Begin your practice with the crane-shaped stance.

Chapter 130 Attack (3rd update, please vote)

After Xia Dong, Zhao Ting, and the others had made preparations and assembled, they led the elite troops of their garrison to the sword cultivator's secret realm in Nan Yue Province to provide support.

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Entering the Southern Yue Province, deep within the Ten Thousand Mountains.

Along the way to the Sword Cultivation Secret Realm, the surrounding area was shrouded in miasma, like thick ink that could not be dissolved, making the already towering ancient trees that blocked out the sky look like ghostly shadows ready to devour people.

Xia Dong, Zhao Ting, and Pei Hongling's Eagle Wolf Guard support team are struggling through this suffocatingly dangerous place.

Constrained by the harsh environment and the ubiquitous poisonous miasma, the marching speed of the team was forced to slow down significantly.

The damp, stifling air, mixed with the stench of humus, was so oppressive that even the seasoned Eagle Wolf Guards felt suffocated.

Zhao Ting was extremely careful throughout the journey, keeping a close eye on his men, forbidding them from drinking outside water, eating food of unknown origin, or leaving the group. His spiritual sense never relaxed within the group.

Pei Hongling stayed close to Xia Dong, secretly using her magic to resist the erosion of the miasma and constantly observing the surroundings.

:

On the surface, Xia Dong released the blood and qi cultivation of a Transcendent Realm martial artist, but in secret, his divine sense, which far surpassed that of his peers who had reached the early Foundation Establishment stage, had already quietly spread out like ripples on water.

Just as the group stepped into a darker area, Xia Dong felt a slight stirring in his heart.

With his keen perception, he accurately detected a strange, cold fluctuation deep within the turbid, surging miasma.

That was by no means a miasma naturally generated by heaven and earth, but rather a kind of evil, deathly aura that was deliberately concealed but still leaked out.

Xia Dong kept quiet to avoid alerting the enemy.

His expression remained unchanged; he merely moved his lips slightly, concentrating his voice into a single line, which was then transmitted directly to Zhao Ting and Pei Hongling's ears: "There's an ambush. Have the troops tighten their formation, making the outer perimeter loose while keeping the inner perimeter tight, ready to form a battle array at any time."

Upon hearing the telepathic message, Zhao Ting's heart tightened, but their long-standing tacit understanding allowed him to instantly grasp Xia Dong's intention; Pei Hongling, on the other hand, felt a chill run down her spine.

Without making a sound, the two quickly and subtly formed a defensive wall by using hand gestures and secret signals to bring the somewhat loosely organized team together.

The group continued onward and happened to enter a narrow valley with treacherous terrain.

"Waaah."

Just then, the eerie and mournful sound of bone flutes suddenly ripped through the deathly silence!

The flute music seemed to bewitch and seduce, sweeping in with a nauseating, fishy smell.

In an instant, the mud churned and the withered tree snapped.

The densely packed "witch puppets," covered in green hair and emitting a nauseating stench, roared and pounced from all directions like demons crawling out of the abyss of hell.

Although their movements were stiff, their numbers were enormous, and they felt no pain. In an instant, they cut off all the Eagle Wolf Guards' retreat routes like a tidal wave.

"Hahaha! In my eyes, you lackeys of the imperial court are nothing but mediocre!"

With a wild and shrill laugh, a figure draped in a blood-red robe slowly emerged from the cliff face high in the valley.

The newcomer was a hall master of the Wusheng Sect, whose body was surging with magical power, revealing that he had reached the pinnacle of Qi cultivation.

He looked down at the Eagle Wolf Guards trapped at the bottom of the valley, his eyes full of mockery.

Seeing this, Xia Dong laughed instead of being surprised, "Has the Wusheng Sect fallen so low? I remember that the hall masters of the Wusheng Sect used to be at least at the Foundation Establishment level."

His sigh seemed to have struck a nerve with the blood-robed hall master.

Blood-Robed Hall Master: "It's alright. If I intercept and kill you, I can use this merit to successfully establish my foundation."

