Strange Tales: The Seventy-Two Arts of the Earthly Fiends

Chapter 78 Enemies Meet on a Narrow Road

Suddenly, a strange phenomenon occurred. A group of soldiers, armed with bows, crossbows, and spears, stood outside the campfire, watching the two odd figures with bated breath.

The iron chains clanged as they were pulled.

Thin, black lines emanated from the two figures' bodies, piercing their skin and shimmering with a subtle, shimmering light. They waved and swayed towards the three people before them, as if greeting them, or perhaps yearning for something.

With a flick of his staff, the monk Yuande caused the copper rings to vibrate and the chanting of Buddhist hymns to resonate.

The staff emitted a faint golden light, forcing the black lines back three feet.

But the black lines only contracted slightly before darting out again like snakes, gathering more and more, densely packed like overgrown weeds, completely covering the two inhuman figures.

Seeing that the insect was not afraid of the chanting, Yuande made a hand seal with his left hand, and a golden flame rose from his palm and struck the hitching post.

The bright flame landed on the shimmering black line, instantly spreading downwards and enveloping the two twisted bodies, emitting a hissing burning sound.

The two people who were poisoned trembled violently, and the word "hunger" in their throats suddenly rose and turned into a heart-wrenching scream.

But the screams only lasted a few breaths before subsiding, though the word "hunger" remained.

The flames burned ever brighter, and the two people bound by iron chains gradually fell silent. Their bodies were charred black, and the unburnt flesh below began to burst out grains of white rice—the eggs of the Gu insects—but these quickly turned black under the flames.

The flames gradually died down, leaving only two charred, curled-up remains on the hitching post. A night breeze blew, and ashes scattered in the air.

The soldiers surrounding the area held their bows, crossbows, and spears tightly, their eyes fixed on the pile of charred remains, as if afraid that something might emerge from the ashes.

Yuande clasped his hands together, bowed his head, and chanted: "Namo Amitabha Buddha, Tathagata Buddha..."

……

Oh no, the monks have taken over the job of performing the rites for the deceased.

Song Quyou shook his head, showing no particular displeasure, but looking at the scattered ashes, he sighed softly:

"Master, your Buddhist teachings are profound, I admire you. However, this task of praying for the souls of the dead should be done by us Taoists. Your diligence makes me seem like I'm just freeloading."

Upon hearing this, Lu Shusheng couldn't help but cover his mouth with his fan and chuckle twice.

After reciting the Rebirth Mantra, Monk Yuande looked up and saw that Song Quyou's expression was calm. He then put his palms together and said, "Benefactor, you flatter me. Saving people and eliminating demons are the same thing in Buddhism and Taoism. I only acted just now because I saw that the Gu worm was dangerous and had no other choice."

Song Quyou squatted down and used his longsword to stir up the ashes on the ground. There were still some unburnt white particles in the ashes, but they were quickly scorched by the embers and turned into a charred color, sparking.

"This Gu is quite interesting. It replaces the body's meridians. When the host is alive, he is a walking corpse, and when he dies, he becomes a breeding ground for Gu eggs."

Unfortunately, it's unknown where this person contracted the Gu worms...

Before he finished speaking, the painting on Song Quyou's back suddenly began to shake.

A large, black nose peeked out, followed by a yellow-headed, white-faced creature that squeezed through the gap, twisting and deforming. Its black eyes seemed to be looking somewhere else, its whites were all visible, but this could not stop its urgent urge to come out, and it kept making anxious "woof" sounds.

Seeing the perfect opportunity, the vengeful Black Charcoal struck Song Quyou on the back of the exposed dog head with a dozen or so sharp blows, the cat's claws leaving afterimages.

The golden puppy finally squeezed out of the painting, wagging its curly tail, sniffing around, its clean nose covered in ash.

It sneezed, its yellow fur trembled, then it raised its head, barked twice at Song Quyou, grabbed Song Quyou's clothes, and pulled him out of the military camp, wagging its tail even more enthusiastically.

