weddingnovel Chapter 90 The Frosty River is imbued with wondrous spirits, its true essence permeating the illusor
Chapter 90 The Frosty River is imbued with wondrous spirits, its true essence permeating the illusor
Chapter 90 The Frosty River is imbued with wondrous spirits, its true essence permeating the illusory landscape.
Leaving the Siliuchun Restaurant and walking east along the long street, Mo Weiren and Lin Zhuo walked side by side, with Hong Yingniang and her servant, as well as Jin Xiaohu, about five steps behind them.
A dozen or so steps further on were the people of Pingchuan. The keen bloodlust of the passersby had already been triggered. They could all smell the oppressive atmosphere of an impending storm, so they followed the crowd from the restaurant. The crowd grew larger and larger. When the people at the end of the long street saw this scene from afar, they all became respectful, packed up their stalls, closed their doors and windows, and made way for the martial arts experts.
Mo Weiren, dressed in a scholar's blue robe that covered his withered and emaciated body, with his sleeves fluttering and his hem swinging, looked like a down-on-his-luck old scholar. He pointed to the buildings and scenery on both sides of the street, and as if introducing the city's history to a younger generation, he rambled on about the origins and changes of these things.
He was indeed a smart man, so even though he had only stayed in Pingchuan for less than three months, he was already like a local resident who had lived there all his life. He knew everything about the place like the back of his hand, as if he had personally witnessed the construction of high-rise buildings, the rerouting of waterways, the subletting of shops, and even knew the local people like the back of his hand. He could talk about who got married, who lost a child, who made a fortune, and who suffered a misfortune in a very sensible way.
The surrounding people whispered among themselves, discussing why this schoolteacher had gotten involved in the martial arts conflict. They guessed that he was a master who had been hiding his identity, and they felt sorry for this kind old scholar, thinking that he should have retired from the martial arts world and enjoyed his old age, but instead, he had been dragged back into the trouble by this young man, Lin Zhuo.
"Young hero, don't bully this old man!" someone shouted bravely.
"Shh, shut up! Do you know who this man in black is? He's the one from Anzhou City yesterday—"
"Oh my god, that scared me to death!"
Mo Weiren nodded to the neighbors and asked Lin Zhuo with a smile, "These people spoke rudely and offended you. Young Master Lin, you won't be angry, will you?"
"I just feel happy." Lin Zhuo always had a dark face when he killed someone, but at this moment his expression was slightly serene.
"Oh? You're actually happy to hear that others misunderstand you? What kind of logic is that?"
"I'd like to tell you, but you're not worthy to hear it."
"Heh heh—young man, ever since you met me, you've been so outspoken. Do you really think I have no temper?"
"Then why don't you stop secretly plotting against me all the time?" Lin Zhuo's flawless internal energy had already blocked wave after wave of finger strikes from a distance. Every time Mo Weiren raised his finger to point at the street scene, he would suddenly unleash a cold and chilling true energy at him.
"Young Master Lin's skills are so exceptional that ranking him first on the Earthly Ranking is truly a waste of his talent." Mo Weiren glanced at Lin Zhuo's clothes without leaving a trace.
Even though his true energy was neutralized, the sinister and chilling aura was still impossible to defend against, and it still seeped through his protective qi, freezing large patches of bone-colored frost on Lin Zhuo's waist and the hem of his clothes.
True essence has a clear suppressive power over ordinary mental energy. While mental energy can block the effects of true essence, it is difficult to resist the invasion, penetration, and even assimilation and pollution of the primordial energy of heaven and earth.
In the world of "Cangcheng", people refer to the corrosive power of true essence as "calamity", which not only damages top masters themselves, but also makes it difficult for other martial artists to resist.
Online Qigong practitioners directly refer to the unique properties of true essence as "magical power," which is the same as the magical power of the runes of heaven and earth.
The various extraordinary abilities manifested by True Essence are also directly related to the rune effects of the primordial energy of heaven and earth. For example, True Essence of Gentle Breeze can manifest effects such as [Void], [Lightness], and [Sharpness], all of which come from the natural laws inherent in Gentle Breeze Primordial Energy.
A Qigong master who doesn't cultivate the art of talismans can only wield magical power limited to the amount of primordial energy of heaven and earth incorporated into their Qi. Just as a pure breeze of true essence cannot exhibit effects such as "bearing," "stagnating," or "supporting," it can have a unique and wonderful use if it is used to activate talismanic restrictions.
Mo Weiren's true essence was cold and chilling, and there was a lot of energy that could manifest this kind of magical power, but what he incorporated was a spiritual energy that was even more powerful than mortal energy.
The world of "Cangcheng" can nurture all sorts of spiritual materials and beasts. Although they are rare and precious, this also means that the upper limit of the plane's background is not low. Whether it is created by nature or artificially refined, there is a small probability of generating spiritual energy.
Compared to mortal energy, spiritual energy is more powerful. Even though its reserves are scarce and replenishment is inconvenient, just a small amount can be infused with spiritual energy to gain a significant advantage in battle.
Of course, this comes with a stronger heavenly tribulation and a shorter lifespan. Mo Weiren is younger than Chang Mingzi, but he looks much older.
The vital energy he contained came from the ancient cliff cave in the desolate western region of the Corpse Forest. The Corpse Forest was a place to abandon corpses. After the flesh and blood of the corpses had completely decomposed, the clean bones were moved into the ancient cliff cave and thrown into the bottom of the cave.
