Chapter 517 The Young Master of the White Clan Appears
A moment later, corpses lay in a pool of blood in the ancestral hall.
Even if the unarmed farmers fought for their lives, they could not cause much real harm to the outsiders.
"Master, a group of children ran away." The leading black-armored officer wiped the blood on his knife on Mr. Song's body and said unluckily.
The white-robed sorcerer breathed in the thick air of despair with intoxication, narrowed his eyes and said, "Kill them all."
"Yes." The black-armored officer led a few people, mounted their horses, and chased out of Songjiazhuang.
On the country road leading to the provincial capital, a young boy named Xiaowu lay on the horse's back, crying and pulling out the whip with all his strength, biting his lips hard to suppress his sobs.
As the "king of children" in the village, after he and the other teenagers escaped from the ancestral hall, the teenagers split into several groups and fled for their lives, looking for safe places to hide nearby, while Xiaowu, who had the best riding skills, was responsible for asking for help from the provincial capital.
“Da da da…”
The horse's hooves were like a violent storm, leaving the burning farm behind. Xiao Wu gritted his teeth, with only the sound of the wind in his ears. On both sides of the road were burning crops.
He suddenly remembered that last autumn, he had also left the village to seek help, but compared to the last time when he escaped danger, what happened today was a real disaster.
The city is quite far from the village. When I come back for help, will there still be anyone alive in the village?
So the old scholar's request for help was actually asking them to run as far as they could.
However, the young man deliberately ignored the answer. He was just holding back his anger and wanted to run to the provincial capital and bring back soldiers to kill all the bandits.
But the pursuers behind him were approaching.
The black-armored officer, riding his warhorse, easily caught up with the fleeing youth. He clamped his legs against the horse's belly, took off his bow and arrow, and said with a smile:
"Would you like to bet on how many arrows I have to shoot to kill him?"
The soldiers on horseback were chatting and laughing:
"I know you're a good archer, Sergeant, but you're on horseback, so you need at least three arrows... maybe even five."
The black-armored officer bent his bow and drew his arrow, sneering:
"Two arrows are enough. Let me teach you a trick. On the battlefield, shoot the horse first."
Whoosh——
The first arrow flew through the air, and the horse under the young man let out a whine, stumbled, and fell to the ground.
The boy was ejected by inertia and fell on the road. He rolled several times, his head was bleeding, and he collapsed on the ground and couldn't get up for a while.
The black-armored officer slowly drew the second quiver from his quiver, bent his bow, and locked onto the back of the young man as he struggled to get up. Suddenly, he heard his men exclaim, "There's someone ahead..."
Whoosh——
The second arrow had already flown out. Xiao Wu, who was sitting paralyzed on the ground, struggled to turn his head. The rapidly enlarging arrow was reflected in his pupils. The boy's face was pale and his whole body was cold.
But at the moment of death, a flash of golden light flashed by, and the arrow was split into two parts by the blade and fell to the ground.
Xiao Wu was in a trance. He only heard the thunder of horse hooves behind him. The sunlight was shrouded in shadows. The rebels chasing him suddenly changed their expressions and turned around and ran away.
"Look up."
The young man looked up in confusion at the sound and saw the armored cavalry, and the young man in brocade clothes on the horse, blocking out the sun.
He opened his mouth, recognized the face, and a sob choked him, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Your Excellency, the Imperial Envoy?"
Zhao Duan raised his hand, put the flying knife back into his sleeve, and looked at the young man with blood on his head. After a brief recollection, he said suddenly:
"It's you."
He remembered that last autumn, when he and the princess first arrived at Songjiazhuang, they were provoked by this arrogant young man and beat him up.
The boy who was annoying and had a strong sense of rudeness seemed to have grown up because of this disaster that wiped out his family. He no longer had an ugly face. He knelt on his knees and kowtowed repeatedly:
"Please avenge my people."
Zhao Duan's expression changed slightly: "Where is Mr. Song?"
The young boy's shoulders trembled and he burst into tears.
Zhao Duan was silent, and the more than one hundred light cavalrymen behind him were also silent.
Suddenly, Zhao Duan smiled, but the smile was a little cold:
"I've always had a bad reputation outside, and the people of Songjiazhuang don't leave a good impression on me either. Mr. Song even followed Zhengyang to the capital to cause trouble for me..."
Disappointment welled up on Xiaowu's face, and the color gradually faded away.
Zhao Duan changed the subject and slowly grasped the handle of the sword at his waist with his right hand:
"But I don't know what's wrong with that corrupt scholar Zhengyang's brain. He insists on calling me 'Master'. And your clan leader is Zhengyang's student. So, after all the calculations, he is also half-disciple of me. So, this matter cannot be paid without blood debt.
Everyone, listen up! Disperse immediately and kill the rebels! I won't leave a single one alive!"
More than a hundred light cavalry responded in unison!