Scholar Lu asked in surprise, "What has the Taoist priest's dog smelled?"

Song Quyou looked down at the little yellow dog that was tugging at his clothes. It was pawing at the ground, its tail was wagging like a yellow cloud, and it was making whimpering urging noises.

"Let's go take a look."

Song Quyou raised his long sword, Monk Yuande picked up his nine-ringed staff, and Scholar Lu closed his iron fan and followed closely behind.

The puppy spread its four paws, nose close to the ground, swirling up dead leaves and debris, and led the three into the mountains.

It would sometimes stop to sniff the ground, sometimes tilt its head back to find its way, its curly tail always held straight and swaying, full of spirit.

The three followed closely behind, walking further and further off the main road, gradually leaving behind a dense thicket of mixed trees.

The moonlight, fragmented by the withered branches, spilled onto the ground like shards of silver.

Monk Yuande held his nine-ringed staff upright in front of him, the copper rings ringing softly, their sound particularly clear in the quiet mountain forest.

Lu Shusheng gripped his iron fan tightly, glancing back every now and then, his face tense.

As for Song Quyou, he had a solemn expression and followed closely behind the little yellow dog.

The three of them moved with incredible speed, while the little yellow dog ahead moved as fast as lightning.

I don't know how long we've been traveling.

The east is turning white.

The three arrived at a dry valley.

The dried-up riverbed was covered with pebbles, which looked lifeless and gray in the dim light of the sky.

The cliffs on both sides are steep and sheer, and the exposed rock layers are a sickly bluish-white, like the thick, peeling white powder applied to the body of a respectable family that has been dead for a long time.

The little yellow dog stopped in the middle of the riverbed, sniffed the ground, and suddenly raised its neck and let out a series of rapid barks.

The cries echoed back and forth in the empty valley, extremely jarring.

Song Quyou strode forward and looked down to see messy footprints on the sand between the pebbles. The footprints were of varying depths and had worn edges, indicating that the steps were unsteady, hurried, and urgent, as if someone was fleeing for their life.

The three followed the footprints and walked further in, when suddenly a bloody smell wafted over.

Deep in the valley, there was a blood-stained skeleton. The skeleton was huge, like an elephant, but the claws and head resembled those of a tiger.

Song Quyou crouched down and used the tip of his sword to poke at the white bone. The bone surface was covered with teeth marks, indicating that something had gnawed at it.

Below, there was tiger blood that had not yet dried.

At this moment, a bottle shimmering with ink jumped out of Song Quyou's arms and licked the tiger blood on the ground.

This is the bottle that the person who gifted the painting asked him to use as paint, obtained from demon blood.

……

Lu Shusheng said, "The tiger bone is too big; it must have become a spirit long ago."

The three of them stood around the tiger bone, looking at the fine teeth marks.

The little yellow dog sniffed around, and its chubby body had just passed a cliff when it suddenly retreated.

It looked around, and was about to bark to warn the dog when a burst of energy pierced through the cliff, swirling around the wind and breaking the rocks, and struck the spot where the little yellow dog was standing.

Song Quyou's pupils contracted sharply. The gust of wind came too fast; he couldn't get forward in time and could only let out a soft cry.

"wind!"

A sudden gust of wind blew, sending the stunned little yellow dog flying several feet.

The powerful energy shot through the air and instantly exploded where the little yellow dog had just landed.

Dust filled the air, and pebbles flew everywhere, crackling and popping against the cliff face.

The little yellow dog was blown away by the strong wind and rolled twice. When it got up, its yellow fur was all messy and covered in dust, but it was not afraid at all. It still held its neck high and bared its teeth at the cliff, making a childish whimpering threat.

"Who goes there!" Lu Shusheng unfolded his iron fan with a whoosh, and a golden light was fanned out, flying towards the source of the gust of wind.

Without uttering a word, Monk Yuande slammed his staff down, causing the nine rings to ring in unison, and the chanting of Buddhist hymns surged toward the cliff like a tide.

