After the two servants of the Kushan Sect disappeared from sight, Yan Zheng picked up a long knife from the pile of corpses, raised the knife and dropped it. Chai Xuan's body and head were separated, and some blood slowly dripped from his neck. Yan Zheng grabbed the dry white hair, held the head in his hand, and turned towards Zhu Lou.
Chai Chao's head and eyes were half-opened, and drips of dirty blood hit the stone slab. The image of Yan Zheng holding a human head is very similar to that of Yan Budu back then. It's just that his breath is too calm, so calm that it's as quiet as a dying fire.
"You just go down the mountain," Yan Zheng said to Yu Zikuan from behind, his tone a bit unnaturally cold. "You don't need to make a special trip to confirm, I won't run away."
Yu Zikuan frowned and remained silent.
"You and I have known each other for six years, and what have we said at that time is not enough?" Yan Zheng stopped and still didn't look back. "You and I broke the embankment with ant nests, and I have killed all the talented people one after another. This time I will bring back Chai Chao's heads and recall the elders outside the mountain, so that no one will get in the way. Before sunset, the main altar of the Mausoleum Sect will be Just watch it from outside the mountain."
"What about you?" Yu Zikuan finally spoke.
Yan Zheng did not answer directly, but there was a slight tremor in his tone: "There are still many scattered sects on the mountain that have not been withdrawn. Compared with hanging around here, Master Yu has more important things to do."
Chai Chao did not bring out all the party members. If he calls everyone back and then leaves alone, the group of people will definitely become suspicious. Kang Chai Chai was right about one thing - in the past eight years, he could not escape the blame for the blood debt that the Lingjiao had suffered under the banner of "descendants of the Yan family".
Inviting the gods to form a formation, he single-handedly pulled up the main altar of the Ling Sect to be buried with him. It's good that the dust has settled like this.
"Two days ago, there was news from the spies of the Mausoleum Sect. There is a small sect stationed in the southwest of Zongwu Mountain. It does not communicate with other sects, so I am afraid it has not received the news yet. There is not much time left, and I hope that Hero Yu will take it down the mountain."
Yu Zikuan looked at him steadily and said "hmm" for a long time.
Yan Zheng covered his wounds with red clothes and stood up in the wind without saying goodbye to Yu Zikuan. Yu Zikuan stood there for a while, until Yan Zheng's figure disappeared into the mist, then he turned around and left.
There are many people left in Zhulou, most of whom are bastards who are not qualified for fighting. Seeing the current leader appearing with the former leader's head, everyone held their breath and didn't even dare to fart. Several old guys who couldn't stand Chai Xuan were smiling happily, and Yan Zheng could guess what they were thinking.
Chai Chai died, and he was only in his early twenties. These old guys must have reorganized their power in their hearts.
Yan Zheng cleared his throat: "Chai Chao specially used the Dry Mountain Sect to spread false news in order to monopolize the clues. I got the opportunity, and he actually killed me."
Having been immersed in the Demon Cult for many years, Yan Zheng has long been able to tell lies and nonsense at his fingertips.
Sure enough, the hall was instantly filled with curses. The Ling Sect is dominated by strength, and such a thing as "human connection and affection" has never existed. At present, the arrogant Elder Chai only has one head left. Even if he asks them to kick it like a ball, these people can still do it.
The masculine Elder Kong winked and said in a particularly joyful tone: "All the sects were lured out of the mountain by Chai Chao, leaving him alone as bait for nothing. What a vicious plan!"
"Chi Gou will be greedy if he gets the clue. It would be better to call the brothers back and guard Zhulou." Then someone agreed.
"As soon as we withdraw, won't other sects become suspicious?"
"Whatever, it's easy to defend and difficult to attack in Wushan Mountain, so it's better than wasting it..."
Yan Zheng sat on the leader's chair, feeling numb from the pain all over his body, and the blood soaked the inner clothes under his outer robe. Chai Chao's head was tilted at his feet, and the audience was still full of wine and laughter.
He couldn't hold back the sarcasm in his smile: "That's it, call all the brothers back. When everyone is here, I have something important to announce. Chai Chao is dead, and the positions of the elders need to be reassigned."
