Chapter 517: The Young Master of the White Clothes Sect Appears
Chapter 517: The Young Master of the White Clothes Sect Appears
A moment later, corpses lay in a pool of blood in the ancestral hall.
Even if the unarmed farmers fought to the death, they could not cause much real damage to the outsiders.
"Master, a group of children ran away." The leading black-armored officer wiped the blood on the knife on Mr. Song's body and said unhappily.
The white-robed sorcerer breathed in the thick dejection in the air intoxicatedly, 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 other teenagers escaped from the ancestral hall, the group of teenagers split into several groups, each fleeing for their lives and 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. Xiaowu gritted his teeth, with only the sound of the wind in his ears. On both sides of the road, there 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 unharmed, what happened today was a real disaster.
The city is quite far from the village. By the time 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 city in a hurry and bring back soldiers to kill all the bandits.
But the pursuers behind him were getting closer.
The black-armored officer rode his warhorse and easily caught up with the fleeing boy. He clamped his legs around 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 need to shoot him to death?"
The soldiers on horseback were chatting and laughing:
"I know you are good at archery, but you are riding a horse. You need at least three arrows... or even five arrows."
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 when shooting at a person."
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 catapulted out by inertia, fell on the road, rolled several times, his head was bleeding, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to 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 who was struggling 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, and only heard the thunder of horse hooves behind him. The sunlight was shrouded in shadows, and the rebels who were chasing him suddenly changed their expressions and turned around and ran away.
"Keep your head up."
The young man looked up in confusion at the sound, and saw the armored cavalrymen holding sharp weapons and the young man in brocade clothes on the horses who blocked out the sun.
He opened his mouth, recognized the face, and his throat choked up, 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 blood-stained boy. After a brief recollection, he suddenly said:
"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 naughty at first seemed to have grown up because of this disaster of genocide. 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 boy's shoulders trembled and he burst into tears.
Zhao Duan was silent, and the hundreds of light cavalrymen behind him were also silent.
Suddenly, Zhao Duan smiled, but his smile was a little cold:
"I have always had a bad reputation outside, and the people of Songjiazhuang have not left a good impression on me. 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'. Your clan leader is Zhengyang's student. So, after all the calculations, he is also half of my disciple. So, this matter cannot be paid without blood debt.
Everyone, listen up! Disperse immediately and kill the rebels. I will not leave a single one alive!"
More than a hundred light cavalrymen 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. 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, surrounded and strangled the rebels who were scattered throughout the village, leaving Xiaowu kneeling on the loess road, stunned and speechless.
……
Songjiazhuang is very big.
Zhao Duan took a quick 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 charged 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 only Tang Ping and others guarding there.
And when he followed the qi flow, passed through the burning buildings and arrived at the Song Clan Ancestral Hall, he saw five sorcerers in white standing quietly outside the hall, as if... waiting for him?
The five sorcerers were all dressed in white robes, and 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 that smile always contained a hint of arrogance and sarcasm, as if it was a superior character 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 stallion in the White Horse Prison that hasn't been castrated?"
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 shame at all, allowing a bunch of rats in the gutter to walk around openly." The young sorcerer laughed:
"With your intelligence, you should know the principle of 'the victor is the king and the loser is the bandit'. What is a righteous god or an evil god? It is nothing more than a division made by the strong. If King Mu ascends the throne, why can't our Baiyi Sect become a famous and upright sect respected by all?
Just like the Great Yu royal family six hundred years ago, didn’t they also establish the dynasty with blood on their hands? Who is better than who? "
Zhao Duan had no interest in talking nonsense or debating. The reason he did not draw his knife 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 doubted 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, regardless of everything and bursting out with all his strength, can briefly possess the ability to compete with the world's perfection.
Even if he performs normally, he is only an average-level fighter in the world. Even if there are masters in the Baiyi Sect, there won't be many of them in the worldly realm. How could it be easy to run into one?
Suddenly, a breeze blew past behind him, and a pair of jade sleeves floated in front of Zhao Duan, saying calmly:
"Leave this group of people to me. I have a strict rule as a priest in the Tianshi Mansion. If you encounter any evildoers, you must kill them. Lord Zhao will just stay behind and watch over you."
I almost forgot about you...
Zhao Duan was stunned for a moment, looking at the beautiful Taoist nun's green Taoist 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 cemetery with graves standing in the weeds. Because no one takes care of them, the weeds have grown waist-high.
The surrounding villagers avoided this place and there were many 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 half of his face covered with a scarf of the same color. His dirty black hair was loose and tangled because he never washed or combed it.
On his back was a long sword made of copper coins, which looked sloppy, 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 want to give face to the empress, why don't you think about the thoughts of that old guy who hasn't been out of the Tianshi Mansion in the capital for decades? Young people, you are still too young."
The crow, blacker than ink, spoke human language:
"Is that guy Zhang Yanyi's illegitimate son? Even the Zhudian boys of each generation don't have this standard when they go out for training. Should they send someone to guard him?"
The leader of the Dark Cult glared at the outspoken crow:
"You are so stubborn. If you want to show off, don't take me with you. I am alive and well, but I don't want to get involved in the plots and fights of those gods and men. Who knows that this Zhao is involved in so many things? It would be fine if he was just a concubine."
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 more than ten miles, looking at the scene in the ancestral hall of Songjiazhuang. A fierce light flashed in his eyes, and he muttered to himself:
"I stopped being provoked when I was three years old. I, the Dark Sect, just don't want to get involved in those meaningless fights. Life is only 36,000 days long. Wouldn't it be better to earn some money to buy life? I just don't want to get involved.
Moreover, I have already seen the aura of the god of death covering the world... If Zhang Yan does not come out of the mountain, it will be fine. But even if he does, I will spend all my savings and send him directly to the underworld."
……
……
The Song family ancestral temple 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 fights, the court shouldn't interfere in the affairs of the cultivation world. Lord 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 on your own."
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, and then became even brighter:
"The Jade Sleeve Priest killed many of my White Robe Sect's disciples in Baihua Village last time. The young master also keeps a record of this."
"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 sad face:
"Two people... It's really a headache. I wanted to keep you, Envoy Zhao, but it seems that it will be difficult today. Haha, but..."
His smile suddenly became bright, and the mourning stick in his hand suddenly stabbed into the ground. The surrounding world suddenly changed. The light in the ancestral hall that was originally bright and sunny quickly dimmed, and his voice floated 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 that the White-Robed Warlocks collect and inhale, and store in the small coffin that is their own destiny, which is tied to their waists.
Once the moving technique was performed, the sad air in the coffin would gush out through the mourning stick. In an instant, the light in the entire ancestral hall dimmed, 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 chilly breath rising.
This feeling was not unfamiliar to him.
Back in Jianning Prefecture, he was cursed by a sorcerer from the White Robe Sect and fell ill in his sleep. At the same time, his own life star dimmed, his luck fell to the bottom, and he became extremely unlucky.
At this moment, the White Sect sorcerer who was proficient in the art of cursing had shrouded the entire ancestral hall area in the shadow of the dead god.
The luck of the enemies in this area has declined to the bottom, they are in a bad mood, and their fighting spirit has waned.
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 the layers of curses swept over, most of which enveloped the Jade Sleeve Priest.
In just a breath of time, the light on the jade sleeve quickly faded away, visible to the naked eye:
His complexion turned pale, his eye sockets turned dark, his aura dropped, and even the jade flying sword at his waist became dim.
Shi Luoyi smiled and said, "The Heavenly Master's disciples are indeed extremely powerful, but how much of them are left now?"
(End of this chapter)