Chapter 440: Crow's Curse

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He Xinliang

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Hearing Xu Fengnian's wild boasts, the woman, like a fox spirit emerging from an ancient temple deep in the mountains, gently pushed away the pale, handsome boy in her arms, who was as pretty as a girl. She then clutched her chest, feigning a lovesick lament, and with seductive eyes, said, "This humble servant wouldn't mind if young master became the leader, but my status is low, and my words carry little weight."

Xu Fengnian's horsemanship was superb. Even with his hands tucked into his sleeves, not wielding a whip, his warhorse seemed to intuitively stop. With a mocking smile, he asked, "Your Demonic Cult dominated the martial world for a hundred years, but it was so severely weakened by Qi Xuanzhen alone that for decades you've been like homeless dogs. I hear even second-rate sects dare to defile you. What good would it do me to be this nominal leader? Surely I won't have to pay for your food, clothing, and shelter, right? Look, your aunt here can't even afford thick clothes. And that poor fellow holding the copper ball, his upper body is bare. Then there's the one with the parrot on his shoulder—let me see, that breed isn't good. It's just a common 'Spring Announcer' worth a few hundred taels of silver. If it were me, unless it was an 'Empress Xi' parrot, worth a hundred gold pieces and hard to find, I wouldn't dare show my face in the martial world."

Hu Chunya rolled her eyes and said angrily, "This guy really has a death wish. A jinx! If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have run into these demonic masterminds."

The foxy woman, referred to as "Auntie," smiled sweetly and said delicately, "Auntie is too poor to afford warm clothes, but isn't there young master you? Later, we can find a mandarin duck silk quilt, meet honestly, and cuddle for warmth."

Hu Chunya, her face flushed crimson, spat angrily, "Shameless hussy!" The handsome youth in the woman's arms seemed to have spilled the vinegar jar, but before he could speak, the plump woman discreetly reached out, digging her nails into his cheek. He winced in pain and immediately fell silent, like a cicada frozen in winter. The woman, with seductive glances and a face full of allure, turned to Xu Fengnian. But as soon as her gaze shifted, her expression hardened. She cast a cold, murderous glance at the young girl Hu Chunya. She then pretended to raise her sleeve to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and a beautiful, dancing butterfly appeared before Hu Chunya's eyes. The girl, surprised and delighted, without thinking, tried to pinch and catch this pleasing toy. However, Zhou Qinshu, standing beside her, swiftly drew his Azure Rainbow Sword and sliced the butterfly in two with one stroke. Yet, the butterfly, which should have died, did not fall. Instead, from one death, two lives emerged, transforming into two fluttering butterflies that flew towards the girl. Only then did Hu Chunya realize the danger and hastily reined her horse back. Zhou Qinshu's expression was grim. Changing his slash to a slap, his sword blade collided with the butterflies, emitting two dull thuds. The butterflies were not utterly destroyed; they bounced several feet away and slowly returned. The woman laughed, rocking back and forth, her chest heaving, looking more and more like a fully-trained fox spirit. She chuckled and warned, "This young maiden wielding a sword, even a sharp ordinary blade that can cut through iron like mud cannot kill my carefully raised 'Foolish Smile Butterflies.' Unless it's a Daoist talisman sword, don't waste your energy. What's a good girl doing practicing swordsmanship? Don't you know that men in this world carry swords at their waists? That sword is the truly good one. Alas, it's a pity you haven't tasted it; you don't know its power. After a few tries, you'll surely be begging for mercy, feeling ecstatic and wishing to surrender."

The woman turned her head to Xu Fengnian and asked, "Young master, wouldn't you agree?"

The leading knight calmly said, "That's enough."

The woman playing with the butterflies immediately knew to shut up. The knight, who among the Demonic Cult group had the least air of a master, looked at Xu Fengnian. "I am Lu Linggui, the Right Protector in what the world calls the Demonic Cult. This trip, I am here on the Sect Leader's orders to welcome you into the cult."

Xu Fengnian laughed, "Mount Zhulu has been leaderless for over sixty years, so how does it have a new master now? Mount Zhulu is like a court, with two kings and four dukes and marquises, each ruling their own territories. These six have always claimed to be external Heavenly Demons. You protectors are nothing more than their lackeys, serving tea and water. It seems Mount Zhulu's sincerity isn't quite enough."

The Demonic Cult Protector Lu Linggui did not get angry. He calmly said, "As long as young master enters the mountain, you can directly be enfeoffed as a marquis without any surprises. As long as you perform great deeds for Mount Zhulu in the future, being enfeoffed as a king will be just around the corner."

It seemed that the more than twenty riders behind Lu Linggui were hearing this for the first time. When they looked at Xu Fengnian again, their eyes held a genuine mix of envy and awe. Even the dozing old man in brocade robes suddenly opened his eyes. When the Demonic Cult was at its peak, it was rumored to have a grand total of thirty thousand members, producing countless heroes and masters, formidable enough to contend directly with a small nation. The martial world before the Jiazi cycle (sixty years ago) was a bloody history of righteous martial artists desperately fighting against Mount Zhulu. Nearly seventy to eighty percent of historical martial arts alliance leaders successively died at the hands of the Demonic Cult, with one being chosen after another died, a continuous succession. As a result, this coveted position later became a thankless job, something all martial artists understood to be a 'chicken rib' – something of little value but still worth holding onto.