At this moment, the once bare mountain wall began to ripple, and as Yuande chanted sutras, the ripples gradually grew larger, and finally shattered like glass, falling and turning into fireflies that flickered and disappeared.

After the fireflies faded, a narrow opening was revealed in the mountain wall.

Song Quyou shook his sleeve and threw the paper crane. The paper crane that flapped its wings in the air transformed into two red firebirds, which flew into the cave entrance and illuminated the inside of the cave.

The cave wasn't deep, and I could vaguely see an old Taoist priest with a grim face and a dusty, gray body. I didn't know if he was dead or alive.

Suddenly, an old, hoarse voice came from inside:

"Purification Talisman! You young upstart, you're still too green to play with fire in front of me."

As he spoke, a fiery python shot out from within, growing longer in the wind until it was as thick as a water bucket in the blink of an eye. It opened its blazing maw and swallowed the three of them whole.

"Be careful!"

Monk Yuande swung his staff horizontally, and golden light condensed into a barrier, forcefully blocking the fire python three feet away.

The fire python collided with the golden light and exploded with a bang, scattering sparks that landed on the surrounding rocks, scorching large and small round pits that hissed and emitted a pungent, acrid smell.

As the fire died down, the old Taoist priest emerged from the cave. His deeply lined face caused Song Quyou's pupils to shrink. This was someone Song Quyou would never forget in his life. Years ago, it was this old Taoist priest who had tricked the entire village into believing he was a demon and trying to burn him alive.

Song Quyou slowly drew his longsword, frowned, and stepped forward: "Yang Danzi, do you still recognize me?"

The valley was so quiet that only the night wind howled.

The old Taoist priest squinted his cloudy eyes and, by the dim light of the dying fire, scrutinized Song Quyou's face several times.

"I didn't recognize you, but I did recognize the Crimson Sun Flowing Pill in your Niwan Palace. What a pity, what a pity, I didn't refine you into a pill and eat you back then, it's truly a regret..."

Although Song Quyou was filled with resentment, he was unusually restrained at this moment. Looking at Yang Danzi, whose face was deeply etched and who could barely straighten his back, he said:

"Yang Danzi, you're old, it's time for you to die."

Yang Danzi was used to the curses of those seeking revenge, and he was also used to seeing their angry, ugly faces.

But for some reason, today I saw that although the young Taoist priest's eyes were filled with anger, he was not ugly or deformed, and his words were not vulgar or offensive. Yet, I took his words to heart.

In an instant, a heavy, lingering aura emanated from the very marrow of my bones, impossible to conceal.

Yang Danzi has grown even older.

"I'm getting old...it's time for me to die..."

Yang Danzi repeated it in a low voice, as if he had a phlegm stuck in his throat, making a gurgling sound.

He raised his hand and touched his face. His deep-set, loose skin looked grayish-white and dry in the dim morning light, like old tree bark that was difficult to smooth out.

"I am old, but I cannot die yet. After all, my child is still alive. As long as I refine the child into a pill, I can continue to live."

As soon as Yang Danzi finished speaking, a glint of light suddenly flashed in his cloudy old eyes, and his withered, bony hand emerged from under his sleeve.

Eight fiery pythons, growing longer in the wind, instantly spiraled into the air from the palm of his hand, opening eight blazing maws to block all escape routes for the three of them.

A wave of heat hit him, and Lu Shusheng took three steps back. He fanned himself wildly with his iron fan, and beams of golden light shot out, but they were like mud oxen entering the sea when they hit the fire python. They only splashed up a few sparks and then disappeared without a trace.

Yuan De planted the nine-ringed tin staff into the ground, clasped his hands together, and his body shone with golden light. A golden bell shield formed from Sanskrit characters enveloped the three of them.

Russian.

The fire python crashed into the golden bell, emitting a piercing hiss. Where the flames and golden light collided, bursts of crimson fire erupted, the heat so intense that it was impossible to open one's eyes.

Clang!