The warhorse under Zhao Duan was like an arrow shot from a bow, stirring up a strong wind and attacking the fleeing rebels. The sword in his hand was pulled out with a "swish", and the thick sword energy gathered at the tip of the sword, like a tornado.
The black-armored officer who shot and killed people with arrows had no power to resist. Blood gushed out of his armor like a fountain, and his body fell to the ground with a thud. His wide-open eyes reflected the bodies of the rest of his men falling to the ground.
In a blink of an eye, the light cavalry scattered in all directions, surrounding and strangling the rebels scattered throughout the village, leaving Xiaowu kneeling on the loess road, stunned and speechless.
…
Songjiazhuang is very big.
Zhao Duan took a look and saw that there were at least a hundred rebels setting fire and killing people everywhere. They should be the main force of this sneak attack... at least one of them.
He immediately ordered Ji Yue to summon rain to put out the fire and extinguish the burning farmland.
He and Lang Shiba split into two groups and attacked towards the front and back of the town. As for Tang Jinzhong and other priests, he left them at the silver mine to guard it. Without any experts in charge, he was always worried about relying on Tang Ping and others to guard there.
And when he followed the Qi flow, passed through the burning buildings, and arrived at the Song Clan Ancestral Hall, he saw five white-robed sorcerers standing quietly outside the hall, as if... waiting for him?
The five sorcerers were all dressed in the evil attire of the White Sect. The leader was a feminine-looking man in his twenties.
The corners of his mouth were habitually raised, giving people the impression that he was smiling all the time, but there was always a hint of arrogance and sarcasm in that smile, as if it was a superior temperament developed from being in a high position for a long time.
The young sorcerer seemed to have noticed the arrival of the imperial army, and said with a gentle smile:
"Who am I thinking is coming? If I'm not mistaken, could it be the rumored concubine of the Empress? The uncastrated stallion in the White Horse Prison?"
Zhao Duan stopped and held the knife in his hand, with a stream of blood flowing from the tip of the knife.
There was no sign of anger on his face:
"White Clothes Sect? Prince Mu's Mansion has no dignity at all, allowing a bunch of you rats in the gutter to walk around openly."
The young warlock smiled and said:
"With your intelligence, you should understand the principle of 'victorious kings take their place'. What are good gods and evil gods? It's nothing more than a distinction made by the powerful. If Prince Mu ascends the throne, why can't our Baiyi Sect become a prestigious and upright sect respected by all?
Just like the Dayu royal family six hundred years ago, wasn't their dynasty founded with blood on their hands? Who is more virtuous than who?
Zhao Duan had no interest in talking nonsense or debating. The reason he did not draw his sword was because he sensed a threat from the other party.
This sorcerer from the White Sect has the ability to cause huge damage to him.
The instinctive emergency warning made Zhao Duan's heart sink and he felt uneasy. He began to doubt whether he was too confident. Could it be that the real purpose of today's war was not to blow up the silver mine, but... himself?
Otherwise, how to explain the current situation?
Not to mention that Zhao Duan disregarded everything and burst out with all his strength, he could briefly possess the ability to compete with the world's perfection.
Even if he performs normally, he is only a mid-level fighter in the world. Even if there are masters in the Baiyi Sect, there are not many of them in the worldly realm. How can it be easy to encounter one?
Suddenly, a breeze blew past from behind, and a pair of jade sleeves floated up, blocking Zhao Duan in front of him, and said calmly:
"Leave this group of people to me. My Heavenly Master's Palace priests have an iron rule: any evildoers they encounter must be killed. Lord Zhao will just stay behind and watch over them."
I almost forgot about you...
Zhao Duan was stunned for a moment, looking at the beautiful Taoist nun's green robe that was blowing in the wind, and the green jade flying sword that was buzzing and vibrating at her waist.
I wanted to say "Let's work together", but when the words came to my lips, I suddenly swallowed them back.
…
Dozens of miles away from Songjiazhuang, there is a mass grave where graves stand in the weeds. Because no one takes care of them, the weeds grow up to waist height.
The surrounding villagers avoided this place and there were often ghost stories in the area.
The leader of the Underworld Cult walked slowly in the sea of wild grass, strolling leisurely as if he had returned home.
He was wrapped in a dark red robe, with a scarf of the same color covering half of his face. His dirty black hair was loose and tangled because he had never washed it.
On his back was a long sword made of copper coins, which looked sloppy and rough, as if he was not a living person but a painting by an undertaker.
"quack--"
A black crow circled in the sky, flapped its wings, and landed on a dead branch at the grave.
The leader of the Dark Cult seemed to be tired from walking, and sat down on the grave, facing the direction of Songjiazhuang, and said with a gloomy face:
"Why pick on Zhao when you can pick on anyone else? Even if you don't give the empress face, why don't you think about the thoughts of that old fellow in the Tianshi Mansion in the capital who hasn't left the temple for decades? Young man, you are still too young."
