Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 101: Formation Activation

When the two servants from the Kushan Sect disappeared from sight, Yan Zheng picked up a long knife from the pile of corpses. He raised it up and swiftly brought it down. Chai Xin’s head separated from his body, leaving behind a slow trickle of blood emerging from his neck. Yan Zheng grabbed the desiccated white hair of the head, holding it in his hand, and turned in the direction of the Grand Pavilion.

The eyes of Chai Xin’s severed head were half-open as filthy blood dripped onto the stone slabs. Yan Zheng, holding the head, looked about 70% similar to Yan Budu of the past, but his aura was too calm, quiet to the point of death, like a dying fire.

“Just go down the mountain,” Yan Zheng said to Yu Zikuan with his back turned, his tone unnaturally cold. “There’s no need to go out of your way to confirm. I won’t run.”

Yu Zikuan frowned but remained silent.

“In the six years we’ve known each other, when have I ever not kept my word?” Yan Zheng stopped walking but still didn’t turn around. “You and I have broken the dam with ant holes*. I have already killed all the talented individuals. This time with Chai Xin’s head, I’ll call back the elders outside the mountain, and there will be no one to stand in my way. By sunset, the Ling Sect’s main branch will be destroyed. You can just watch from outside the mountain.”

*It’s referring to the idiom the embarkment of a thousand miles collapse because of an ant’s nest (千里之堤，溃于蚁穴). It’s a metaphor referring to the importance of paying attention to detail, as ignoring small problems can eventually lead to catastrophic consequences (AKA For want of a nail).

“What about you?” Yu Zikuan finally spoke.

Yan Zheng didn’t answer directly. There was a trace of barely perceptible trembling in his voice. “There are still quite a few small sects left on the mountain that haven’t retreated. Compared to dawdling here, Warrior Yu has more important things to do.”

Chai Xin didn’t bring all his followers with him. If he called everyone back and then left alone, those people would definitely become suspicious. Besides, Chai Xin was right about one thing—for the past eight years, he couldn’t escape the blood debt that the Ling Sect had accumulated under the banner of a “Yan Family’s Descendant”.

When the Invitation to God Formation activated, he would accompany the Ling Sect’s main branch in its burial with his own strength. It was good enough when the dust settled.

“Two days ago, a scout from the Ling Sect reported that there is a small sect stationed in the southwest of Zongwu Mountain. It doesn’t interact with other sects and probably hasn’t received the news. Time is running short. I hope Warrior Yu can lead them down the mountain.”

Yu Zikuan stared at him for a while, then grunted in affirmation.

Yan Zheng used his red clothes to cover his wounds, rising into the air without bidding farewell to Yu Zikuan. Yu Zikuan stood there for a while until Yan Zheng’s figure disappeared in the fog, then he turned and left.

There were still quite a few people left in the Grand Pavilion—most of them were weaklings unfit for battle. When they saw the current Patriarch carrying the head of the former Patriarch, they all held their breath, not daring to make a sound. A few old guys who had been unhappy with Chai Xin were all smiles, and Yan Zheng could guess what they were thinking.

With Chai Xin dead and him only in his early twenties, this bunch of old guys were probably already redrawing the power dynamics in their heads.

Yan Zheng cleared his throat. “Chai Xin planned to monopolize the clues to the Shirou and purposely used the Kushan Sect to spread false news. This Seat got the upper hand, yet he tried to kill me.”

After being immersed in the demonic sect for many years, whether it was lies or bullshit, Yan Zheng could easily spew them out.

Sure enough, the hall immediately filled with cursing. In the Ling Sect, only strength was respected. “Good relations” never existed. Now that the once high and mighty Elder Chai was reduced to a head, even if he asked them to kick it around like a ball, these people would do it.

The flamboyant Elder Kong winked; his tone exceptionally joyous. “All the major sects have been led out of the mountain by that Chai Xin, leaving him as bait. What a poisonous scheme!”

“The Patriarch got the clue. With this, the Chigou Sect will surely be jealous—it’s better to call our brothers back and defend the Grand Pavilion,” someone agreed right away.

“If we retreat, won’t the other sects get suspicious?”

“Who cares, Zongwu Mountain is easy to defend and hard to attack. It’s better than wasting our strength…”

Yan Zheng sat in the Patriarch’s chair, his body hurting to the point of numbness as fresh blood continued soaking the lining of his outer robe. Chai Xin’s head tilted at his feet, while the hall was still filled with the scent of wine and laughter.