He chuckled smugly, "You bunch of lackeys, do you really think we're fools? My sect only let out a little rumor about attacking the secret realm, and you lackeys have already sprung into action. Heh heh, our sect's target isn't some unknown secret realm, it's you lackeys of the imperial court. Killing you will just make up for the losses our sect has suffered over the years."

In recent years, the Wusheng Sect has been severely harmed by false information leaked by the Tongxuan Division.

Many people came to the Wusheng Sect to ask for the secret to achieving the Purple Mansion.

This has disrupted the Wusheng Sect's efforts to re-cultivate the Sacred Heart Lotus Seed, and has resulted in a significant loss of influence.

Recently, cooperation with the barbarian witch tribe has gradually brought things back to a better state.

However, over the past few years, the core members of the church have become far less capable than before.

On the other side, Zhao Ting's expression darkened.

So the plan above went wrong.

Those who rushed to provide support ended up delivering food instead.

The blood-robed hall master arrogantly spread his arms, and from the miasma behind him, several barbarian witch cultivators with strange totems painted on their bodies appeared and disappeared, controlling more and more witch ghost puppets to approach.

"Today, you will all remain here and become the blood and sustenance of my holy religion!"

"Waaaaahh ...

Hidden in the miasma of the shadows, the barbarian shaman puffed out his cheeks and desperately blew the pale bone flute in his hand.

The mournful and eerie flute music seemed like a death knell, driving the already sluggish witch puppets into a frenzy. Like tireless meat grinders, they launched a suicidal attack on the Eagle Wolf Guard's defensive formation without fear of death.

Although the creation of the Witch Ghost Puppet is difficult, for the Witch Clan's shamans, as long as they win this battle, they can use the materials available locally and, with the help of the Wusheng Sect, quickly replenish their losses.

The seasoned Eagle Wolf Guards wielded their standard-issue longswords, forged from fine steel, and slashed fiercely at the puppets charging at the forefront, producing only dull thuds like striking leather.

These monsters, covered in green fur, felt no pain and possessed immense strength.

A massive puppet charged forward, braving the blade, and ripped off the arm of one of the imperial guards.

A heart-wrenching scream instantly ripped through the dark and oppressive forest. In just a few breaths, the well-trained Eagle Wolf Guards began to suffer casualties, and the pungent smell of blood drove the puppets from all directions even more frenzied.

High on the cliff, the Blood-Robed Hall Master grinned maliciously and waved his hand.

He led the outer followers of the Wusheng Sect to unleash insidious spells.

In an instant, countless foul-smelling, blood-red spears and filthy blood nets condensed in mid-air, pouring down like a torrential rain onto the formation at the bottom of the valley, forming an impenetrable magical firepower suppression.

The Eagle Wolf Guards were already struggling to withstand the fearless puppet tide, and now, with the high-intensity spell bombardment from above, they were immediately plunged into a desperate and passive situation of being attacked.

Zhao Ting gritted his teeth and led his men, back to back, in a desperate struggle to maintain their defensive formation, which was on the verge of collapse.

Watching his men fall one by one, Xia Dong's face was ashen.

Only after finding no higher-level enemies lying in ambush did he relax, gripping the incredibly heavy rusty knife tightly. The vast blood and qi within him surged wildly like a river bursting its banks, ready to be unleashed.

Meanwhile, Pei Hong's hands moved swiftly, forming hand seals, and her pure wood-elemental magic power poured out without reservation.

The ancient trees and swamps that were originally dead and rotten seemed to be summoned by some strong force, and suddenly began to churn violently.

"Senra Binding!"

As the incantation was activated, countless thick, dark green vines, as thick as pythons and studded with sharp barbs, burst forth from the ground in an instant.

These vines, as if possessing a life of their own, frantically coiled and tightened, binding the dozens of witch-demon puppets at the forefront firmly to their original positions.

Sharp wooden spikes pierced the puppets' decaying flesh, causing them no pain, but they did significantly slow the puppet horde's frenzied attack. At the same time, she summoned a small green wooden shield and suspended it above her head, letting out wisps of green light, barely managing to defend against the blood magic falling from mid-air.

Pei Hongling bit her lower lip, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on her forehead.

Although this wood-based spell temporarily stabilized the situation and bought the precarious Eagle Wolf Guards a precious respite, it consumed a great deal of mana.

