickering slightly before she whispered after a long pause, "It's done?"

"They just removed the words that had been planted in him."

Xilun stood up, his face paler than usual, but he wasn't weak.

He glanced at the postman on the ground and continued, "The contamination wasn't deep, so it could be pulled out. If it had been half a day later, this stuff would have taken root in his brain."

Rod rushed forward and personally helped the postman up. He felt that the man still had a normal pulse and then breathed a long sigh of relief.

Kuso stared at the blackened silver thread, his face darkening: "These bastards, using living people as messengers."

The postman took a while to finally open his eyes, and a hint of human life returned to them.

When he saw Xilun, he was initially bewildered, then suddenly shivered, as if he had remembered something, and his voice became hoarse.

"Gray... gray robes... there are gray robes over at the clock tower..."

"They tied me to the well, sewed me up, and made me crawl all the way here..."

"If I don't come... they're going to take my sister away too..."

As he spoke, his eyes suddenly reddened, and his whole body trembled like a leaf.

Xilun paused for a moment, then asked, "How many people did you see?"

"I...I didn't see clearly..." The postman's face was pale. "But I heard two different voices, one young and angry, like he was cursing...the other very old and soft, like he was singing."

Xilun nodded slowly.

It was pretty much what he guessed.

Rena then pulled another note from her sleeve and handed it over.

"There's something else. This morning, a pharmacy in Black Pigeon Lane sent word that someone has been buying Tranquility Potion and Mind-Cleansing Incense for the past month. The purchases aren't large, but they're consistent, and it's always the same elderly man in a gray robe who goes to pick up the goods."

The shop owner remembered him because the man always paid precisely and never haggled, except that his hands always trembled when he took the medicine.

Xilun took the note, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Tranquil potion, a fragrance for a cleansed soul.

This kind of thing isn't for ordinary people.

It is intended to keep people alive who are exposed to high levels of pollution for extended periods and whose mental state is at risk of becoming unstable at any time.

"One is a newly promoted Tier 2, and the other is a seasoned Tier 2."

Xilun handed the paper back, his tone as calm as if he were taking inventory.

"The new one is the outside knife, responsible for transporting people, guarding the gate, and charging into battle. He is emotionally volatile and has average self-control."

The older one has been repairing this road for at least four or five years. He understands mysticism, can write about pollution, can mend sounds, and knows how to use tranquility potions and incense to sustain himself.

Rena's expression turned serious: "Could there be more?"

"We'll have some peripheral staff, but the core team will consist of these two."

Xilun looked at the postman who had just been rescued on the ground and continued, "If he were just a simple second-tier thug, he wouldn't be able to use such a method of suppressing emotions from a distance."

If they were merely mystical scholars, they wouldn't have sent the warning so closely. They're testing me, and pushing me to my limits.

"What am I forcing you to do?"

"You're making me afraid."

"You've forced me to think I can't go there before I even get close to the Black Dove Church," Siren said calmly.

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand to rub his temples, but his eyes became even colder.

A regular Tier 2 opponent would be in a lot of trouble.

It's not that we can't beat them.

Even before the real fight begins, their spirits are already being undermined.

Listening to those kinds of songs all the way down your mood, makes your chest feel emptier, slows down your judgment, slows down your actions, and in severe cases, makes you too lazy to even pull the trigger.

That's why the opposing side always keeps Tranquility Potion and Spirit Incense on hand.

They couldn't handle it themselves.

But Xilun is different.

The Moon Memory Meditation Technique stabilized his mental foundation, the Echo Chamber allowed him to clearly hear the "form" of the pollution, and the Prayer for the Holy Sprout... was just the right time to touch the most essential part of that dirty thing.

When others enter a church, they are wading through mud.

He can at least bring a brush when he goes to church.

"Rhodes".

"exist."

"These next few days, everyone in the manor should avoid going to the old parish in the south. Distribute the incense, one stick for each person on night duty, and replenish the Tranquility Potion in the storeroom."

"clear."

"Rena, keep an eye on three things: the apothecary, the cemetery, and any unfamiliar faces around the old well. Especially anyone who can consistently obtain Tranquility Potions; keep them pinned down."

"it is good."

"Kuso".

"Please speak."

"Don't send people into the church yet, it's not the right time. First, familiarize yourself with the surrounding roads, abandoned houses, ravines, and old driveways."

I need to know, when that day comes, who will emerge from where, and who will run away from where.

Kusso grinned, revealing a long-lost ruthlessness: "Understood, Governor."

Xilun nodded and turned to walk out.

As he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at the postman on the ground.

Where is your sister?

The man paused for a moment, then quickly gave the name of the place.

Xiren looked at Rena: "Send two people to bring them back. If they can't find them, wait for news outside the Black Dove Church."

"Yes."

The door opened, and a damp breeze from outside rushed in, causing the kerosene lamp to flicker.

Xilun stepped out, his expression calm, but a deep chill had already settled in his eyes.

The other side was warning him.

well.

Since they're willing to take the initiative to lend a hand, it means they're also in a hurry.

That evening, Xilun did not return to his study.

He had someone deliver a copy of "Prayer for the Holy Sprout," Yin Spirit Water, and Cold Marrow Supplement to the waterfall behind the mountain. He then took off his coat, stepped onto the cold, slippery stone steps, and walked into the roaring water.

As night fell, a large plume of white mist rose from beneath the waterfall.

That's because someone is in the water, slowly letting the chill seep into their bones.

In the days that followed, few people in the North District saw Xilun.

Several groups of people from the newspaper arrived, but were turned away at the door.

