Roaring Dragon-Chapter 133: Abyss of the Cold Tide

At first, Linghu Qingmo had no idea what was happening—but soon, dizziness set in, as if some sinister charm had invaded her mind.

She remembered the warning and didn’t resist. And then, suddenly—she understood.

The gloomy forest around her grew strikingly clear, and even the wind and rain sounded layered and distinct. Though her sight couldn’t pierce the tide of black mist ahead, she could sense the flow of its energy, tracking it like a tide, and knew—there was someone inside.

She didn’t know how she saw it—but she just did. It felt like some ancient ancestor had possessed her, guiding her from beyond.

So this... is the Invocation Art?

Damn impressive...

Caught in this awed confusion, Linghu Qingmo glanced—almost involuntarily—at Xie Jinhuan’s upright figure. That glance revealed something unexpected: she could see into his body.

Energy surged within him, centered on his qi sea, flowing along every meridian, coiled and ready to explode. And deep within his lower dantian, a blazing, unspent yang essence—like a suspended sun—roiled in place.

Eh? What the hell is this...

Didn’t he sleep with Doctor Lin already?

Was it a nap?! Does that mean I’m—

Pft pft pft!

Linghu Qingmo realized her thoughts were spiraling off into inappropriate directions. She quickly forced herself to focus—attention back on the black mist.

Xie Jinhuan sensed Mo Mo’s gaze wandering and knew she had seen through. He said nothing more—just leaned forward slightly, sword in hand—

BOOM—

CRASHHHHH—

Rain crashed, winds roared!

Xie Jinhuan’s three-foot blade angled to the earth as his figure became a streaking blur, kicking up the muddy ground behind him. His cloak flew aside, revealing white robes flashing like a bolt of silver lightning—rushing straight at the black mist-shrouded ghost face.

Kui Yunya was still puzzling over this “Invocation Art,” when Xie Jinhuan shot toward him like a mad dog. He lifted his five-foot Soul-Summoning Banner—its black fabric fluttering with his qi—and, as if pulled by invisible hands, the banner stretched wide, transforming into tens of thousands of ice needles—

BOOM—

The dark mist that blanketed the sky surged like a black tsunami, swept forward by an arctic wind. From within, a piercing shriek echoed—

WMMM—

But Xie Jinhuan didn’t dodge. He stomped hard, becoming a white thunderbolt. His Zhenglun Sword angled behind him, gleaming with pale lightning, as he flipped out the Yellow Qilin Seal with his left hand.

Whoosh—

Infused with qi, the seal blazed red-hot like a branding iron. A thumb-thick flame shot from the qilin’s mouth, bursting three feet out before detonating—becoming a molten wave of heat capable of melting fine steel!

A moment later, an icy chill slammed into him. Swarms of ice locusts burst from the black mist, trailing black tails behind them. They hit the flames and instantly vaporized—like an avalanche crashing into a forge. A fiery rift tore through the ghost mist!

Kui Yunya saw this and muttered—so many damn artifacts... He thrust his Soul-Summoning Banner forward. Bone-deep cold surged outward, instantly freezing the ground. Raindrops turned to ice before they hit the ground.

CRACK-CRACK—

Xie Jinhuan had barely advanced a few paces before it felt like slamming into a polar hell. The Qilin Seal’s fire was instantly snuffed, and his limbs began to slow under the cold’s bite.

Just then—

CRACK-BOOM!

Linghu Qingmo, having sensed the ghost cultivator’s spell, held her sword upright and chanted:

“Nine Heavens Tiangang, Five Elements Transmute—Earth Fiends summon thunder, Divine Dragon coils in form... By the Celestial Mandate—strike!”

KRAKOOOM—

A bowl-thick bolt of blue-white lightning burst from her blade, crackled through rain and ice, and slammed directly into Kui Yunya!

Sword and ghost connected by a blinding arc—like a white gash across the night. No time to react.

Kui Yunya, hidden within the mist, never expected that a mere mid-tier fourth-rank Daoist girl could land a direct hit.

Lightning was the king of spells. Regardless of cultivation level, its speed barely varied—only its power. Ghost cultivators could chant all day in their misty theatrics, but when lightning struck, it struck.

The moment it hit, Kui Yunya’s body went rigid, then collapsed backward!

Seeing the bolt tear through the dark, Xie Jinhuan didn’t pause for a second. He followed the lightning trail like a predator, qi flooding his sword, feet sliding as if drawn by a taut bowstring. He let out a thunderous roar:

“HAAAH—!”

CRACK—

His sword cleaved down like a crescent moon, wrapped in roaring force!

The ground shattered beneath him. A cyclone of ice and leaves rose into the air and crashed into the forest floor.

A strip of forest—over ten feet wide—was cleanly torn open, revealing the black soil beneath!

His overwhelming force carved through the mist, severing the icy domain and hammering directly onto the point where the lightning had struck.

But Kui Yunya, though not as physically tough as a body-refiner, was no glass-cannon shaman either.

Before hitting the ground, he had already recovered from the initial paralysis. Black ghost mist surged from his body, and with a blast like an ink cloud, he sprinted sideways over ten meters, vanishing back into the fog.