"I didn't expect her strength to be even greater than I anticipated," Xia Dong thought to himself in surprise.

The blood-robed hall master on the cliff was taken aback at first.

"There's actually a master hiding here." The blood-robed hall master's chilling aura spread downwards like a venomous snake, locking onto Pei Hongling below, who was casting a spell and swaying slightly. Then, he raised his hand and unleashed a pale green poisonous fire spell, heading straight for Pei Hongling at the bottom of the valley.

Pei Hongling had nowhere to avoid it and was about to grit her teeth and take the hit when a figure suddenly sprang up.

It is summer or winter.

He compressed his Transcendent Realm blood and qi to the extreme, and the Crane Shadow Step erupted.

He transformed into a blinding crimson streak, neither dodging nor avoiding, smashing through the three heavily armored witch ghost puppets blocking his way, and hurtling straight towards the high cliff.

While suspended in mid-air, Xia Dong pulled out the rusty wood-chopping knife hanging at his waist.

A hint of surprise flashed in the eyes of the Blood-Robed Hall Master, but he quickly suppressed the tremor in his heart.

The opponent is coming against the tide, and their momentum will inevitably weaken.

However, in the next instant, Xia Dong, with the martial intent of the Transcendent Realm, forcefully activated the starting stance of the Demonic Sect martial art "Asura Yin Sha Blade".

Before the blade even arrived, an extremely cold and incomparably violent Asura demonic energy surged into the sky, forcefully splitting the dense miasma along the way in two.

That pure killing intent and demonic aura was exceptionally fierce, even more evil and terrifying than the heretical spells of the Wusheng Sect.

The composure in the Blood Robe Hall Master's heart instantly turned into horror. He sensed a real and deadly threat and frantically activated the magic power in his body, desperately raising three blood-colored spiritual energy shields at the perfect level of Qi Refining in front of him.

However, Xia Dong secretly mobilized his vast divine sense from the early stage of Foundation Establishment, transforming it into an invisible spike that pierced the Blood Robe Hall Master's sea of ​​consciousness.

A shocking stab!

This was a supernatural power he learned from the jade slip he obtained from the monk Cixiang's storage bag.

This supernatural power has no place among those of the same level.

Because at the same level of spiritual cultivation, their sea of ​​consciousness is solid, and it is impossible for a similarly leveled Divine Strike to harm them.

Using this supernatural power might backfire and harm yourself.

However, using this divine power to subdue lower-level cultivators is virtually invincible.

Similar supernatural powers include the Vajra Lion's Roar of Buddhism, which is a group-based spiritual attack. However, this supernatural power also requires a high level of martial arts cultivation, and few people in Buddhism have mastered it.

At that moment, the Divine Thrust was unleashed. The Blood-Robed Hall Master couldn't help but let out a shrill scream, his body suddenly stiffening, and the flow of his internal magic power stagnating.

The rust-covered woodcutter, imbued with terrifying martial energy and demonic intent, shattered the three precarious spiritual energy shields with unstoppable force.

With a muffled "crack," the heavy woodcutter's knife, along with the protective magic weapon in the master's hand, was cleaved in two from head to toe by the arrogant leader of the Wusheng Church.

Blood, entrails, and mangled body parts were scattered across the cliff face.

"Well done, as expected of Xia Yidao!" Zhao Ting shouted in approval.

The morale of his Eagle Wolf Guards also soared.

After all, capturing enemy generals and flags has always been the most morale-boosting tactic throughout history.

:

Xia Dong's strike was swift and decisive, like a demon descending from the depths of hell.

Scalding blood, along with the two halves of the corpse, crashed heavily to the bottom of the valley, drenching several members of the Wusheng Cult who were still charging forward in a frenzied state.

sluggish.

A deathly stillness.

One moment the hall master was looking down on the Eagle Wolf Guards and shouting that he would turn them into blood food, the next moment he was turned into a pile of minced meat.

The fanatical bloodlust of the Wusheng cult members vanished instantly, replaced by an undisguised terror.

"The Hall Master is dead!"

Someone shouted angrily, and the Wusheng Cult members who were maintaining the magical suppression on the periphery were thrown into chaos.