The crow, blacker than ink, spoke human words:
"Could that guy be Zhang Yanyi's illegitimate son? Even the generations of Zhudian boys don't have this standard when they go out for training. Shouldn't they send someone to guard him?"
The leader of the Hades Cult glared at the outspoken crow:
"You're being stubborn. If you want to show off, don't take me with you. I'm living well, but I don't want to get involved in the schemes and fights of those celestial beings. Who knows how much trouble this Zhao has gotten involved in? If he was just a concubine, it would be fine."
The crow showed human contempt, flapped its wings and sneered loudly: "Are you scared?"
The leader of the Dark Cult, who admitted defeat but didn't move an inch, stroked the messy stubble on his chin and looked up. His sight seemed to span over ten miles as he took in the scene inside the Song Family Village Ancestral Hall. A fierce gleam flashed in his eyes as he muttered to himself:
"I stopped taking these kinds of provocations when I was three years old. My Underworld Cult is simply too lazy to get involved in those meaningless fights. Life has 36,000 days, so why not earn some extra money to buy back your life? I'm just too lazy to get involved.
Besides, I have long seen the aura of the god of death enveloping the heavens and the earth... If Zhang Yan doesn't come out of the mountain, it's fine. But if he does, I will spend all my accumulated wealth and send him straight to the underworld."
…
…
The Song family ancestral hall was still burning, and the tablets were turning into charcoal in the flames.
Zhao Duan heard Yuxiu continue to speak calmly:
"This is the business of my Tianshi Mansion. Just like we don't interfere in the court's disputes, the court shouldn't interfere in the affairs of the cultivation world. Master Zhao should step back."
After saying this, Yuxiu looked at the white-robed sorcerer with a cold gaze and uttered a name:
"Shiluoyi, I couldn't catch you before, but today you came to my door."
Shela clothes?
Zhao Duan's heart moved, and the relevant files he had read in his mind came to his mind, and he remembered the information about this name.
This person is the son of the White Robe Sect's leader, that is, the White Robe Sect's young master.
He is extremely talented in practicing the art of losing the spirit, but he seldom leaves Yunfu. Because of his evil ways, he is relatively low-key and few people know about him.
When Shiluoyi saw Yuxiu appear, the smile on his face disappeared briefly, then became even brighter:
"Priest Jade Sleeves killed quite a few of my White Robe Sect disciples in Baihua Village last time. The young master has kept a record of this."
"Young Master, be careful!"
At this time, the other four sorcerers became nervous. Zhao Duan alone was not a big concern, but with the addition of the Jade Sleeve Priest, the situation became delicate.
Shiluoyi waved his hands, showing no signs of nervousness or anxiety. He said with a somewhat sorrowful expression:
"Two people... It's really a headache. I wanted to keep you, Envoy Zhao, but it seems that today will be a bit difficult. Haha, but..."
His smile suddenly brightened, and he suddenly plunged the mourning stick in his hand into the ground. The surrounding world suddenly changed. The light in the ancestral hall that was originally bright with sunlight quickly dimmed. His voice drifted in the cold wind:
"This young master really wants to test the quality of the Heavenly Master's disciples!"
As he made his move, the other four warlocks also thrust their mourning sticks into the ground at the same time. In an instant, the ground suddenly cracked, and streams of "depressing energy" spewed out from the cracks.
That is not inherent in the earth, but the dejected energy collected and exhaled by the White-Robed Warlocks and stored in the small coffin around their waists.
Once the moving technique was performed, the dejected aura inside the coffin would gush out from the mourning stick. In an instant, the entire ancestral hall area became dim, and pieces of paper money began to fall from the sky.
Zhao Duan's heart moved, and he felt as if a shadow was suddenly covered between his eyebrows, and his body also felt a cold and chilling breath rising.
He was no stranger to this feeling.
Back in Jianning Prefecture, he was cursed by a sorcerer from the White Sect and fell ill in his sleep. At the same time, his own life star dimmed, his luck plummeted, and he became extremely unlucky.
At this moment, the sorcerer of the White Sect who was proficient in the art of cursing had shrouded the entire ancestral hall area in the shadow of the dead god.
The enemies in this area have seen their luck decline to the bottom, their spirits become bad, and their fighting spirit wanes.
Not only that, there were also five sorcerers who simultaneously made hand gestures and cast killing spells!
In just a moment, Zhao Duan caught a glimpse of large scarlet illusory characters appearing in front of the sorcerers. Each character represented a curse, and layers of curses swept over, most of which enveloped the Jade Sleeve Priest.
In just a breath of time, the brilliance on the jade sleeve quickly faded away, visible to the naked eye.
His skin turned pale, his eyes turned dark, his aura weakened, and even the jade flying sword at his waist became dim.
Shi Luoyi laughed and said, "The Heavenly Master's disciples are indeed extremely powerful, but how much of them are left now?"
(End of this chapter)
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