The cave is filled with piles of bones that have stood for centuries. A mysterious stream of water flows from the crevices of the bone mountain. The water is pale white and extremely cold. Touching it will cause the skin to rot and the bones to crumble. Drinking it will freeze one to death. The local monks call it the "Cold Prison River Water".
Mo Weiren earned the title of "Divine Warrior King" because he dared to cultivate the "Eight Cold Hell Transcending Suffering Scripture," one of the supreme secret techniques of the Demonic Sect. With his talent and ability, he did not die during his cultivation. He endured three years of hardship in the ancient cliff cave, experiencing all kinds of pain and torment, and finally integrated the water of the Cold Hell River into his spiritual energy.
The day he mastered this skill was the happiest moment of Mo Weiren's early life. In the following few months, he used his Cold Prison True Essence to make a name for himself in the martial arts world, enjoying unparalleled glory. Then, the Heavenly Tribulation followed him like a shadow, relentlessly haunting him and bringing him long-lasting torment. Mo Weiren also entered the agonizing second half of his life.
"I originally thought that Young Hero Lin must have already absorbed the Qi of Heaven and Earth, but I didn't expect that you haven't even reached that level yet. In the prime of your youth, with such high martial arts skills, and with a beautiful woman by your side, you are truly the envy of all."
"It's alright. You old pig-dog, you'll be dead soon. And the dead don't envy the living. The dead don't care about anything," Lin Zhuo replied calmly, while slightly turning his head to look at the shadows of the buildings on both sides of the street.
Mo Weiren was startled, thinking to himself that this little bastard had a very keen sense of aura.
What caught Lin Zhuo's attention was naturally the malice of the demonic sect disciples. They were lurking in these ordinary streets and alleys, gathering more people while waiting for the Heavenly King's orders.
But Lin Zhuo was able to sense and detect even the slight hint of murderous intent they revealed.
There are many masters in the martial arts world with extraordinary skills, but they die from conspiracy and ambush, losing their lives in a muddle. This shows that their skills are not top-notch.
A truly first-rate martial artist possesses a fierce fighting spirit and a sharp will, like a precious mirror. Even the slightest speck of dust can detect anomalies, and even if the target cannot be directly locked, there will be a clear sense of crisis.
This keen insight into the flow of energy in the world is an essential martial arts quality for becoming a grandmaster.
Before he turned thirty-six, Mo Weiren had not mastered such skills. He considered himself exceptionally intelligent, but when he saw a true genius, he couldn't help but feel conflicted.
They had already left the city gate when Mo Weiren suddenly used his lightness skill and, in a few breaths, brought Lin Zhuo to a mass grave.
Wild dogs dig up graves, bones are exposed in the fields, and crows cry mournfully.
Even on a bright, sunny day, a chilling wind still seeps into the air, sending shivers down one's spine.
Mo Weiren stood in the desolate wilderness, his robes fluttering in the wind like a banner summoning souls. He took out a short, curved blade from his bosom, with a bone hilt and a body of white jade, guarded by eight treasures, pure and solemn.
"Young Master Lin's words are sharp as knives, and I am ashamed to admit my inferiority. However, I believe that even a dead person may not be indifferent to everything. Have you not heard that those who do evil in life will be punished in hell after death? The dead also have grievances, and I am most adept at discerning this resentment. I would like to ask the young master for his opinion."
"You think the dead will resent it? Then what about the children you killed, your former students? Will they resent it?" Lin Zhuo untied the Meteor Chain Hammer from his waist, and the light spot between his eyebrows seemed to burst into flames.
The polite smile on the face of the Divine Warrior King vanished instantly. He gently raised the short sword above his head, the curved arc of the blade shining like the moon.
"How did you know—never mind, since you were able to find me, it means you know many secrets and hidden matters. I wonder which faction within the sect has rebelled. After I deal with you, I'll go back and report to the Dharma King for his decision."
Mo Weiren's fierce fighting spirit and true energy had spread across the land with the moon-like glint of his blade. In Lin Zhuo's eyes, crows flew in fright and wild dogs barked mournfully on the mass grave. It was clearly a bright daytime, but here the autumn day seemed to be shrouded by a dark and deathly curtain. The sky and the earth were desolate and profound, everything was colorless, the grass and trees stood like white bones, and everyone's face was whiter than frost.
Such a scene is certainly an illusion, but it is not entirely an illusion.
The illusion created by the true essence and magical power represents a kind of law of heaven and earth, so any martial artist or commoner who sets foot in this place can observe this scene.
The first group of martial arts practitioners who arrived at the mass grave paled in shock and trembled with fear, exclaiming, "Is this hell?!"
"How terrifying! This old man... he's a Grandmaster!"
"The Mountain-Crushing Divine Hand is actually going to fight a Grandmaster! Can he really win?"
"I understand now. This scene matches the records on the Black List—Master Lin's opponent is Mo Weiren, the Heavenly King of the Demonic Sect!"
Amidst the panicked cries of the crowd, in this terrifying, hellish world, Lin Zhuo's face was ashen, but his eyes shone like burning embers. The chain hammer in his hand roared with fierce winds, and a dragon shape formed from condensed dust slowly rose up. The rope was taut like a spear, and the hammerhead was as massive as a mountain. One could immediately sense the terrifying power gathered within it, as if witnessing a blazing meteor streaking across the sky.
"You bastard, if you can survive three of my hammer blows, I, Lin, will cut off my fine head and give it to you!"