FWOOSH—

Like a ghost.

He first tried to strike back—but quickly realized something was off.

That little Daoist girl—might have actually channeled her ancestor.

Linghu Qingmo, realizing her strongest thunder spell hadn’t finished him, switched to a beginner-level technique. Though the bolts were only thumb-thick, they came fast and relentless:

Zzzap zzzap zzzap—

Though not homing spells, her bolts hit wherever she aimed!

Kui Yunya, flitting soundlessly through the mist, should’ve been hard to track. But somehow—those bolts kept hitting his head.

He dodged and danced, but she predicted every dodge.

From afar, it looked like the lightning had legs—and ran up to meet him.

Linghu Qingmo, for her part, was also confused.

Since when were enemies this cooperative? Every time I aim—he’s right there! When I miss—he dodges into it like he’s afraid I’ll embarrass myself in front of Jinhuan!

If slaying evil was always this easy, I’d be Sect Leader by now!

One zap won’t kill you? What about a hundred?!

Is this what it feels like to be possessed by an ancestor?!

No wonder that singing-dancing shaman sect became legit...

...

Kui Yunya, after getting zapped a dozen times, was shook. Though leagues above them in cultivation, having his forehead electrocuted nonstop was seriously starting to hurt. Even he couldn’t remain composed.

The others couldn’t see him—but the flashes of lightning gave away his rough silhouette.

That was all the burly fighters needed.

Junior Constable Xiao Wang picked up his spirit-piercing crossbow and fired a volley. The special arrows burst mid-air, scattering invisible paralysis needles like shotgun pellets.

Liu Qingzhi and his partner lobbed suppression spheres that unfurled into “Immortal-Binding Nets” mid-flight. Useless against high-tier cultivators—but great for blocking movement.

Xie Jinhuan pressed forward like thunder, never giving the ghost a chance to slip behind the formation.

Kui Yunya, now twitching from repeated shocks, decided to stop playing nice. He erupted a thick cloud of black mist—

POOF—

Two shadows shot out in opposite directions, then split into four—then eight...

In seconds, dozens of black-cloaked figures darted through the woods.

This was the “Ten Thousand Forms of the Yin Demon”, a signature technique of Dark God Cult’s inner circle. Kui Yunya sacrificed his own blood to control corpse-smoke clones with his soul, making them indistinguishable from his true self. At its peak, one man became a thousand—designed to break targeted assassination arts.

Ordinarily, not even aura-sensing techniques could tell them apart.

But—

Zzzap zzzap zzzap—

Linghu Qingmo immediately sensed which one was real—its presence burned like sunlight. She mused: You trying to blind me with this? Typical demonic logic...

Xiao Wang kept pulling the trigger, utterly unaware this was some high-tier divine escape technique he’d only ever heard in storyteller’s tales.

Xie Jinhuan did glance at the clones—but if Mo Mo zapped one, he followed. Period.

?

Kui Yunya pulled out one of the cult’s secret life-saving techniques, only to find nobody even blinked.

He was shocked.

I spent years perfecting this—used to make righteous sects soil themselves—and y’all don’t even flinch?!

Did that little Daoist really call down the Dao Ancestor himself?!

If y’all aren’t playing fair—then neither will I!

He stopped mid-sprint, jammed the Soul-Summoning Banner into the earth—

BOOM—

CRRRAACK—

A vicious ice ring spread from the impact point, instantly freezing the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} ground and air, erupting deadly ice spikes from the leaf-strewn soil!

Xie Jinhuan slammed into the ring head-on. His soaked robes instantly froze. Sensing danger, he launched backward—his retreat marked by snapping cloth.

CRRACK—

The spikes kept following, forcing him back nearly twenty meters—pushing him back to the squad’s formation.

KRAK-BOOM—

The mini-lightning bolts still danced around Kui Yunya’s scalp. His now-bald head even emitted a faint burnt smell.

But now he was done dodging.

He held the Soul-Summoning Banner in one hand, glared past the others, and locked eyes on the little priestess:

“Spell for spell, huh? FINE! I’ll play!”

With a spin, he whipped the banner—

WHOOSH—

Leaves and rain bent backward from the pressure.

A cold whirlwind spun up, gathering raindrops into endless ice spikes that shot toward the group—

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—

From afar, it looked like a river of white daggers crashing through the woods.

And within that river—a slithering streak of lightning cut upstream like an electric eel!

Facing this death tide, Xie Jinhuan spun his sword, activated the Qilin Seal, and unleashed a wheel of fire—

SHHHH—

BOOM—

Flames and ice collided. Flame flickered, extinguished, then roared back. Liu Qingzhi and the others behind felt searing heat—then bone-freezing cold crashing over them.

They fought back, but after just moments, their limbs slowed—their black armor cracked, ice forming over them like creeping sculptures.

The constables collapsed to one knee, shields frozen to their hands.

Yang Dabiao, shielding Linghu Qingmo, yelled:

“Hurry—kill him already!”