There was another chaotic cheer in the hall, mixed with roars and weird laughter. Seeing that the believers who had sent the order had started their journey, Yan Zheng did not bother to bandage his wounds. He put his foot on Chai Xuan's head, held a wine bottle in his hand, and watched the commotion in the audience coldly.
This was the first time that the screaming "monkeys" in front of him failed to make him despair.
The blood drained away slowly, and the noise in his ears was blurred into a ball. Yan Zheng looked pale and looked at the bright Zhulou window. The fog outside the building had not cleared, and he could only see the vague and oppressive mountain shadows.
I don’t know if Yu Zikuan has left.
The wine in the throat is slightly bitter, and the human head at the feet smells fishy. At this moment, Yan Zheng suddenly realized that "everything is about to end."
What a long six years.
Knowing that Chai Xuan was the mastermind behind the scenes, Yan Zheng thought of a simpler way of revenge. He poisoned, assassinated, and made sneak attacks again and again. But Chai Chao had lived in the undercurrent of the demonic sect for too long. In his opinion, the murderous intention of a fifteen-year-old boy was no different from a cat scratching someone.
Chai Chao even praised Yan Zheng a few words: Yes, he is greedy for power at a young age, and he looks a bit like a member of the demon sect.
Yan Zheng also tried to develop his own power, but he didn't know how to coerce and induce, and everyone in the Demon Cult was abnormal. He tried his best for more than half a year, but in the end there was nothing he could do. The enemy is clearly close at hand, but he seems unable to kill him. He seemed to have no other choice but to be a good puppet leader.
In the past six months, the news that "Ling Sect has a leader with ghost eyes" gradually spread. Branches in various places developed rapidly, and the number of people who died at the hands of the Ling Cult doubled. The Ling Sect, which was originally in decline, gradually began to show signs of resurgence.
So Yan Zheng thought of death.
As soon as he died, he smashed the Lingjiao's "Descendants of the Yan Family" sign. This is the last counterattack he can do, and it is also his only remaining path to redemption.
On that day, the Mausoleum Sect branch regained a territory in the northwest. The believers celebrated wildly and killed civilians in the hall for fun. The lights of the Zhulou are swaying, and the new paint on the beams and columns is not yet dry, but there is a little blood on it. At that time, Zhulou was in good order. Yan Zheng sneaked into the corpse cart and left Zhulou quietly.
He had to die in a conspicuous place, such as the entrance to Zongwu Mountain.
Unexpectedly, before Yan Zheng reached his destination, a long arrow came through the air and penetrated his shoulder mercilessly. Something happened suddenly, Yan Zheng was still dazed, and the sharp sword tip was pressed against his throat.
"As expected, he is the little bastard of the Yan family." The man's eyes were blood red, filled with hatred. "I've been following you for so long, but I didn't expect that it would take no effort at all."
Yan Zheng looked at Tai Heng's dusty dress and came back to his senses instantly. This is not bad. If someone from Taiheng kills him, the news will spread faster.
Yan Zheng didn't scream in pain or curse. He sat on the ground obediently, covering his arrow wound and saying nothing.
The man paused and said, "Before I take your life, I have something else to ask. Is the Lu Fenxi in your sect in the main altar recently? How long will he stay in Zongwu Mountain?"
"I can talk to you, but there is one condition."
The man sneered: "If you want to beg for mercy—"
"I hope you will be more agile with your actions." Yan Zheng looked at the wet soil under his knees. "You can dispose of my body as you wish. Even if it hangs at the foot of Zongwu Mountain, I will have no complaints."
The man looked at him suspiciously for a while, then retracted the tip of the sword and said, "Say."
"Your Excellency, are you the hero Yu Zikuan Yu? The only people related to Taiheng that Lu Fengxi killed in the past two years were Taiheng Yu Zikuan's wife He, and his only son Yu Qiuwen."
"... Not bad." Yu Zikuan said in a hoarse voice, "Young little puppet, you know a lot."
"Lu Fengxi will be repairing weapons at the main altar and will stay for about ten days. The craftsmanship of the pestle stick is complicated, so he has to go down the mountain to select the materials himself. If you want to start, you can wait until he leaves the mountain."
After saying that, Yan Zheng closed his eyes, showing a look of relief.