He could hardly hide the irony in his smile. “Exactly, let’s call all our brothers back. Once everyone is here, I have an important announcement. Now that Chai Xin is dead, the positions of the elders need to be reassigned.”

The hall erupted with a mix of cheers, roars, and strange laughter. Seeing the messenger leave, Yan Zheng didn’t bother to bandage his wounds. He stepped on Chai Xin’s head, picked up a jug of wine, and coldly watched the chaos below.

For the first time, the “monkeys” in front of him, who were shouting and screaming, didn’t make him feel despair.

Blood slowly drained from his body, and the noise around him blurred into one. Yan Zheng looked pale as he turned to the window of the Grand Pavilion, where light was shining through. The fog outside the pavilion hadn’t dispersed, and he could only see the oppressive silhouette of the mountain.

He wondered if Yu Zikuan had left yet.

The liquor in his throat tasted slightly bitter, and the scent of blood hung heavily around his feet. It was at this moment that Yan Zheng finally realized: Everything was about to come to an end.

What a long six years it had been.

When he found out that Chai Xin was the true mastermind, Yan Zheng had considered simpler methods of revenge. He had tried to poison him, assassinate him, and launch numerous sneak attacks. However, Chai Xin had survived in the demonic sect for far too long. The murderous intent of a fifteen-year-old boy seemed no different to him than a kitten’s scratch.

Chai Xin even praised Yan Zheng from time to time. [Not bad, you’re ambitious for power at such a young age. You really do have the makings of a member of the Ling Sect.]

Yan Zheng had tried to build his own power base, but he didn’t understand how to coerce or persuade, and every member of the Ling Sect had their quirks. He tried his utmost for half a year, but in the end, he was helpless. His enemy was within reach, yet he couldn’t kill him no matter what. Besides being a puppet leader, it seemed he had no other choice.

During this half-year, news gradually spread that “the Ling Sect now has a ‘ghost eye’ leader”. The various branches developed rapidly, and the number of people killed by the Ling Sect doubled. The originally declining Ling Sect was gradually showing signs of revival.

So, Yan Zheng thought of death.

Death was the ultimate defiance; it would shatter the Ling Sect’s signboard of “a descendant of the Yan Clan”. It was his last counterattack and his only remaining path to redemption.

On a certain day, a Ling Sect side branch took back a large area in the northwest, and the followers celebrated wildly, torturing civilians for fun in the halls. The lights in the Grand Pavilion flickered, and fresh blood stained the newly painted beams. Amid the orderly chaos, Yan Zheng sneaked into a corpse cart and quietly left.

He had to die in a noticeable place, such as the entrance to Zongwu Mountain.

But before Yan Zheng could reach his destination, an arrow pierced his shoulder without warning. In the blink of an eye, a shining sword was pointing at his throat.

“Indeed, you are the bastard of the Yan Clan.” The man’s eyes were bloodshot and full of hatred. “I’ve been following you for so long. I didn’t expect you to make it so easy.”

Recognizing the man’s Taihang Sect attire, Yan Zheng quickly realized his situation. This wasn’t so bad. If he were killed by someone from the Taihang Sect, the news would spread even faster.

Yan Zheng didn’t scream or curse. He just sat on the ground, holding his arrow wound, silent.

The man paused for a moment. “Before I take your life, I have something to ask. Is Lu Fengxi, from your sect, currently at the main branch? How long will he stay at Zongwu Mountain?”

“I can tell you, but I have a condition.”

The man sneered. “If you want to beg for mercy…”

“I hope Your Excellency will make it quick.” Yan Zheng looked at the damp ground beneath his knees. “You can do what you want with This Seat’s body. Even if you hang it at the foot of Zongwu Mountain, I won’t have any complaints.”

The man eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then sheathed his sword. “Speak.”

“Is Your Excellency Yu Zikuan, the Great Warrior of the Yu Clan? In recent years, the only Taihang-related people killed by Lu Fengxi are Mrs. He, the wife of Yu Zikuan from Taihang, and their only son, Yu Qiuwen.”

“Correct,” Yu Zikuan said hoarsely. “You are a small puppet, but you seem to know a lot.”

“Lu Fengxi is repairing weapons at the main branch and will stay for about ten days. His staff is complex, and he needs to go down the mountain personally to select materials. If you want to take action, you can wait for him to leave the mountain.”

