Roaring Dragon-Chapter 134: Fellow Daoist, Must You Truly Drive Me to Death?

Rumble——

Thunder rolled low across the sky as heavy rain smothered every sound across the mountain wilds.

Inside an abandoned mine several li from Little River Town, an old poison master from the Gu Poison Sect was huddled over a small campfire, roasting a rabbit on a stick. Even now, he still hadn't calmed down.

As a disciple of the Gu Poison Sect, walking the martial world of Great Qian was no easy feat. At best, one could call their kind ambiguous—neither righteous nor evil. But to speak plainly, both officials and cultists would come after them. Shunned by people, hated by dogs.

He had stopped earlier in the day at the Iron Lady Inn, thinking At least I can grab a hot bowl of noodles in Jianghu territory, right?

But of course, no such luck. First, seven hardened bastards in faux constable garb showed up, then Ironthorn Ridge burst with killing aura—it reeked of an Immortal Officer besieging a demonic patriarch.

To avoid being caught in the crossfire, the old poison master put his sect’s specialty to good use—he ran like hell!

Only now, hidden in this rat hole of a mine, did he find a sliver of peace. He even found himself worrying about that fellow sect member who turned himself in—What might’ve happened to him?

Poison masters were deadly in group combat—even apprentice-level disciples could wipe out villages with the right concoction. In terms of efficiency, they put demon cultivators to shame. But when it came to one-on-one fighting? Pathetic. In proper duels between cultivators, poisoners either hid to the end without a chance to act, or were the first to die when they showed their face—just like that other disciple of Taishu Dan, Du Qingyi.

Just as his thoughts wandered to such dreary places, a faint noise slipped through the curtain of rain outside the cave.

Pitter-patter...

The old poison master glanced up and spotted a small lost mountain sparrow flutter through the downpour and land at the cave mouth. It was soaked and stared straight at him.

"Huh?"

He squinted in suspicion, gave the bird a once-over, then dug out a few crumbs of dry grain.

“Here, birdie birdie...”

The sparrow didn’t move. Its gaze remained locked onto his. Then, red glinting light shimmered in its pupils—scarlet and deep, like a blood-drenched abyss that threatened to swallow the soul whole.

Tap. Tap. Tap...

The dry grain fell from the poison master’s hand. His expression froze as he stared, pupils trembling with horror, fear, and resistance—but his face stayed blank, motionless.

A dark mist began to swirl around the tiny sparrow’s body. It coiled into a wisp of black smoke and slowly floated toward the poison master’s forehead.

He was already ensnared. What he now saw was a ghostly figure nearly ten feet tall, wreathed in black flames, its demonic face twisted in malevolent glee. Crimson eyes glared down as one charred hand reached for his skull, muttering:

"Just borrowing your body for a bit. Once I’m done, I’ll give you a proper burial—hiss?!"

The poison master hadn’t even processed that when—

Clang—!

A sharp eagle’s cry split the air like a thunderclap.

The spell shattered. The poison master snapped back to his senses and collapsed backward in fright, scrambling to escape.

“Mercy, Daoist Lord, mercy—!”

Outside the cave, the sparrow jerked its head up just in time to see a black projectile plummet from the stormy sky—moving so fast it left only a shadowy streak as it shot past the entrance.

Whoosh—

The old poison master never even got a clear look. The sparrow was simply gone. All that remained were two drifting feathers... and its distant cry fading into the rain:

"Screeeeeee—~~"

The forest fell silent again.

What the hell was that?!

Shaking with dread, the poison master clutched his chest and head, realized he was still alive, then ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) turned and bolted—like a rat flushed from its hole.

Ironthorn Ridge.

Not long after the burst of ghostly yin energy over the ridge, the Divination Bureau’s Eight-Direction Luminous Tower received an emergency signal. First-rank ghost cultivators were exceedingly rare—nearly all Immortal Officers mobilized. By the time Xie Jinhuan and his group withdrew from the ridge, a high-ranking immortal had already arrived.

Nangong Ye hovered above the storm clouds, draped in black-and-white Daoist robes, a yellow-brown sword case slung over her back. The torrential rain parted before reaching her, forming an invisible dome of dryness around her.

Below, the Iron Lady Inn glowed with lantern light. Constables and wandering warriors bustled about, ferrying the wounded into carriages.

Two junior constables lay bundled in blankets, clearly frostbitten and still unconscious on stretchers.

Two palace guards in ink-scaled armor were upright but weak, needing help to walk.

Xie Jinhuan stood holding an unknown woman wrapped in a blanket. Her robes and pants were tattered, her energy and blood depleted, face pale. But her limbs only bore minor injuries and had already been bandaged—she was stable.

His dear disciple Mo Mo? Completely unscathed. Just severely drained, visibly fatigued.

Nangong Ye scanned the scene and relaxed slightly upon confirming no critical casualties.

Xie Jinhuan’s group was thoroughly exhausted, their combat strength wiped. They clearly had to return for treatment and couldn’t continue the investigation—but the Dark God Cult still needed chasing.

After the convoy sped off under heavy guard, Nangong Ye turned her gaze beyond Ironthorn Ridge, to a small county town dozens of li away.

The county wasn’t large, but it was prosperous. At night, its lights burned bright. Lanterns dotted the nearby mountain like a massive circle of flame—it was an open-air quarry.

She shot through the rain, heading for Red Camphor County. As she passed over Ironthorn Ridge, she glimpsed three high-ranked Immortal Officers standing on the still-frozen plateau, searching for clues.