Some people instinctively retreated, while others even broke the spells in their hands, causing the blood-red spears and filthy blood nets that filled the sky to thin out instantly.

Let alone evil cultivators, even a regular army would react instinctively to its commander being killed on the battlefield, with trees falling and lakes scattering.

However, before these terrified followers could turn and flee, an extremely sharp and piercing sound of a bone flute suddenly rang out from the depths of the narrow valley.

This flute music was different from the low, mournful tone used when controlling the puppets; instead, it carried a violent quality that seemed capable of piercing eardrums and tearing apart the soul.

"Useless! A bunch of good-for-nothings who can accomplish nothing but ruin everything!"

Accompanied by harsh, angry, hoarse curses, the dense, impenetrable miasma ahead seemed to be violently torn apart by a pair of invisible hands.

An old man with a hunched back and covered in twisted, blood-red totems slowly emerged from the depths of the miasma, leaning on a pale white bone staff.

His gaunt face was covered in tattoos, and eerie green flames flickered in his deep-set eyes as he coldly surveyed the fleeing members of the Unborn Cult.

This is a highly experienced barbarian shaman.

"Since you useless lot can't even stop a few henchmen of the imperial court, then keeping your flesh and blood is a waste. Rather than deserting in the face of battle, you might as well sacrifice yourselves to the great sorcerer!"

Before he could finish speaking, the old wizard suddenly raised his bone staff and began chanting obscure and difficult-to-understand barbaric incantations.

As the incantation was activated, the Wusheng Cult members who had already turned and fled suddenly froze in place as if they had been frozen in place, and then let out heart-wrenching screams.

"Ah! My blood! What are you doing!"

"No—let me go—"

To the astonishment of the Eagle Wolf Guards, the bodies of dozens of members of the Wusheng Sect seemed to be instantly compressed by some invisible, terrifying force.

Their skin cracked inch by inch, and their essence, magic power, and even their screaming souls all leaked out uncontrollably, turning into streaks of scarlet blood that frantically converged in front of the old wizard.

In the blink of an eye, these followers were completely drained of their flesh and blood, turning into a pile of dry ashes.

Having absorbed the blood, flesh, and resentment of dozens of cultivators, a pitch-black, extremely viscous shadow suddenly appeared in front of the old wizard.

The shadow began to expand and writhe violently, as if some extremely terrifying evil creature was emerging from within it.

"Hehehe—Come out, my darling!" A morbid fanaticism appeared on the old wizard's face.

A piercing, shrill cry, like countless wailing infants weaving together, suddenly erupted from the shadows, shaking the withered trees at the bottom of the valley to the point of shattering.

As the shadows dissipated, a terrifying ghost, over two zhang tall and covered in corpse fluid and blackish-red resentment, suddenly appeared before everyone's eyes.

This ghost had the pale, swollen face of a female corpse, with her eyes rolled back and her hair disheveled. On her huge, bulging belly, there were hundreds of grotesque, struggling, and biting blue-purple infant heads!

A hundred-child mother-and-child Yin evil spirit!

boom!

The moment the mother and child Yin Sha ghosts took shape, a pressure at the "early Foundation Establishment" level, like a tangible black storm, swept wildly outwards from its center in all directions.

The Eagle Wolf Guards, whose morale had been boosted by Xia Dong's stunning strike, were suddenly struck by this spiritual pressure, as if doused with a bucket of ice water, making even breathing extremely difficult.

Many of the weaker members of the Imperial Guards collapsed to the ground, their knees buckling and their faces turning deathly pale.

Zhao Ting, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, was now feeling tense.

"Evil spirits at the Foundation Establishment stage—"

Pei Hongling's delicate body trembled slightly, and her face turned deathly pale.

The wood-elemental magic within her body became extremely sluggish under the suppression of this extremely yin and evil death energy, and there were even faint signs of being backfired.

In her extreme fear, she instinctively turned her gaze to the man in front of her, who held a rusty woodcutter's knife and whose back was still upright.

In an instant, the terrifying, suffocating pressure, like a tangible haze, once again locked down on every Eagle Wolf Guard at the bottom of the valley.

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