"I told you what you want to know. Now it's the hero's turn to fulfill his promise."
Elder Taiheng Yu was originally known for his courage to love and hate, but when his wife and son died tragically, this man caused quite a stir in the world. At the moment, Yu Zikuan seems to be half crazy, with most of his intelligence gone, and he will not hesitate because of his youth.
God's will is just right.
The other party moved slightly, and the soles of his boots made a slight sound as they ground against the soil. Unexpectedly, the next moment, the pain did not come from his neck and chest, but from his scalp. Yu Zikuan grabbed his long hair and forced Yan Zheng to stand up.
"I don't know why you want to die, and you are not interested in the troubles within the Demon Cult." Yu Zikuan sneered, "But you are the ghost eye of the Yan family, so it would be a waste to simply die."
Yan Zheng opened his eyes and looked at him expressionlessly.
Yu Zikuan's expression was slightly ferocious: "Boy, you are ready to die. It seems you don't like the Ling Cult very much. You are going to die anyway, so why not let me take advantage of you."
"I have no use value." Yan Zheng said softly, "As the hero said, I am just a puppet."
"You are only a half-year-old kid, so of course you can't fight against a group of old lunatics. I'm here to teach you the art of power and fortune-telling. If you and I work together, it's not a lie to overthrow the Ling sect."
"Do you believe me?" Yan Zheng said with a hint of sarcasm.
Yu Zikuan chuckled, took out a pill from his arms, and pressed it into Yan Zheng's throat: "This is the blood Gu obtained from Gu Tower. I originally wanted to use it on Lu Fenxi. Now it seems that it is more appropriate to feed it to you."
Yan Zheng swallowed it obediently. Not only did he not vomit, his eyes gradually lit up.
"Are you really willing to teach me?" Yan Zheng grabbed Yu Zikuan's dirty sleeves, "Are you really willing to join hands with me and destroy the Ling Sect?"
"The Ling Cult is a cancer in the martial arts world. How can I have the nerve to pay homage to my wife and son if I only kill one Lu Fenxi?"
"... But I don't believe you either." Yan Zheng murmured, "Before the Ling Sect is destroyed, you are not allowed to kill Lu Fenxi, what? If you kill Lu Fenxi in advance and leave, I won't take the blood poison antidote. ”
"It's a deal."
Sure enough, even God hates the Ling Cult, Yan Zheng thought to himself.
He and Yu Zikuan worked together, but Chai Chao was short-sighted and tacitly allowed Yan Zheng to kill possible "competitors." Year after year passed, the Ling Sect failed to prosper. The prosperity of those two years turned into a flashback, and it once again embarked on the road of irreversible decline.
Cooperating with people from the Demon Cult is a taboo for Taiheng. It is a metaphor for Zikuan simply pretending to die and living in seclusion in the foggy mountains. Yan Zheng personally sent him daily necessities, and even Yueshui Pavilion could not find any trace of Yu Zikuan.
At first, Yu Zikuan taught Yan how to fight for power and look after people, but other than that, the two of them didn't say a word.
Later, perhaps because he was bored on the mountain, Yu Zikuan began to teach him the Taiheng breath adjustment method and the fragility of the Lingjiao exercises.
Later, perhaps because he couldn't stand it, Yu Zikuan taught him how to tie his hair, taught him how to deal with the annoying blood in the demon sect, and taught him how to barely breathe under the weight of fate.
"If you really can't bear it, you might as well come and talk to me. It's not a shame to rely on your elders occasionally."
"Don't wear yourself down by thinking about things. You and I have a good goal - to uproot the Ling Sect. Of course it can be considered as atonement."
"...Boy, if you insist on pursuing those who have died over the years, I will get half of it. We are both guilty, okay?"
At the end, Yu Zikuan said this.
The huge Zhulou made Yan Zheng feel like walking on thin ice, but the small thatched cottage could find him some relief. In the desolate mountains and the crazy mist, Yan Zheng managed to find a trace of the peaceful life of his childhood. "Living in the world" no longer seems to be pure pain and suffering.
There is a fence in the abyss behind him, so he no longer needs to walk alone in the darkness.
