Chapter 62: The Eastern Wind

One hour ago.

Underground catacombs.

At Ma Yu’s wish, a massive stone—so large several people could not encircle it—appeared out of nowhere and crashed down upon Bai Xian, whose body was shielded by golden light.

At that moment, they were only five steps apart.

Boom!

The boulder struck the ground, shaking the entire catacomb with its impact.

As Ma Yu secretly let out a sigh of relief, faint cracks began to appear on the stone.

Golden light flickered; the “Golden Light Talisman” expended the last of its power, stubbornly shattering the boulder.

Fragments scattered, and through the dust emerged a slender yet unyielding figure.

Ma Yu was seized by terror and hastily raised the “Wish Realm Jade.”

But Bai Xian would not give him another chance to make a wish.

She steadied her stance, her breath sinking to her core.

Her gaze grew icy, never leaving the jade tablet.

At that moment, dark energy surged across the tablet, as if a demon from the abyss was about to break free.

A glint of cold light appeared first, then—

“Dragon’s Rise!”

A sharp cry rang out.

A crimson dragon’s head formed at the tip of the spear, and the sound of the iron spear slicing through the air was like a giant dragon roaring to the heavens.

“No!”

Ma Yu screamed.

Just before the “Dragon’s Rise” struck his body, the red light vanished, the dragon’s head dissolved into nothingness.

But the iron spear that followed pierced Ma Yu’s body with ease.

Blood sprayed forth; he had actually used his own body to block the spear meant for the jade tablet.

Pain overwhelmed him, and for a moment, Ma Yu seemed to regain some clarity.

Blood trickled from his lips as he turned to Bai Xian, spear in hand.

He murmured, “So…sorry, I’ve caused you so much trouble. I failed Old Zhou, failed Teacher Guan… There’s a demon sealed inside that jade… Don’t let it leave the catacomb… Blow this place up…”

As he finished, the Wish Realm Jade in his arms shone brightly.

A package appeared in Bai Xian’s hand.

She glanced down—it was a bundle of explosives!

Ma Yu’s gaze was already growing dim; Bai Xian’s spear had pierced his lung, and each breath brought frothy blood to his mouth and nose.

He slowly looked upward, a joyful expression spreading across his face.

“Xiaowei, you’ve come to take me… We’ll never… never be separated again.”

With that, Ma Yu’s body slackened and his breath ceased.

Ma Yu died, and the jade tablet fell to the ground.

A torrent of black water burst forth from the tablet, forcing Bai Xian—who had tried to destroy it—to retreat.

Upon the altar.

The yellow coffin exploded open, revealing a gap.

Black water flowed out, and a monkey, now massive as a giant, slowly crawled up from the ground.

Countless twisted black mists gathered behind it, and outside the catacomb, the shrill howls of monkeys echoed once more.

Bai Xian’s face remained calm, but inwardly she cursed every ancestor of Gao Sheng’s family.

Where were the promised benefits? Damn it, when would this nightmare end?

She dragged the blood-soaked Meng Dejun out from among the corpses.

After confirming he was alive, she wasted no time in fleeing toward the catacomb entrance.

Behind them, the black water from the jade tablet kept swelling, quickly flooding the catacomb, pouring into the corridors and covering the murals.

By the time Bai Xian and Meng Dejun crawled out of the coffin, the huge culvert beneath their feet was already filled with foul black water.

Faces appeared in the water, countless withered hands reaching out, trying to drag Bai Xian and Meng Dejun back in, sending chills down their spines.

Once outside the catacomb, Bai Xian turned and pushed the door, her arms straining, her cheeks flushing red.

Meng Dejun, exhausted and aching all over, gasped, “Don’t waste your strength. That stone door takes more than ten people to open. We should just run—”

He hadn’t finished before a creak echoed in his ears.

Bai Xian had single-handedly closed the stone door.

“A girl with monstrous strength!”

Perhaps today’s terrors had numbed him; Meng Dejun wasn’t even surprised.

But before he could relax, a low thud sounded from inside the sealed door, debris falling from the earth around them.

Something was trying to break through!

“What do we do now?”

At this point, Bai Xian had become his pillar. He immediately turned to her.

“You go first.”

“Huh?”

Meng Dejun thought he’d misheard. “What about you? Aren’t you coming?”

Bai Xian pressed her back against the stone door, bracing against the force within.

“Ma Yu said the jade tablet must never leave. I have to blow this place up!”

She hardly needed Ma Yu’s warning; her instincts told her that if the Wish Realm Jade left the catacomb, disaster would follow.

Boom!

The stone door trembled again, and Bai Xian nearly lost her grip, almost thrown off.

Her petite frame seemed even more fragile beneath the door.

Meng Dejun knew staying would only be a hindrance, so he gritted his teeth and ran into the rain.

Bai Xian pressed her back against the door, pulled the fuse from the explosives, and a wisp of white smoke rose as the fuse ignited.

Just then, black water surged through the cracks, the force inside growing ever stronger, threatening to burst through.

The fuse was almost spent.

At last, Bai Xian hurled the explosives, grabbed her spear, and sprinted into the rain.

Barely a dozen steps away, the explosives detonated behind her.

A blast wave propelled her forward; she hit the ground hard.

Her vision darkened, chest tight with suffocating pain, ears ringing from the explosion.

She lay there for a while, then finally used her spear to steady herself and shakily stood—only to find a Daoist priest beside her.

He wore black robes, his hair tied in a Taiji knot, and held a Daoist ritual sword.

He gazed solemnly in the direction of the explosion.

The blast had not only destroyed the catacomb entrance but triggered a landslide.

Mud, stones, and rainwater cascaded down, burying the catacomb once more.

Yet even so, the sinister aura beneath the earth continued to grow stronger.

“You’re late,” Bai Xian spat out a mouthful of blood, her tone full of dissatisfaction.

She had reported the situation to the Special Investigation Division days ago, but it had taken four days for reinforcements to arrive—and only one person at that.

Zhang Yunfeng stared at Bai Xian, whose delicate features showed not a trace of girlish restraint.

“Still, I made it in time.” He continued, “The villagers have all been evacuated. Go and escort the archaeological team out. Leave this to me.”

He handed Bai Xian a signal flare and a satellite phone.

“Can you handle this alone?”

Zhang Yunfeng laughed to the sky, wildly arrogant, then calmly replied, “Of course not.”

Bai Xian looked at him as if he were an idiot, the words “early morning shift” stuck in her throat.

“…”

Zhang Yunfeng seemed to sense the hostility and the temptation in her lips, quickly raising his ritual sword.

“But the sword can.”

Bai Xian followed his gaze.

The sword appeared to be made of raw copper, its hilt composed of five interlocking segments, its blade inscribed with arcane runes and the symbols of sun, moon, and stars.

The Sword of Evil-Slaying—its full name, the Three-Five Yin-Yang Evil-Slaying Sword—was the ritual sword of the Daoist patriarch Zhang Daoling, the Celestial Master.

“When Zhang Daoling practiced in Shu, he wielded the Three-Five Yin-Yang Evil-Slaying Sword, vanquishing countless demons and subduing ghost kings.” Zhang Yunfeng said, “Though I’ve brought only the male sword of the yin-yang pair, it’s enough to suppress this monster. And then, we’ll let the east wind finish the job.”

“East wind?” Bai Xian was puzzled. “What sect’s spell is that? Is it stronger than the Celestial Master’s sword?”

“Uncultured,” Zhang Yunfeng lifted his chin with pride. “The east wind isn’t a sect’s spell—it’s… a missile!”