If Cao Changqing's drunken shouts and boot removal, Li Chungang's "Sword Come!" cry, Deng Tai'a riding his donkey to observe the land, and Wang Xianzhi's status as "Second Under Heaven"—the existence of these charismatic figures made later generations feel how splendid the martial world was, shaking their hearts whenever remembered. However, the various demonic figures associated with Mount Zhulu, if you randomly pick a few, all seem to have a long list of misdeeds: using human livers for wine, harvesting yin to supplement yang, or annihilating entire families with a flick of a finger. Especially the successive leaders of Mount Zhulu and the six Heavenly Demons, it seemed that dominating the martial world and reaching its pinnacle wasn't enough; they also wanted to 'pursue the deer of the land' (vie for sovereignty) to be truly satisfied. 'When the Central Plains lose its deer, heroes from all under heaven pursue it'—this is the hidden meaning of Mount Zhulu. Xu Xiao once personally led his cavalry to conquer the martial world, and their ultimate target was precisely Mount Zhulu, shrouded in clouds and mists and of unknown whereabouts. It was rumored to have accumulated countless gold and silver over centuries, wealth rivaling a nation. Unfortunately, the Beiliang cavalry stopped at Dragon Tiger Mountain.

Xu Fengnian was momentarily lost in thought. Lu Linggui was not in a hurry to urge him. But while Lu Linggui patiently remained still, the brawny man with the copper ball, whom Xu Fengnian had ridiculed, had no such leisure to wait and freeze in the middle of winter. Raising a palm above his head, he lifted the massive, hundreds-of-pounds-heavy copper ball and roared, smashing it towards the hateful smiling "pretty boy." The copper ball descended like a collapsing mountain. Yuan Zuozong, on horseback, suddenly surged forward. At some point, an iron spear had appeared in his right hand. With a wave of his left hand, he effortlessly batted the copper ball away. One man, one horse, and one spear charged forward like a rainbow. Lu Linggui was initially somewhat annoyed. He didn't think much of Yuan Zuozong's ability to swat away the heavy copper ball with a single palm. But when this man came charging directly with a spear in hand, Lu Linggui's expression turned serious. The woman who had been playing with the butterflies was the first to steer her horse aside, clearly indicating she wanted no part in the commotion. Lu Linggui, intending to test the true strength of the white-haired young man, hesitated for a moment, then also reined his horse aside. The few riders behind him followed suit. Thus, only Yuan Zuozong and the brawny man, now without his copper ball, remained in a narrow confrontation.

The brawny man scoffed to embolden himself, his arm muscles bulging like coiled dragons. Just as he was about to try to disarm the spear with his bare hands and blunt the opponent's momentum, in the next instant, his body was suspended in the air.

A spear pierced the man's robust body. Not only that, but the immense penetrating force also knocked him off his horse, skewering him obliquely in mid-air. As the spear tip was withdrawn, the powerfully built man fell to the ground, lifeless.

Yuan Zuozong, holding the spear, calmly turned his horse within the encirclement of demonic figures, leisurely completing a full circle. Not a single person dared to challenge or attack him.

Hu Chunya's mouth hung open, her face filled with horror."That's it? It's over?" she thought."Shouldn't these terrifying demonic figures be chasing that white-haired boy and making him roll on the ground?"

Xu Zhan's eyes were strange. An old martial arts saying goes: "Thirty percent staff, seventy percent spear." Staff and spear techniques are related, but generally, spear thrusts are linear, their circular motions and extensions wonderfully subtle, while staff strikes cover a wide area, their hacking and pounding like a torrential downpour. Xu Zhan had delved into staff techniques for many years, and his father was a renowned master in this field. To an outsider, Yuan Zuozong's understated spear thrust simply seemed fast, nothing unusual. But Xu Zhan knew the true meaning of that spear thrust; it had reached the masterful peak described in his father Xu Daqiu's "Treatise on Observing Techniques." Before reaching mastery, martial artists are often confused by the dense and complex moves in martial arts manuals. But once they cross the threshold and break through the illusion, things become increasingly simple and clear. There are few mnemonic verses to memorize, and certainly no dozens or hundreds of flashy, sequential routines. When a true master faces an enemy, life and death are often decided instantly: the living add another wronged soul to their reputation, while the dead obediently reincarnate.

Lu Linggui was indifferent to the dead man, calmly praising, "As expected of General Yuan Baixiong, hailed as the top cavalry fighter of the Spring and Autumn period."

Yuan Zuozong slowly retreated on his horse, dragging his spear, his demeanor unmatched.

Hu Chunya, typically stubborn and focused, looked somewhat dazed, thinking, "How incredibly dashing!" She then stubbornly grumbled to herself, "What a complete shame! Such a valiant hero, serving as a subordinate to someone who only knows how to babble."

Xu Fengnian laughed, "Luckily, Wang Xiaoping of Wudang isn't here, otherwise none of you would get away."

As he spoke, a middle-aged Daoist priest carrying a brand-new peach wood sword appeared behind the twenty riders.

After the Battle of Shenwu City, the Wudang Sword Enthusiast, who had been as elusive as a dragon with only its head appearing, now displayed a 'mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind' formation.

Xu Fengnian gave a roguish laugh. "I told you I have a jinxed mouth, and it always comes true."

The Dao may be one foot tall, but the Demonic path is ten feet tall. Yet today, the Dao is three hundred feet taller than you.

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