Compared with when they first met, Yu Zikuan's madness was much lighter, and his overwhelming hatred turned into calm and persistence. So Yan Zheng sent Lu Fengxi to the Ghost Tomb, hoping that Yu Zikuan would see that the blood feud had been avenged and take the extermination of the religion a little lightly.
Yu Zikuan is no longer as crazy as before. He can definitely see that the Lingjiao has only one last breath left, and it is best to get out in time.
It's a pity that Taiheng people are stubborn to the core. Yu Zikuan not only did not leave, but also handed him the blood poison antidote without a word of complaint.
"This makes it even." Yu Daxia clicked his tongue and shook his head.
But the ending is considered perfect for the time being, Yan Zheng sighed. Just talking to Yu Zikuan, as soon as he touched the concern in the other party's words, the remaining weakness burst out uncontrollably, and Yan Zheng almost wavered -
He almost wanted to live.
Fortunately, the deep pain had been with him for several years, and it was only a trace of soft attachment that could be dissipated in a flash. Yu Zikuan was not stained with the blood of innocent people, so of course he deserved to live. But he was in the middle of the dark whirlpool and had long been disqualified.
The mist was dyed gray-red by the setting sun, and finally, there was a loud explosion in Yan Zheng's ears. Calling it an explosion might not be accurate. The sound skipped his ears and blasted directly into his brain. A strange fear rushed up from the soles of his feet, and Yan Zheng couldn't help but shiver.
This kind of power... is probably the God-inviting Formation.
The next moment the formation was activated, the surrounding air suddenly became several times thicker, pressing Yan Zheng firmly onto the chair. In the magic circle, he felt a pinprick-like pain all over his body, accompanied by the coldness of emptiness.
The cold winter has passed, but the feeling now is like standing naked in the severe winter ice and snow, and like being caught in a stone mill and being crushed finely. His internal organs were twitching, his heart was beating wildly, and his limbs were completely inoperable. The ground shook slightly, and Chai Chao's head rolled down the steps and into the panicked crowd.
Here are gathered the most cruel and arrogant lunatics in Dayun. They used to regard human life as nothing, but now they all kneel on the ground, screaming and whining silently before death.
Yan Zheng's eyes darkened for a while, but the smile at the corner of his mouth grew bigger and bigger.
... It was really over this time, and he closed his eyes.
This was the moment he longed for most, but it was different from what Yan Zheng had always imagined. At the end, he actually felt a touch of longing. If the Ling Sect is destroyed, that person can untie his knot and move on.
Unexpectedly, at the next moment, Yan Zheng felt a pain in his scalp that he had not seen for a long time - a pair of hands grabbed his long hair and forced him to stand up.
"That's almost enough." The familiar voice said hoarsely, "Boy, let's run."
Under the foggy mountain.
The sun was setting in the west, and all the originally chaotic sects were frozen in place.
The weird golden fire cage of the Kushan sect is still standing, and there are four "caged birds". Except for Shen Zhu who didn't want to get close to the fishy person, four people from the Kushan faction stood in the center of the formation. The big figures from the Ling Sect left early, and not many people from the Chigou Sect were left behind. Taiheng had no intention of fighting, and the scene had long since become a meeting of minions.
Something changed on the mountain, and no one had the intention to get close to the Dry Mountain Sect this time.
The Ling Sect's fog grave array has not yet been dismantled, and the strange phenomenon is quite obvious - as if there is some invisible giant protruding from the mountain. Its movements are like a dexterous long tongue, sweeping across the vast Zongwu Mountain. . Wherever everyone could see, all the fog was stirred up into chaos. Layers of thick fog are like river tides in a storm, forcing huge waves of strange shapes.
Some members of the Mausoleum Cult were still retreating up the mountain, but they were only a few dozen steps away. Everyone watched helplessly as they knelt on the ground, struggling painfully and weakly, like desperate flying insects entangled in a spider web.
Although the speeds are different, the Ling Cult believers are gradually drying up, as if they have been drained by something. Several servants had even fallen to the ground, their bodies as shriveled as mummies. Before long, their corpses were like ice cubes on a stove, slowly shrinking, twisting, flattening and becoming smaller, turning into a puddle of human skin rug riddled with holes.
Eventually it disappeared.