Smaller powers would send visiting cards, wine, women, and money as gifts, but never visit the mansions.

Even the quota of armor sent by the Tusol family as usual was only delivered to the gatehouse by Black Star's men, and they didn't even step into the main hall.

Everyone outside is speculating.

Some say that Siron was seriously injured in the Battle of Scamenas and is hiding to recover.

Some say he has acquired a secret technique from the Tusor family and is currently in seclusion, attempting to delve deeper into the mystical realm.

Some say that the Black Dove Church has already issued a statement, and the young North District Governor is frightened and dares not take another step south.

Various rumors circulated between the tavern and the dock.

Only a few people, such as Rhodes, Reina, and Kusso, truly know what the mountain behind the mansion looks like.

As dawn broke, the waterfall behind the mountain was already deafeningly loud.

Xilun sat cross-legged on a protruding blue stone, shirtless, with water cascading down from above like a silvery-white wall pressing down on his shoulders and back.

In the first few days, he could only sit under the waterfall for half an hour.

Half an hour later, my arms went numb, my ribs felt cold, and even the cold breath condensed by the Xuan Yin breathing technique was dissipated.

But on the seventh day, the situation changed.

As he exhaled, tiny ice crystals began to appear in the mist.

With each breath, it felt as if a heavy, cold mass was contracting, compressing, and then expanding deep within my chest.

The chill no longer just lingered on the surface of the skin and flesh, but penetrated layer by layer along the tendons, bones, and the edges of the internal organs.

One morning, Rhodes stood at a distance and watched as the stone beneath the waterfall first turned white. Then, a thin ring of ice patterns spread out from under Xilun, crawling along the edge of the water for a full half-zhang before slowly cracking under the scouring of the torrent.

His heart tightened when he saw it.

This is no longer the kind of chilling power that a typical second-tier cultivator could possess.

After all, he had invested a lot of resources, and his talent wasn't bad either, so he finally managed to master the Xuan Yin Qi.

Waterfall training, afternoon tempering of iron armor, evening practice of shooting, late-night nurturing of buds.

Xilun's days were filled to the brim.

At noon, Kusuo would bring people carrying over driftwood, lead bags, and iron chains.

Sometimes they would tie iron chains around Xilun's waist and make him drag dozens or hundreds of pounds of weight back and forth on the hillside; other times, several people would hold thick wooden stakes and take turns ramming them against his shoulders, back, and ribs, forcing him to withstand the force of his bone-forged iron armor all the way.

For the first ten days or so, Xilun was covered in bruises, and his back was so badly damaged by the waterfall and wooden stakes that it looked like cracked old skin.

But he just wouldn't stop.

Each time the energy is about to dissipate, the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Method will cause a dull tremor in the internal organs, pressing that shattered energy inward by half an inch.

Half a month later, when Kusuo swung the wooden stake at the target again, the sound no longer resembled the impact of flesh and blood.

It's more like hitting an old sheet of iron soaked in oil.

It was heavy, dull, and had a slight, teeth-grinding resonance.

"Governor, your skin and flesh are almost unrecognizable as human skin."

One afternoon, Kusso rubbed his numb wrist and couldn't help but grimace and mutter.

Xilun pulled a towel to wipe the water off her neck, her tone calm: "It's still a long way off."

"Is that still far off?" Kusuo gasped. "If you keep practicing like this, I'm afraid the brothers' training posts will break first."

"Then let's switch to stone balls."

"..."

Kusso choked for a moment, unable to respond.

Rod, standing nearby, seemed to be used to it all along, and simply made a note in his notebook: "We need to repair the stone materials in the back mountain and add two more truckloads."

Evening is when it's truly terrifying to watch.

Natan's heavy-armored spear technique is inherently a style of spearmanship with extremely heavy killing power.

It is powerful, heavy, and emphasizes a direct, overwhelming attack.

When Xilun first trained it, he relied more on his physical strength to push it hard. When he threw it, the wind would explode and stones could be shattered on the spot.

But as he delved deeper into the Xuan Yin Breathing Technique, his spear began to slowly change.

It's no longer just about being heavy.

Instead, it is heavy with coldness, and within that coldness lies penetrating power.

On a cleared area behind the mountain, a dozen thick wooden stakes were buried in a line, and scrap iron, stone targets, and several old axles were piled up around them.

Xilun held the spear barehanded, and with a flick of the gold thread at his waist, the nine-foot-long golden spear fell heavily into his palm.

call--

The first shot was a simple, straightforward thrust.

The spear tip cut through the wind without making a loud explosion, only producing a very fine screech at the moment of impact, so fast it was as if the air had been stretched into a line.

Snapped!

The foremost wooden stake was pierced directly, and the second stake behind it was immediately shaken, with large patches of icy white cracks appearing on its surface.

With another shot, Xilun swept through.

The gun barrel, trailing a dull gust of wind, slammed through the air, whipping up a layer of rubble within half a meter, and instantly covering the edges of nearby grass blades with a layer of frost.

The third shot was fired downwards.

With a loud bang, the entire old axle was smashed half a foot into the ground, and the surrounding mud exploded, scattering ice shards everywhere.

Kuso and the others watched from a distance, feeling a tightness in their chests from the shockwave.

Rhodes remained calm, but every time he saw the golden spear fall to the ground, his eyelids would twitch uncontrollably.

[Successfully completed a marksmanship practice session. Natan Heavy Armor Marksmanship Experience +1!]

[Successfully completed a marksmanship practice session. Natan Heavy Armor Marksmanship Experience +1!]

[Successfully completed a marksmanship practice session. Natan Heavy Armor Marksmanship Experience +1!]