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—

Linghu Qingmo was protected by fire and bodies—safe for now. She poured all her strength into endless lightning bolts that kept slamming into Kui Yunya’s skull.

It was a contest of brute force now—nothing fancy.

Xie Jinhuan stood firm, blade radiating heat. His legs, however, were bleeding and frozen in place.

He quickly snatched Liu Qingzhi’s spear and—

WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH—

Seven-foot spear, wrapped in fire, swept through the ice flood like a flaming dragon!

It turned the headwinds into tailwinds, pulling melting ice from comrades’ bodies into the vortex. A firestorm swept the field!

Kui Yunya pushed all his qi into the banner, unleashing torrents of cold like a glacier collapsing—but Xie Jinhuan, durable as ever, countered with pure strength and fire, even stabbing forward mid-surge—

BOOM—

The spear’s tip burst through the cold tide—nearly hitting Kui Yunya!

But still short by several feet.

Kui Yunya, continuously zapped and now singed, wobbled—but didn’t fall. Then—

BWOOOO—

A shrill whistle rang out from behind him!

A Ghostcry Curse, a Gu Sect sound-based soul attack. Those struck would fall into confusion, their minds clouded.

Hit square in the back, Kui Yunya’s killing intent flickered—the cold surge halted.

Then he realized—someone snuck behind him!

He turned and swung the banner—

WHOOSH—

Frost painted the forest white.

BOOM—

At that instant, Xie Jinhuan rotated the spear into a spiral drill and charged—slamming into Kui Yunya!

Three-way assault. He couldn’t keep up. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

As Xie Jinhuan thrust, Kui Yunya swiped the banner like a black iron rod—

CLANG—

The spear shattered. Xie Jinhuan was knocked off-angle—but spun mid-air and delivered a whip-kick straight to Kui Yunya’s skull—

SMACK—

Three-rank martial force. Would’ve killed any non-body-refiner on the spot.

Kui Yunya blocked with the banner—but the pole bent like a bow, and the force still sent him stumbling. Midair, lightning struck again—

Xie Jinhuan didn’t waste the opening. As he landed, the Tiangang Mace flew from his hand like a spinning disc:

“DIE!”

BOOM—

It blasted toward Kui Yunya’s chest.

Kui Yunya twisted, caught the mace—

BOOM!

His entire left arm and shoulder exploded into mist and bone fragments!

But he still pointed the banner—

Xie Jinhuan had already drawn his Zhenglun Sword, lightning coiling off the blade—

But before he could step forward—his limbs froze.

Red mist coiled from his bleeding arms, pouring into the banner. His soul screamed in agony.

“Look out!” Linghu Qingmo cried. She fired lightning relentlessly, trying to break the Soul Extraction Technique.

The others, dragging frozen limbs, dove toward Kui Yunya.

Xie Jinhuan knew he was being soul-ripped. Kui Yunya wouldn’t kill him instantly—but he’d die soon.

So he pressed forward, sword raised, forcing Kui Yunya to keep his hand on the banner.

Kui Yunya, now missing half his body, locked eyes with Xie Jinhuan—no fear, just a hoarse murmur:

“No wonder those two brats feared you like a goddamn plague... You are hard to kill...”

SLASH—

Yang Dabiao leapt, greatsword cleaving his neck in one brutal stroke!

THUNK—

Liu Qingzhi followed up with a spear to the chest.

And Xie Jinhuan, freed from the soul bind, launched forward and—SPLIT—bisected the flying head with one cleave.

CRACK—

Linghu Qingmo landed, plunging her sword into the corpse—

ZZZAP—

Lightning scorched the flesh to blackened ash.

The storm-torn forest fell silent, save for the pounding rain on the frozen land.

Pitter-patter...

Xie Jinhuan, soaked and steaming, held the smoking banner cautiously.

Yang Dabiao and the others stood shivering, armor clinking with ice shards.

Constables Xiao Wang and his partner were frozen in place, beards and robes turned to brittle frost.

Liu Qingzhi, still pale, asked:

“Is he dead?”

Linghu Qingmo, exhausted, kept her sword in the corpse, eyes scanning.

“Ghost cultivators are hard to kill—but once their bodies are destroyed, it’s like smashing a top-tier artifact. He won’t be fighting anytime soon.”

“...What was that old freak’s cultivation? Took over fifty bolts and still nearly killed us. What the actual hell...”

“Definitely first-rank. We can’t stay here—move!”

The group rushed to rescue their frozen comrades.

Xie Jinhuan ran toward the source of the whistle.

There, huddled behind a tree—soaked and shivering—was Wan Yi, her black cloak crusted with ice.

“Wan Yi?!”

“I-I’m fine... What was that thing?! That flag nearly killed me from across the field...”

“Don’t talk.”

Xie Jinhuan crouched down, lifted her onto his back, and ran.

She had come to speak to him about the Jiazi Lotus she’d traced to Shishu Bu, only to find he’d gone to Hongzhang. She chased after him—only to run into hell.

Already afflicted by cold yin, she had low resistance to this kind of cold spell. Now, legs numb and trembling, she clung to his back—

And finally closed her eyes, warmth and safety washing over her.