She’d spent years slaying demons in the wilds. She knew ghost cultivators often left temporary vessels nearby—anchors for their souls. Once their main body died, their soul snapped back into the vessel. Unless they were superior-grade, it was near impossible to kill them outright.

Even at superior rank, one had to catch the soul instantly upon death—or else it would vanish back into its shell.

But ghost cultivators had weaknesses: getting resources was absurdly difficult, and their strength depended entirely on their host.

No body? No tricks. Even the legendary Corpse Ancestor couldn’t pull off much if he had to possess a sixth-rank nobody. At best, he could cast some weak curse.

Lost in thought, Nangong Ye arrived at the Red Camphor quarry. Hundreds of soldiers patrolled the site with torches, forming a massive ring of fire when viewed from above.

With rain pouring and night fallen, there were no prisoners working the site. Everyone was crammed into the jail built into the quarry’s side. Immortal Officers were already sweeping the cells.

Two officers inspected crates outside the dynamite depot on a hillside, chatting:

"Used to be full of Drunken Bone Incense. Looks like they moved it out early when the ridge flared up. Left behind a mess..."

"The ghost cultivator likely controlled everyone here with a formation. Shouldn’t be able to stir up more trouble now..."

"Only days since Danyang’s outbreak, and they’ve already set up shop here... These cultists are absurdly well-connected..."

"Huh? This map... It marks the mine layouts for Red Camphor, Blue River, and Zhen’an Counties?"

"Looks like it..."

...

Nangong Ye eavesdropped, then dashed south to try and intercept any cultist fleeing to the next site.

But she’d barely flown ten li when strange noises rose from the forest below:

Crack-snap!

"Cluck-cluck-cluck..."

"Caw?"

...

Sounded like two birds fighting—and going at it hard.

She hadn’t planned to stop, but come on—it’s the dead of night, storming rain, and two birds are brawling in the woods?

Who wouldn’t sneak a peek?

She paused, drifted to the treetops... and blinked.

Beneath the canopy was a leaf-littered clearing, already strewn with bloody corpses—sparrows, snakes, hedgehogs, even a leopard cat. It was a goddamn massacre.

A red-feathered pheasant stood in the middle, feathers half gone, bleeding heavily.

Two zhang away, a sleek black hawk crouched—its ink-dark feathers gleaming, amber eyes sharp as blades. The two glared each other down.

"Caw?"

Nangong Ye had seen her share of spirit beasts, but never two that squared off like martial artists posing for a duel.

More baffling? The pheasant wheezed, spat blood, and squawked:

"Cluck-cluck——"

If she interpreted that right... it said: "Fellow Daoist, must you truly drive me to death?"

...Of course, neither seemed to understand the other.

Ha?!

Nangong Ye thought she’d stumbled on some once-in-a-lifetime encounter. She held her breath and watched.

And then—

The pheasant moved. Its footwork was slick, zigzagging to bait a strike.

The black hawk? Unfazed. One claw strike. Then a sweeping wing. Then a headbutt like a battering ram!

The pheasant dodged with grace and even countered, sending the hawk tumbling—

Feathers flew. Leaves rustled.

They were fighting like... martial grandmasters!

What the hell?! Are they bird cultivators fighting for the title of world’s number one?!

No wonder all those woodland beasts got caught in the crossfire...

Then, the pheasant finally got killed—black smoke burst from its corpse, and a squirrel watching nearby lunged in... only to get shredded too.

Nangong Ye's face went cold.

These weren’t spirit beasts—they were shells for a ghost cultivator trying to flee!

Why hadn’t it possessed the hawk?

No time to wonder. She flashed forward, right hand raised—her sword case lit up with arcs of light.

Zheng-zheng-zheng——

Seven swords of varying shape burst forth, zipping through the forest like darting butterflies.

Swish-swish-swish—— 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The mountain air erupted with crushing pressure.

The rabbit that had become the next host tried to flee—but even if Kui Yunya’s true body were here, he wouldn’t survive two strikes. As for these trash hosts? Forget it.

Boom-boom-boom——

Seven craters exploded into the forest floor. The rabbit was obliterated—shredded into mist.

The seven swords converged into a circle. Lightning arced between them, forming a pale-blue thunder net—a Lightning Pool two zhang wide.

Zzzzzzzap——

And within it, a flickering humanoid silhouette appeared, face twisted in ghostly agony, silently howling.

Nangong Ye had trapped the real ghost body inside a Slaughter-Immortal Array. He couldn’t escape again.

She meant to chase the rare black hawk... but it had already vanished.

She landed before the Thunder Pool, looking at the ghost:

"Trapped in the Slaughter-Immortal Array, you won’t die. You’ll be sealed in this thunder prison, your soul tormented day and night, until your energy burns out and you reenter the cycle of reincarnation. With your cultivation, that'll take half a year. Tell me your informants, and I’ll make it quick."

Kui Yunya's outline flickered in the lightning, twisted like a vengeful spirit. He howled:

“If not for that goddamn beast chasing me to death, you think you’d have caught me?! Even if I go to the animal realm, living six more months might buy me a chance to escape. Kill me if you dare!”

"..."

Nangong Ye didn’t reply. She raised her hand.

Buzz——

The seven swords embedded in the forest hummed, then lifted and dragged the ghost toward her.

Clang-clang-clang-clang—

All seven returned to her sword case. It sealed with a snap.

But Nangong Ye coughed softly, blood at her lips.

Gritting her teeth, she vanished into the stormy woods...