After finishing speaking, Yan Zheng closed his eyes, showing a relieved expression.

“I’ve told you what you wanted to know; now it’s your turn to fulfill your promise.”

Yu Zikuan, an elder of Taihang, was well known for his passionate nature. After his wife and child tragically died, he caused quite a stir in the martial world. Now, Yu Zikuan seemed half-mad, with his reason mostly gone, and he wouldn’t hesitate just because Yan Zheng was young.

It seemed fate was on his side.

The man made a slight movement, his boots grinding against the dirt. However, the next moment, pain didn’t come from his neck or chest but from his scalp—Yu Zikuan grabbed his hair, forcing Yan Zheng to stand.

“I don’t know why you want to die, and I don’t care about the internal affairs of a demonic sect.” Yu Zikuan sneered. “But you, after all, possess the ghost eye of the Yan Clan. It would be a waste to just let you die.”

Yan Zheng opened his eyes, looking at him expressionlessly.

Yu Zikuan’s face turned sinister. “Kid, since you want to die, it seems you don’t like the Ling Sect very much. Since you are going to die anyway, why not let me use you first.”

“I have no value to be used.” Yan Zheng spoke softly. “As you said, I am just a puppet.”

“For a half-grown kid like you, it’s natural that you can’t fight a bunch of old lunatics. As for power tactics and people-reading skills, I’ll teach you. If we work together, it’s not impossible to bring down the Ling Sect.”

“You trust me?” Yan Zheng’s words carried a hint of sarcasm.

Yu Zikuan chuckled and took out a pill from his pocket, pushing it into Yan Zheng’s throat. “This is a blood gu* from the Gu Tower. I was planning to use it on Lu Fengxi. But now it seems that feeding it to you is more suitable.”

*Referring to gu poison. It’s a venom-based poison that involves sealing several venomous creatures inside a closed container where they devour each other and allegedly concentrate their toxins in a single survivor.

Yan Zheng obediently swallowed it. Instead of vomiting, his eyes began to brighten.

“Are you willing to teach me?” Yan Zheng grabbed Yu Zikuan’s dirty sleeve. “Are you really willing to join forces with me and destroy the Ling Sect?”

“The Ling Sect is a tumor in the martial world. Just killing Lu Fengxi would not do justice to my wife and son.”

“But I don’t trust you either,” Yan Zheng murmured. “Before the Ling Sect is destroyed, you cannot kill Lu Fengxi, okay? If you kill Lu Fengxi in advance and leave, I won’t take the antidote for the blood gu.”

“Deal.”

‘As expected, even the heavens despise the Ling Sect,’ Yan Zheng thought.

In a joint effort with Yu Zikuan, they manipulated Chai Xin’s shortsightedness, silently allowing Yan Zheng to kill potential “rivals”. Years passed, and the Ling Sect didn’t prosper as they had hoped. Instead, the brief resurgence of the last two years seemed to be its last gasp before it once again embarked on an irreversible decline.

Collaborating with those from a demonic sect was a huge taboo in Taiheng. So, Yu Zikuan faked his death and secluded himself in Zongwu Mountain while Yan Zheng personally delivered his daily necessities. He hid so well that even the Yueshui Pavilion failed to detect Yu Zikuan’s whereabouts.

At first, Yu Zikuan taught Yan Zheng the art of power and physiognomy without uttering a word beyond that.

Perhaps bored by the mountain life, Yu Zikuan started teaching him Taiheng’s breathing methods and the weaknesses in the Ling Sect’s martial arts.

Later on, perhaps out of disapproval, Yu Zikuan taught him how to tie up his hair, how to deal with the bloodshed in the demonic sect, and how to barely keep going under the weight of fate.

“If you really can’t bear it, come and talk to me. It’s not a disgrace to lean on your elders once in a while.”

“Don’t exhaust yourself with pointless thoughts. We have a good goal—to uproot the Ling Sect, which can be considered atonement.”

“…Kid, if you insist on pursuing the deaths of those who have died over the years, I should bear half the responsibility. We share the guilt, okay?”

In the end, Yu Zikuan said that.

The Grand Pavilion made Yan Zheng feel like he was walking on thin ice, but the small grass hut brought him a bit of relief. Amidst the desolate mountains and the raging fog, Yan Zheng seemed to find a trace of his peaceful childhood. The act of “living” no longer seemed to be pure pain and torment.

The abyss behind him was now fenced in, and he no longer needed to walk alone in the darkness.