A streak of green light pierced through the curtain of fire; it was Song Quyou, wielding a longsword, aiming straight for Yang Danzi's throat.

Yang Danzi sneered, his robes billowing as he retreated three zhang like a night owl, his withered fingers drawing talismans in the air while he chanted incantations.

But just as the longsword was about to catch up with Yang Danzi, a deafening "gurgling" sound suddenly rang out.

It turned out that at some point, eight fire toads, each the size of a millstone, were squatting in the narrow cave entrance. Their bodies were bright red, like burning charcoal, and their backs were covered with bumps, each one pulsating slightly, as if they might burst open at any moment.

Their jaws were like balls, and their bellies like jars. The sound they emitted was so powerful that Song Quyou had no choice but to turn around and raise his sword to defend himself.

Song Quyou originally wanted to use a silencing spell to shut the eight toads up, but the sound waves they emitted didn't require them to open their mouths.

As the sound waves drew closer, the sword's blade shimmered with azure light, splitting the invisible sound waves in two. The resulting sonic boom roared past him, causing his robes to flutter wildly.

At this moment, Yang Danzi, who had been drawing the talisman, traced the final path in the void with his fingertips, and the talisman was completed.

The talisman was earthy yellow and looked unremarkable, but as it sank into the riverbed, a yellow light instantly enveloped Song Quyou and the other two.

Between breaths.

The dried-up riverbed trembled violently.

The pebbles bounced, the sand boiled, and the ground beneath their feet suddenly became as soft as mud. A huge suction force came from the ground, trying to drag the three of them down into the earth.

"Earth Prison Talisman?" Song Quyou recognized the talisman, but there was no record of how to draw it in the temple. This was because the traitor had taken away the talisman's secret treasure, and there were few people in the temple, so they could not remember all the talismans.

At this moment, Monk Yuande, who was struggling to hold back the eight fire pythons, suddenly found his feet sinking into the ground. The huge suction forced him to open his eyes wide with anger, his veins bulging. He grabbed the panicked scholar next to him and leaped up from the ground. At the same time, his whole body was radiant with Buddhist light, and the soft mud around him solidified instantly, turning into solid ground.

Meanwhile, the little yellow dog had somehow transformed into a magnificent yellow hound as tall as a person, and together with the ethereal black charcoal, they were fighting against the eight toads outside the boundary.

Song Quyou possessed the art of controlling the wind. His feet were on soft, flowing sand, and his body swayed in the air, his sleeves fluttering lightly, his feet not touching the ground, several inches above the ground.

Although it could float, it was drawn in by the yellow light below, swaying left and right, unable to move forward or backward, and was stuck in place.

The yellow light beneath his feet grew increasingly intense, the mud churned like boiling porridge, and the pebbles and sand were stirred into a turbid vortex. The suction force grew stronger with each wave, and Song Quyou floated lower and lower.

"Master, this can't go on!" Lu Shusheng waved his iron fan repeatedly, and streaks of golden light pierced into the mud, but only splashed up a few clumps of mud.

Song Quyou gritted his teeth, his gaze passing over the churning mud, and fixed intently on Yang Danzi.

The old Taoist priest was standing outside the range of the Earth Prison Talisman, his withered fingers still forming a hand seal, a sinister smile on his lips, and his cloudy old eyes filled with disdain for slaughtering lambs.

"Boy, your wind manipulation technique is quite good. When you're about to die, I'll have to thoroughly search your soul."

……

While trapped, the yellow dog glanced back at the three people in the swamp, shook its head and flung away a fire toad before letting out a deafening bark.

Then the magnificent yellow dog, its four paws swift as the wind, swept across the ground. With a powerful leap, it opened its mouth and grabbed Song Quyou's sleeve, pulling him sharply backward.

Song Quyou felt a strong force coming from him, and his body was involuntarily dragged out of the swamp. He flipped twice in the air before he regained his balance and landed on a relatively solid pebble beach.

The yellow dog, however, failed to escape the earthen prison and fell into the yellow light, choking and sinking.