After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

Jiang Dusheng let out a muffled groan. The interfering sound waves emitted by the bone flute in her hand were almost dissipated by the overwhelming Buddhist power. She took two steps back before she could regain her footing.

Xie Jinchen and his guards also felt as if their brains had been struck by a hammer, their blood and qi surged, and their movements became instantly sluggish.

Almost simultaneously, a rapid whooshing sound came from the forest on the other side. Several dark figures arrived before their sharp blades struck, heading straight for the side of the monk who was slightly stiff after forming hand seals.

These were Xie Jinchen's elite secret guards who had been lying in wait for their opportunity.

However, the Buddhist light emanating from the monk sent all the guards flying.

Inside the bone flute, Wang Dazhuang and Ruan Guyan anxiously watched the horrific battle outside through the gaps in the spiritual energy flowing as Jiang Dusheng played the bone flute.

Amidst the clash of swords, the interplay of Buddhist and malevolent forces, and the splatter of blood, people fell every moment.

Wang Dazhuang was trembling with anxiety. "Master! This...this...they're all bald monks and ruthless people on the other side who know magic! Relying on our guards to fight them head-on won't do any good!"

He watched as yet another guard was struck by the Buddhist staff, coughing up blood and collapsing to the ground. "If all else fails... release me! I'll self-destruct my soul, blasting him until his face is a bloody mess. At least I can take one or two with me, lightening the burden on you and the young master!"

Wang Dazhuang spoke with great passion, appearing ready to die for his cause, but then he suddenly remembered something and added timidly, his voice lowering:

"Of course... Master, you are incredibly powerful. When the time comes, please remember to help me gather my soul. I... I don't want to just disappear like this. I want to follow you in my next life..."

Ruan Guyan's voice followed, filled with gratitude: "Miss Jiang, I have avenged my great enemy, and my obsession has been extinguished. I have no more attachments to leaving this remnant soul in the world."

"You have given me a second chance at life and provided me with a place to live. Now that I am in danger, please let me do my part. Although my soul power is weak, if I burn my soul body, I may be able to disturb the enemy's mind a little."

"No way!" Wang Dazhuang shouted immediately, "Ruan, you're still young, you haven't been a ghost for long, don't try to take it from me! If anyone's going to explode, it'll be me first! I'm tough... ah, I mean, my soul is tough!"

Jiang Dusheng was concentrating on dealing with the aftershocks of a Vajra Buddha light when he heard this, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.

As she dodged a piece of rubble that had been sent flying by the force of the energy, she gritted her teeth and hissed:

"Shut up, all of you! Stay put!"

However, the current situation is indeed critical.

The monks' burning essence and blood possessed astonishing power.

Xie Dai and Shi Qinglian, while restraining each other, occasionally unleashed their deadly moves.

Although the guards were brave and fearless, their casualties were rapidly increasing in the face of enemies of this caliber and chaotic attacks, and they were on the verge of collapse.

Although Xie Jinchen could use his killing intent, he tried his best to suppress it to prevent losing control of his consciousness, and he was still struggling and in danger.

Jiang Dusheng's gaze swept rapidly across the battlefield, his mind racing.

A brute-force approach won't work; we must use skill.

While the monks' Lion's Roar mudra is powerful, it is extremely energy-consuming and requires a high degree of mental concentration to maintain the resonance between the mudra and Buddhist power…

Just as Jiang Dusheng was still pondering a solution—

"Hahahaha!"

A loud laugh suddenly exploded in the valley.

The laughter was so powerful that it made people's eardrums buzz, temporarily drowning out the roar of the battle below.

Everyone involuntarily slowed down, their attention diverted, and looked toward the source of the laughter.

Not far away, at the top of a crooked old pine tree, an old man dressed in a drab gray Taoist robe was squatting.

The old man, with his white hair and beard but ruddy complexion, grinned as he looked down with great interest at the people fighting fiercely below.

While picking his ear, he shook his head and shouted loudly in Jiang Dusheng's direction:

"My good disciple! I knew it! I could smell that bald monk's stench from a hundred miles away, mixed with some of our Taoist's pure energy, creating a murky atmosphere. Turns out it really was you making a scene here!"

He winked and pointed at the group of bald monks below, then at Shi Qinglian, who was exchanging palm strikes with Xie Dai:

"Tsk tsk, where did you get so many monks to play with? They don't even call you 'Master,' how ungrateful! All that pampering for you was for nothing!"

He casually patted his behind and stood up from the treetop, his body swaying in the wind, the slender treetop looking as if it would break at any moment.

His posture, however, remained as steady as a mountain. He even stretched lazily and continued to chuckle, his voice echoing throughout the valley:

"How could I miss out on such an exciting fight? My good disciple, take a break and watch your master!"