Tell him to be careful, the Sacred Fire Sect is notorious for their underhanded tricks. Even the Thirteenth Ancestor was once ambushed by them.
Wen Yan lightly touched the Long Talisman, letting it crumble into ashes.
He casually tossed down a Button Locator, and looked off into the distance.
Far away, the outline of a small Earth City appeared, faint and hazy, and every now and then, he could see a flicker of dim, ghostly blue flas shimring there.
Wen Yan fixed his gaze in that direction. The flickering ghostly blue fire suddenly ca to a halt, and Wen Yan felt his hairs stand on end—he could sense it. Soone was watching him, with undisguised malice.
Wen Yan closed his eyes, focused and sensed for a while, then grinned.
"Co on, this is the Netherworld—a bunch of ghosts think they can turn things upside down?"
He set down his pack and strode toward the shadow-shrouded Earth City.
As he drew closer, he could see that on the low, dark city wall, a figure was standing. Ghostly blue flas burned in his eyes. The second the stranger spotted Wen Yan, he imdiately loosed an arrow.
The arrow struck a few ters in front of him, but the ghostly blue fire at its head burst apart on impact, splitting off into a powerful arrow that shot straight toward Wen Yan.
With a flicker, Wen Yan dodged the flas, but they seed to have a mind of their own, turning in midair to pursue him relentlessly.
Wen Yan reached out and grabbed, yang energy surging in his palm as he seized the clump of ghostly blue fire and enveloped it.
The icy chill clashed violently with his yang energy. In an instant, the ghostly blue fire was snuffed out.
He unslung the Incense Candle Ballista from his back, used Yang Fire to light the candle, and—with a bang—the thick arrow trailed scarlet fire as it slamd into the city wall.
The blasting flas scattered everywhere, instantly lighting up the area. Within more than ten ters, flas raged.
From within the roaring fire, a figure leapt out clad head to toe in pitch-black armor, ghostly blue fire raging in his eyes.
Down below, the city gates were wide open. Wraith horses galloped forth, and ghosts waving various weapons stord out—not nearly as lucky.
The flas caught them, burning and corroding their forms. One by one, they shrieked and vanished into nothingness.
Wen Yan also saw that along the city walls stood a whole row of ghosts, packed tight, and outside the city, plenty more were hauling battered earthy carts loaded high with desiccated bones.
Each of these ghosts, the instant they saw Wen Yan, instinctively grabbed for a weapon—or just grabbed a big, dried-up bone for a club.
Wen Yan took a deep breath, set his sights on the armored lost soul charging at him, casually tossed aside the Incense Candle Ballista, and activated the Scorching Sun Jade, blessing himself with yang energy.
In a flash, a flood of yang energy surged far beyond his usual limits, so intense he looked like he was set ablaze. For dozens of ters around him, all was enveloped by raging yang energy.
He knew the importance of control, sure—but fighting like this? Way more satisfying.
Instead of retreating, he charged straight in.
Yang energy swirled around him like a whirling firestorm, beginning to roar and howl.
Any ghost within forty or fifty ters of him—if even a bit weaker—would be ignited and vaporized on the spot.
That armored lost soul, blue flas engulfing his eyes and entire form, forced his way straight into Wen Yan’s radius of yang energy.
Bang—a fierce crash. Red fire clashed with ghostly blue fla, sending out bursts of wind that battered the surroundings without stop.
Wen Yan’s muscles bulged, and he unleashed his Combat Technique with full force—it was all about overwhelming power and yang energy, pressing the attack with sheer strength, no fancy tricks.
With three consecutive strikes, the enemy’s armor began to pour out black smoke.
Wen Yan glanced at the words floating above his foe’s head.
"Qu Liermu, Sacred Fire War Spirit, Flagbearer of the Sacred Fire Sect."
Ha, look at that. After running hundreds of kiloters with nothing but dust, he finally ran into sothing worth marking on the map. This little Earth City wasn’t much, but if he saw it, at least he knew he was on the right track.
The Great Uncle Masters told him to be cautious—if these guys were still alive, still in the living world, Wen Yan wouldn’t be this cocky.
But this was the Netherworld, and they were all ghosts now. He carried the Scorching Sun, his martial arts had hit the third stage. If he was still scared of these things, he’d be wasting that Scorching Sun for nothing.
Wen Yan shouted, the yang flas erupting around him as he unleashed the Subduing Tiger Three-Style Combat thod—his power rging perfectly with the yang fire at this mont.
A full-frontal clash—the instant it hit, his power and yang fire exploded, the yang flas surging like a flood, washing over and forcefully snuffing out the enemy’s ghostly blue fire.
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