Chapter 64: Captives
Shan Wuya, the head of the Wanjun Sect, sat on the main seat, looking at the surging crowd, and then turned to look at his direct disciple.
He holds the gun but does not fire, yet with every move he makes clouds and rain appear.
Shan Wuya felt secretly relieved. Finally, he stood up, looked around the audience, and said solemnly:
"It is the popular will of the people, and our Wanjun Sect dares not refuse. I propose that we nominate our disciple Wen Renshou as the leader of the Anti-Demon Righteous Alliance, to command all the heroes and jointly resist this obstacle."
"We must win! We must win! We must win!" The thunderous response condensed into a sharp aura.
A decisive battle between good and evil that swept across the entire martial arts world officially began the moment Wen Rensu held the command flag.
And his confrontation with Ling Zheng will become the core of this storm.
Wen Rensu stood on the stage, his posture as straight as a pine tree, his appearance as elegant as a jade tree, facing the gazes of the crowd with an open mind. He looked righteous and awe-inspiring, but in fact he was obviously distracted.
The official meeting with Ling Zheng in the near future will be as an "old enemy". Is the identity of the leader of the righteous path still a good match? Ling Jiaozhu.
He chewed over the name in his mind, and a meaningful smile flashed across his eyes.
In front of the Wanjun Mountain Gate, dark clouds covered the city, and the autumn wind was blowing fiercely, blowing up the dust and dead grass on the ground, making a sound almost like sobbing.
The demonic cultists, dressed in black, were crowded together, their swords gleaming with a cold hue.
The heroes of the Central Plains had already gathered on the city walls, their faces tense, their weapons clenched. Ever since Ling Zheng issued the declaration of war, the location had been set at the Wanjun Sect, and they had been fully prepared.
Amidst the black-clad cultists, a massive ebony sedan chair loomed. Ling Zheng, clad in a black robe with golden patterns, sat upright within. He wore no crown, his dark hair casually tied back, and exuded an undeniable aura of power.
In front of the chariot window, a gloomy gaze passed over thousands of soldiers and firmly locked onto the tall figure at the front of the city wall.
Wen Rensu, dressed in white as white as snow, held a simple longsword, the tip of which was pointed at an angle, and stood alone on the battlement. The strong wind lifted his sleeves, making them rustle.
Seeing the person he had been thinking about day and night, Ling Zheng leaned back on the sedan chair, with a sarcastic arc at the corner of his lips.
He slowly raised his hand, holding a tattered robe soaked in rusty red blood, and threw it casually with his wrist.
The blood-stained robe was infused with internal energy, drawing a parabola and hanging accurately on the battlement where Wen Rensu was.
"Ling has specially prepared a small gift," he said, his voice hoarse, yet it mysteriously penetrated the wind and sand, reaching everyone's ears clearly, "Congratulations to Hero Wenren on becoming the leader of the alliance."
The blood letter left at Xuantian Gate left a deep impression on everyone. When Ling Zheng said this, there was an uproar on the city wall. Countless eyes were instantly focused on Wen Rensu, some in shock, some inquiring.
Wen Rensu looked at the blood-stained robe with a calm expression, his face showing neither joy nor anger. He crossed the hundred-meter distance and met Ling Zheng's hateful eyes. His voice was steady:
"Master Ling." He emphasized the word "Master" with a subtle calmness, as if he was just chatting with an old friend, rather than fighting against each other.
"The dispute between you and me has nothing to do with others, and it has nothing to do with the world." He glanced at the glaring blood-stained clothes, "Why mobilize so many troops?"
Wen Rensu admitted it! He didn't care whether Ling Zheng knew the truth or not, and he was hinting that their feud didn't need the Imperial Master as an excuse to start.
Originally, when Ling Zheng heard the word "leader" from Wen Rensu's mouth, his heart trembled slightly, but the other party's subsequent nonchalant attitude completely ignited his suppressed anger.
How could he have the nerve?!
Ling Zheng laughed in anger, a venomous smile that made people shudder. His fingers unconsciously stroked the Ziwu Yuanyang Yue at his waist.