Compared to their initial encounter, Yu Zikuan’s madness had faded significantly, and his overwhelming hatred had turned into a calm persistence. Thus, Yan Zheng sent Lu Fengxi to the Ghost Tomb, hoping that seeing his sworn enemy punished would make Yu Zikuan take the issue of the Ling Sect’s destruction a little lighter.

Yu Zikuan, no longer as crazy as before, should have been able to see that the Ling Sect was on its last breath and that leaving at the right time would be the best choice.

But unfortunately, those from Taiheng were stubborn to the bone. Yu Zikuan not only didn’t leave but also gave him the antidote to the blood gu without a word of complaint.

“We’re even now.” Warrior Yu clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

But the ending could still be considered perfect. Yan Zheng sighed softly. Just now, when he was talking with Yu Zikuan, as soon as he touched the care in the other’s words, his remaining weakness couldn’t be suppressed. Yan Zheng almost wavered—

He almost wanted to live.

Fortunately, deep pain had accompanied him for several years. It was just a touch of soft affection that could easily be dissipated. Yu Zikuan hadn’t tainted innocent blood and deserved to live. But he, caught in the dark vortex, had long lost that right.

The fog was dyed gray red by the setting sun. Finally, a loud explosion echoed in Yan Zheng’s ears. To say it was a loud explosion might not be accurate, for the sound bypassed his ears and directly pounded into his brain. A strange fear surged from his feet, and Yan Zheng couldn’t help but shiver.

Such power… it must be the Invitation to God Formation.

The next moment, as the formation activated, the surrounding air suddenly became sticky, pinning Yan Zheng firmly to his chair. Inside the formation, his whole body was filled with a stinging pain, accompanied by a void-like cold.

Winter had passed, but the feeling was like standing naked in the cold winter snow or being ground to dust between two millstones. His internal organs twitched, his heart pounded, and his limbs were completely unresponsive. The earth trembled slightly, causing Chai Xin’s head to roll down the stairs towards the panicked crowd.

Here were gathered the most brutal and arrogant lunatics of Great Yun. They used to treat human life like grass, but now they all kneeled on the ground, screaming inaudibly and moaning in the face of death.

Yan Zheng’s vision went black repeatedly, but the smile at the corner of his mouth got bigger and bigger.

…It’s really over now. He closed his eyes.

This was the moment he had longed for the most, but it was different from what Yan Zheng had imagined. In the end, he held a hint of nostalgia. With the destruction of the Ling Sect, that person could also untie his knots and move forward, right?

Who would have thought that the next moment, Yan Zheng felt a long-lost pain on his scalp—a pair of hands grabbed his long hair and forced him to stand up.

“That’s enough,” said the familiar voice hoarsely. “Kid, let’s run.”

At the foot of Zongwu Mountain.

The setting sun slanted westward, and all the chaotic sects were frozen in place.

The strange golden cage of the Kushan Sect was still standing, but the “birds in the cage” had become four. Apart from Shen Zhu, who didn’t want to get close to the bloodshed, four people from the Kushan Sect stood at the center of the formation. The big shots of the Ling Sect had left early, while the Chigou Sect didn’t leave many people behind. Taiheng had no intention to fight, so the scene was more like a meeting of minions.

When a variable occurred on the mountain, even fewer people were willing to approach the Kushan Sect.

The Fog Tomb Array of the Ling Sect hadn’t been removed yet, which made the strange phenomenon even more pronounced—it was as if an invisible giant creature was reaching out from the mountain; its movements like a nimble long tongue, sweeping across the vast Zongwu Mountain. Wherever people could see, all the fog was stirred into chaos. Layer upon layer of thick fog, like river tides in a storm, was forced to rise into grotesque waves.

Some people from the Ling Sect were still retreating up the mountain. Despite the short distance, everyone watched as they knelt on the ground, struggling painfully and weakly, like desperate insects trapped in a spider’s web.

Although at different speeds, the followers of the Ling Sect were all gradually withering, as if something was sucking the life out of them. Several servants had even fallen to the ground, their bodies deflated like dry corpses. Not long after, their bodies, like ice cubes in a stove, slowly shrunk and twisted, flattening and shrinking, turning into a perforated human skin rug…

Eventually disappearing into nothingness.

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Kinky Thoughts:

Me just sobbing uncontrollably in each arc. I’m glad Yan Zhang didn’t die… Did Nian Zhong finally grow a heart with these side characters?

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