Chapter 135: Chapter 121: Bloodbath at the Mountain God Temple

Inside the guest room, Du Chengfeng was still reading the newly issued scriptures.

Although they were called scriptures, they were more like illustrated books. Unlike the earlier scrolls that were full of awkward praises for the "Taiyin Emperor," these new scrolls were quite down-to-earth. The little stories inside were all classics, like events happening nearby, and the content was extremely thrilling. Many unspeakable and unbroadcastable things were written in them.

The key point is, there are pictures in these scriptures.

"Wow! These illustrations! Hah!"

Looking at the illustrations in the book of fierce ghosts resembling Vajra warriors, Du Chengfeng couldn’t help but get more engrossed.

At that moment, in the light of the lamp, Du Chengfeng suddenly noticed a mosquito had landed on the spread-out scripture on the ground.

Du Chengfeng immediately felt as if facing a great enemy.

Although he now had some self-awareness, knowing that his combat ability had improved significantly—if it were a person, he was confident he could fight most people—against a creature like a mosquito... Could his speed really surpass the mosquito’s sensitivity?

He didn’t know, really had no idea.

But he wanted to try.

"Bang!"

In just a moment, the mosquito that was on the scripture was pinned to the ground.

And in doing all this, Du Chengfeng used just one finger.

"Got it!"

Seeing the mosquito corpse at his fingertip, a sense of achievement rose in Du Chengfeng’s heart.

He had defeated the flying insect in speed and reaction!

"This is the result of cultivation... Huh?"

Just as Du Chengfeng was about to commemorate this important day, he suddenly heard a commotion outside the door.

Immediately afterward, someone outside began to wail in mourning.

"Master is dead!"

"...Huh?"

Inside, Du Chengfeng hadn’t quite reacted to what was going on. He even thought it was Cui Yuan, acting out again—though the voice didn’t seem like his; it sounded more like strangers outside.

Just when Du Chengfeng wanted to go out and take a look, a group of young cultivators wielding magical swords burst in through the door.

"In the dead of night, what are you all doing here?"

Du Chengfeng scratched his head in confusion.

"Oh, I understand, you must have come to see my great halberd, right? Hey, how did you know I got this treasure? To be honest, it was just luck... Huh?"

Halfway through speaking, Du Chengfeng suddenly realized something was off.

It’s because the swords these young cultivators were holding were still dripping with blood.

"Return my master’s life!"

When enemies meet, their eyes blaze with hatred. The group of young cultivators, without saying a word, brandished their swords and charged at Du Chengfeng.

However, the long halberd was faster than them.

Just like a mosquito bite, the long halberd lightly slid around the necks of these young cultivators, causing more than ten heads to fall to the ground.

"See, it’s quite powerful, isn’t it?"

Even as he said this, Du Chengfeng knew these bewildering people could no longer respond to him.

He kicked the blocking corpses to the side and stepped out of the guest room. At this moment, he knew something must have happened here—having used self-defense against five consecutive waves of sword-wielding young cultivators, he then opened the door to the adjacent guest room.

The stench of blood hit him in the face, nauseatingly pungent.

In all fairness, Du Chengfeng had no particular bond with these refugees from Yanzhou, but even if they didn’t know each other, they had traveled from Yanzhou together—now, a hundred or so of them had mysteriously died inside Ziyang Mountain.

"So, it seems you really wanted to see the great halberd."

With a swing of the giant halberd, another seven or eight heads fell.

As he swung his halberd, Du Chengfeng also let out a whistle, and thus a group of over three hundred swiftly occupied a passageway, sealing the mountain gate. The two gatekeeping kids from Ziyang Mountain were unexpectedly back at their old posts.

Some of the young cultivators, fueled by hot-blooded zeal, charged forward with their magical swords. The golden-armored deities behind them also raised their longswords and axes, intending to cut down the two gatekeepers—but they didn’t even try to dodge, simply lifted a jar of wine each, and smashed them onto the heads of the young cultivators.

This attack certainly couldn’t stop these young cultivators. The golden-armored deities easily shattered the airborne wine jars with a casual swing of their weapons.

The two gatekeepers then tossed something else over—but this time, it wasn’t wine jars, but firebrands.

"Boom—"

Several young cultivators, drenched in wine, instantly caught fire, emanating the scent of roasted meat.

"Hmm? Is it done?"

The drunken Liu Bolun groped around.

"Wait, where’s my wine?"

"You guys..."

Seeing this path was blocked, the remaining young cultivators turned and fled with their magical swords.

Returning was impossible— the great halberd was just too terrifying. They couldn’t exit through the mountain gate either; heaven knows why those gatekeeping boys managed to kill even skilled cultivators like them—but as long as they fled into the mountains, they might survive.

Yet even on the path into the mountains, there was a man with a scarred face, holding a broken sword, standing there mumbling something.

But what the man held in his hand was, shockingly, a broken sword.

"That’s it?"

The young cultivators couldn’t help but sneer, raising their swords to chop this mumbling idiot into mincemeat.

It was precisely at this moment that the broken sword pointed in their direction.

Simultaneously, these young cultivators suddenly felt their strength rapidly draining away.

It felt like all their strength was leaking out from their chest.

"What... when?"

When the young cultivators looked down, they discovered a pin-sized hole had appeared at their chests without them knowing.

Just a single hole, yet it had precisely pierced their hearts.

Clearly, it was just a broken sword—how did it manage to stab them all to death in an instant?

It didn’t even have a tip...

"So that’s how it is! That’s it!"

With their bodies crumbling to the ground, Cui Yuan raised his head.

"That’s it! This is the true sword!"

As Cui Yuan shouted excitedly, the axe thrown by Carpenter Li broke the leg of the last young cultivator trying to escape.

Thus, in less than a quarter-hour, nearly all the cultivators in the Taiyin Mountain God Temple were massacred.

"So what on earth is going on here?"

Du Chengfeng scratched his head in confusion, not understanding what happened.

Wasn’t there talk of recruiting people to cultivate immortality earlier? Why did the cultivators here suddenly start killing people?

"Here’s one still alive!"

The cavalry general Zhi’er Huo directly dragged the last young cultivator over, throwing him in front of Du Chengfeng.

"How about we ask him?"

"Is this still alive? His neck’s broken."

Seeing this supposed last living person, Du Chengfeng shook his head.

Carpenter Li might not have intended to kill, but with his broken leg, the young cultivator stumbled somewhere and broke his own neck.

The last living person also died, turning the case completely into a headless investigation. No one knew how this massacre suddenly occurred, or how so many people died all of a sudden.

Du Chengfeng had thought the mountain was a nice place to live and planned to stay a few more days. How did they all end up dead?

"What do we do now?"

The group gathered and began discussing how to handle the current situation.

"Should we throw the bodies into the mountain?"

"...No."

Du Chengfeng thought for a moment and slowly shook his head.

"Why should we throw them into the mountain? We’re the victims, aren’t we?"

As the victims of a murder case, he naturally chose to report it to the authorities.