The faintly cold texture seemed to penetrate into his fingertips, bringing a sobering tingling sensation.
This coldness was what Wen Rensu had absorbed for him. Whenever he thought of it, a hint of sweetness would arise in his heart, until that day -
Today, I have to fight him with this weapon. How ironic.
A glimmer of light flashed in Ling Zheng's eyes, so faint that it was almost an illusion.
"Okay, very good!" His voice suddenly turned fierce, and his eyes glowed red.
“Woo——”
A whistle with a strange tone sounded from Ling Zheng's lips without any warning.
With the whistle, the earth seemed to come alive. The humming sound spread from far and near, converging into a shuddering roar that made even the weaker ones on the tower feel dizzy.
All over the mountains and plains, countless wriggling figures emerged, including snakes, insects, rats and ants, and countless poisonous insects driven by the Gu whistle.
They gathered into black tides, carrying a disgusting fishy smell. Wherever they passed, the grass and trees instantly withered and charred.
"Be careful of the poison!"
"Don't panic, set up the formation, quickly!"
"Don't let these bugs in! Aaaaaah!"
Howls of terror erupted from the city wall, and everyone forgot about the drill and became flustered, until a clear and long sword sound, like a dragon's roar in the sky, suddenly suppressed all the noise.
Wen Ren Su took a step forward, and his whole body was like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, with the long sword in his hand drawing a cold and radiant light like a streak of silk.
The sky was dark, almost pitch black. With a loud bang, heavy rain poured down, washing the stone slabs in front of the Wanjun Sect's mountain gate.
The deafening sounds of fighting and the clashing of weapons lit up the world. The charred remains of poisonous insects were everywhere, soaked by the rain and emitting a strong stench.
In this chaos, the confrontation between the two figures was particularly fierce.
The metal collisions were as dense as drumbeats, the white light was like a thread, and the black shadows were like ghosts. They collided and separated in the rain, and fought more than a hundred times in an instant.
Sparks flickered and internal energy overflowed.
Wen Rensu wielded his sword like a rainbow, and the Wanjun School's signature sword technique, "Qianjun Poyue", was performed in his hands.
The moves were solemn and powerful, while the counterattacks were swift and precise, forcing Ling Zheng to give it his all.
Ling Zheng's figure was as elusive as a ghost, and a pair of Ziwu Yuanyang axes released wisps of cold air.
He completely gave up on defense and only attacked without defending. His two axes flew like shadows, and every move was aimed at Wen Rensu's vital points. He fought in close combat, taking the danger of close combat to the extreme.
The two sides exchanged blows, and for a moment, it was difficult to tell who was the winner. Ling Zheng's eyes glowed red, and Wen Rensu's ruthlessness completely aroused the resentment in his heart.
He roared angrily and used his two axes to perform a dangerous combined attack, one on the left and one on the right, like two intersecting lightning bolts, fiercely twisting towards Wen Rensu's neck.
This move is fast, accurate and ruthless, and the angle is extremely tricky.
According to common sense, Wen Rensu should have retreated half a step to avoid the attack. However, he inexplicably took a different approach and continued to fight stubbornly.
In this split second, the axe blade became slightly stagnant. Ling Zheng's eyes moved slightly, and he turned around and covered his hands.
“Sizzle—”
With a teeth-grinding sound of tearing cloth, the white clothes under Wen Rensu's left rib were torn, and a wound deep enough to see the bone was revealed.
The coldness of the black iron penetrated into his bones, and the blood mixed with the rain water dyed a large area of the cloth on his side red.
The intense pain caused Wen Rensu's body to stiffen, his face draining of color, and he let out a suppressed groan. His sword stance inevitably became unsteady.
"Wenren!" Shan Wuya, who was watching the battle on the city wall, suddenly narrowed his pupils and cried out in surprise.
Ling Zheng took a deep breath, a cruel light flowing in his eyes, and took half a step forward.
Without waiting for Wenren Su to steady himself, he grabbed Wenren Su's right wrist with his right hand and twisted it backwards, while at the same time, he quickly kicked Wenren Su behind the knee with his left foot.
Wen Rensu staggered and fell forward involuntarily.
