Chapter 93 Ghost Market
He Zhan snorted coldly, and struck out from all directions with the spiritual blade in his hand.
In front of Ning Fusang, the majestic spiritual power condensed into a light cyan barrier. With a wave of her sleeves, the barrier suddenly turned into countless fragments, disintegrating He Zhan's spiritual blade attack.
The long sword suddenly thrust out, bringing forth bursts of sword wind.
The Dan leaves that filled the sky were crushed into powder by the sword energy. He Qu looked at his father worriedly. He Zhan had a solemn look on his face, raised the flower in his right hand, and pushed out a three-foot-high black palm print.
The palm print exudes an evil aura, which makes people very uncomfortable.
Ning Fusang's eyes gradually darkened, but her heart was not too troubled. Most casual cultivators will practice magic techniques.
Because the orthodox Taoist techniques are controlled by major sects, unless you become a disciple of a sect, you have no chance to come into contact with these techniques.
But the inheritance of magic is scattered all over the world. As long as you meet it, you can learn it. There is no threshold. When casual cultivators enter Taoism, they usually accidentally discover some demonic inheritance and agree to the other party's request in order to obtain the technique.
Most demonic monks are cruel and bloodthirsty, so their request is nothing more than asking the inheritor to kill a certain number of mortals and bring them to the inheritance site.
There are also some demon cultivators who had sworn enemies during their lifetimes and could no longer take revenge, so they asked the inheritors to make a blood oath to seek revenge on their sworn enemies after practicing their own skills. If the old enemy is dead, he seeks revenge on his descendants.
Therefore, the demonic cultivators fight with each other, and they are a piece of loose sand that can never be twisted into a rope. Naturally, they are suppressed by the righteous path. They can only survive in the cracks where the righteous forces cannot take care of them.
Of course, basically the righteous sects would not go to great lengths to send people to exterminate these demonic forces.
Demon monks are scattered all over the world, and there are endless traps. Sect disciples also have to walk around the world. If there is no living space left for the demon cultivators, these sect disciples walking in the world may never return.
Over time, no disciples dared to go down the mountain to practice.
He Qu felt a little more at ease when he saw his father performing the Black Mountain Hand Seal. This is my father's unique trick. It is extremely domineering. No one in the same realm has ever survived this trick.
The black palm print was as towering as a mountain and crashed towards Ning Fusang. She held the sword in both hands and slashed down, shouting: "Broken!"
Wind blew from all sides, and the sword energy was like a rainbow, ruthlessly tearing apart the black mountain shadow.
He Zhan staggered back a few steps. The weakened sword energy was approaching his face. He pressed his middle finger with his thumb and pressed it in front of him, forming a spiritual armor.
The sword energy hit the armor and spread around, causing only a gentle wind.
He Zhan breathed a sigh of relief. At this moment, his spiritual armor suddenly melted away, and a long sword was thrust out from his Dantian.
Blood is pouring out and gushing out like a spring.
"Dad!" He Qu cried in tears, got up and ran over.
He Zhan held the tip of the sword with his bare hands and shouted to her: "Stop!"
In a blink of an eye, He Zhan had realized all this. It's a spirit-breaking needle! Only the third-level spirit-breaking needle can instantly break through the spiritual power armor of a third-level monk.
It was because he was careless. He spent the whole day hunting geese, but got pecked in the eye by the geese. He Zhan did not expect that the girl had such a thing as a spirit-breaking needle.
"Dad..." He Qu froze and cried.
She looked back frequently, feeling anxious.
"Why hasn't Brother Rongshan come back? Dad was hit by a sword, and I'm only a first-level monk, so I can't help at all."
He Qu prayed in her heart that Rongshan could come back as soon as possible. At the same time, she twisted a talisman with the hand hidden behind her back and recited the spell silently. The thunder sounded and the fire spirit started. Listen to me perform it——
"hack!"
After the last word fell, He Qu's eyes were bright, and he threw out the third-level talisman, the thunder and fire talisman!
The moment the light of the talisman flashed, Ning Fusang drew out her long sword, rolled up the talisman and stirred it up. The bright yellow talisman paper scattered in all directions like fallen leaves.
He Qu was stunned, how could there be such a fast sword!
Boom!
The remaining power of the spiritual talisman still took effect. The sky rumbled, and three fire thunder struck down towards Ning Fusang. She raised her sword and slashed, causing fire to scatter and the surrounding trees to fall down one after another. The forest fire spread for dozens of miles.
At this time, a dark shadow flashed out of the firelight, and his eyes were full of strange colors.
"Brother Rongshan!"
He Qu saw the savior and shouted loudly.
The young man looked for the sound, his pupils trembled, and he asked hoarsely: "Master, is he injured? Was it the girl who did it?"
"I will avenge Master!"
Rongshan's face was full of anger, and he immediately used his magical weapon and wanted to get into the fire and thunder formation. He Zhan called him out: "Come back! Don't act out of emotion."
"You can't kill her."
He even fell into trouble. What use could a second-level Rongshan have? He Zhan could see the situation clearly.
He Qu covered He Zhan's wound, her hands full of blood. She said bitterly: "Yes, Brother Rongshan, we can't defeat her. The only third-level thunder and fire talisman was also used by me. The top priority is to find a doctor." Xiu, heal dad’s injuries.”
Rong Shan glanced into the firelight, gritted his teeth and nodded, put away the magic weapon, supported He Zhan and left the place.
*
Three days later.
The originally beautiful danxia-colored mountains and forests have become smoky. Under the lightning strike, a white figure slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air and opened his eyes.
Ning Fusang brushed the gray smoke from his clothes and stood up. This dress was ruined again.
The cuffs and skirts were all burned out by sparks, and there were thousands of holes in them. Even if you use the dust purification technique to sweep away the stains on your clothes, the holes will still be there.
Ning Fusang put on the clothes prepared in her storage bag. She twirled her palm slightly, and a burst of spiritual power rolled up the fly ash, turning it into a gray-white cloak and falling into her palm.
Before coming, Ning Fusang inquired about it. There was a market nearby, which was only open on the fifteenth day of every month. It was also called a ghost market.
The ghost market is a mixed bag, very chaotic and disorderly, with casual cultivators, demon cultivators, and even ghost cultivators gathered. Sect disciples like Ning Fusang are not welcome.
So put on a disguise and keep a low profile.
Ning Fusang did not walk with a sword, but used a lightning talisman. She stood on the top of a barren mountain and looked into the distance.
The black mountains are entrenched like a fierce dragon. Occasionally, you can see white things exposed, which are human bones.
The clouds cover the moon, and the ghost market is open.
A gloomy and cold breath spread, and the howling wind blew Ning Fusang's cloak, making a hunting sound.
One after another, monks rushed to the ghost market.
Ning Fusang jumped down the hill and naturally blended into the crowd. When passing by the entrance of the village, she raised her eyes slightly and saw a few vague words engraved on the rotten wooden plaque.
It seems to be the Moon Festival Village.
On both sides of the half-foot-wide wooden door, sheep heads and various animal bones and skins were hung. The strong smell of blood hit your nostrils.
Ning Fusang had just walked a few steps when she stepped on the paper money used to worship the dead. She pressed her palm down, and a small whirlwind swept away the bright yellow round paper stuck to the sole of her shoe.
Looking around, the houses here are all made of mud, with broken walls and weather-beaten walls. Various flags were hung high.
Unlike ordinary markets, the vendors here do not hawk. Even if there is a transaction, the conversation is through sound transmission, so the entire ghost market is completely silent.
(End of chapter)