Ling Zheng's left arm coiled up like a python, tightly gripping his throat and locking him in the mud.
"Kneel down!" Ling Zheng shouted, his eyes burning with hatred.
Wen Ren Su was suppressed by him and could not move. His knees sank into the cold mud, and a small amount of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth. His originally unstoppable momentum collapsed in an instant.
Ling Zheng glared at the back of the other person's head for a long time, as if he had made some decision, and the familiar whistle sounded from his mouth again.
The tide of poisonous insects, which had been slowing down and appearing somewhat chaotic, became agitated. They no longer attacked the city walls in disorder, but instead split to both sides like a tide.
An extremely powerful force rushed towards the righteous camp, submerging the area in an instant, and only screams of pain could be heard.
The other stream meandered and formed a strange barrier several feet high, surrounding the giant ebony chariot and Ling Zheng who was holding Wen Rensu.
"Retreat!" Ling Zheng didn't even look at his defeated subordinates who were swallowed by the sea of gu, and his cold order sounded in the wind and rain.
A deep and powerful horn sounded from the demon cult's formation, and the cultists charging and fighting in the front paused.
Although they were puzzled, the military order was as firm as a mountain. They retreated at an astonishing speed and moved down the mountain in an orderly manner under the cover of the insect barrier.
"Alliance leader!"
"Damn it, stop them!"
"Stop right there, devil!"
There were angry curses from people on and off the city wall, but the terrifying wall of Gu that was wriggling madly before them intercepted all the pursuit.
In full view of the crowd, Wen Rensu was dragged into the sedan chair by Ling Zheng like a lamb to be slaughtered.
The heavy curtain of the sedan chair fell, blocking out the noise from the outside world.
Inside the sedan chair, Wen Ren Su leaned on the edge of the sedan chair with his uninjured side, his breathing was weak and his lips were pale.
However, what no one noticed was that deep in those eyes that seemed to be drooping due to severe pain, calmness replaced all the embarrassment.
He even glanced briefly at Ling Zheng, who was sitting upright in the sedan chair with his jaw set, and his eyes were full of interest.
In his plan, this inhumane duel would push Ling Zheng to his limit, but judging from the energy dissipation in the small world, Ling Zheng's collapse was far less severe than expected.
Wen Rensu decided to take a backup plan - pretend to be defeated and allow Ling Zheng to capture him.
Why didn't he capture Ling Zheng? Perseverance and resilience are the defining attributes of a Qidian male protagonist. Physical torture only solidifies his character, contradicting his mission.
On the contrary, since he was passively captured from Ling Zheng's base camp, he could just as well "expose his true nature" and hurt people's hearts with malicious words.
As for the possibility of pretending to be defeated and then being killed by Ling Zheng, Wen Rensu had never considered it at all.
He has this confidence, so how could Ling Zheng bear to do it? How could he bear to just give himself a quick death?
The chariot lifted up, and surrounded by the demonic cult members and protected by poisonous insects, it quickly left the mountain, leaving behind only a devastated battlefield.
The incense in the chariot was emitting wisps of white smoke. As it swayed rhythmically, Wen Rensu's eyelids began to twitch and he fell into a coma without realizing it.
It seemed as if the "ping pong pong" sound came from a very far away place, through a layer of fog. Wen Rensu lost consciousness again until he was awakened by a sharp pulling pain. His first reaction was numbness in his arms.
His wrists were tied to a high building with heavy iron chains, his entire body was half hanging in the air, with only half of his feet barely touching the ground.
After the man woke up, his body swayed slightly, and the iron chain made a series of crisp metallic collisions that echoed in the room. It turned out that this was the sound he had heard before.
His upper body was naked, his arms were red and blue from being hung for a long time, and the wound under his ribs seemed to be sprinkled with a layer of hemostatic powder, which was extremely painful but there was no sign of bleeding.
The dim room had only one high window, and the air was extremely stagnant. The room was surrounded by rusty torture instruments, and was filled with the smell of corruption and a faint smell of blood.
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The author has something to say: I finally got here. I made a meal of dumplings for a dish of vinegar (sweat)
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