Chapter 137
Chapter 137: Every Inch of Land in the Mortal World is Drenched with Blood
(Part 2)
Witchcraft had vanished from this world for roughly seven hundred years. To cast witchcraft spells, one required
a mysterious vessel—such as the Five-Colored Ice Platform mentioned by Mo Qingjue—and each incantation
drained the caster's vitality to an extreme degree. Not only did witchcraft demand immense personal cultivation,
but most spells could only control a handful of targets at a time. Those who frequently wielded witchcraft often
perished prematurely, drained of their vital essence.
Ultimately, witchcraft was an evil, esoteric art demanding extreme rigor from its practitioners—a discipline
beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. It persisted only among tribes descended from ancient lineages. As time
eroded its legacy, witchcraft faded into legend.
An event like the last time, where nearly ten thousand people were simultaneously controlled by witchcraft, was
almost impossible—this, one imagines, is the origin of why witchcraft is described as “resembling both a
poisonous insect and a curse”!
Si Cang Qing walked alone through the mountain forests, following the instructions on the mechanical diagram
provided by Mo Qingjue. This journey promised grave dangers: openly, he might face an ambush by the Phoenix
Temple; secretly, Mo Qingjue might have laid traps. Yet he had to proceed, at the very least to uncover the identity
of the one who had unleashed the gu curse. Last time, had Mo Qingjue not countered with his flute, the casualties
would have been unimaginable.
As for Mo Qingjue's calculations, Si Cang Qing had his own thoughts.
Just moments ago, upon Si Cang Qing's command, An Ping and the others led their troops to await at the
mountain's base, poised to storm the slopes when the moment came. Feng Xiang, following the secret signal he
had left behind, would follow close behind.
A faint “click” echoed from ahead. In the eerily silent mountain forest, the sound felt almost heart-stopping.
Si Cang Qing instantly vanished into the branches of an ancient tree. Looking down, he indeed saw a line of men
clad in leather armor—likely a patrol passing by. Their feet seemed to carry them like the wind; they moved
swiftly yet made almost no sound.
Perched on a branch, Si Cang Qing strained his ears. When all movement ceased, he prepared to leap down. But
in that instant, a flash of crimson streaked like lightning. Instantly, he felt a tight grip around his waist.
Slowly lowering his head, Si Cang Qing’s expression remained composed, though his body, poised to jump,
froze rigid.
...A red thread snake?
It was a small snake, its slender body a vivid crimson. From this angle, its head remained hidden. The snake hadn't
bitten him, but it clamped down with relentless force, the tightness causing Si Cang Qing extreme discomfort.
His body trembled slightly in discomfort. That tiny movement seemed to startle the snake, causing its body to
jerk inward, digging itself in even deeper.
A wave of dizziness surged through his mind. Si Cang Qing closed his eyes, carefully holding his breath, not
making the slightest movement.
A saying circulated among the common folk: “Better bitten by a fanged snake than bound by a red-threaded snake.”
After all, venomous snakes like the fanged snake, whose bite was instantly fatal, were not common. However,
the red-threaded snake never bit; instead, it possessed extraordinary strength and was extremely alert, capable
of coiling around a person's waist in an instant. Faced with such a situation, ordinary people were often caught
completely off guard, left only to await death. The slightest movement would trigger it to contract violently,
embedding itself into the victim's flesh like a taut steel wire—until the person... snapped in two!
Si Cang Qing kept his eyes closed, channeling his qi to ease the suffocating pressure around his waist. His entire
body remained motionless. After circulating his qi through several cycles, he abruptly snapped his eyes open.
Invisible sword energy erupted violently from his entire being.
With a hiss, the crimson thread-snake at his waist was torn apart by the sword energy. Bloody flesh splattered
onto the ancient tree beside him, a small portion striking Si Cang Qing's face.
Blood trickled down his cheekbones, staining his clothes. Si Cang Qing wiped his face clean with a handkerchief
while channeling energy into his legs, racing swiftly up the mountain.
Having experienced the initial mishap, Si Cang Qing became even more cautious. Afterwards, his journey
proceeded smoothly; having evaded several patrols, he finally arrived outside the Phoenix Temple.
Hidden in the bushes, Si Cang Qing gazed at the distant temple, pondering how to reach it.
Mount Chaotian wasn't particularly high or dangerous, yet the Phoenix Temple was perched precariously on
the opposite cliff. Infiltrating would be extremely difficult. There was only one path leading to the Phoenix Temple.
This path was a suspended iron chain bridge. Patrols were stationed at both ends of the bridge.
Looking at the magnificent structure embedded in the cliff, Si Cang Qing was momentarily at a loss. With his
martial arts skills, breaking in wouldn't be a problem, but it would inevitably lead to the failure of this operation—
given the cunning of the person behind it all, they must have guessed his purpose here and wouldn't allow him to
destroy the Five-Colored Ice Platform. Furthermore, just looking at the tens of thousands of people controlled by
the curse that day, he knew the opponent's witchcraft was extremely powerful.
Si Cang Qing had never been exposed to witchcraft or sorcery, nor was he confident he could escape unscathed.
Taking out a celadon bottle from his waist, Si Cang Qing stared intently at the diagram on it. This diagram had
allowed him to arrive here safely without alerting anyone… meaning that for now, he could trust Mo Qingjue.
He gently pushed the bottom of the bottle with his thumb, revealing a layer of pale white crystalline powder.
Cheng Tian Bi had said this was likely the legendary disguise potion.
Now, it was time to gamble.
His slightly lowered eyelids concealed the cold glint within. Si Cang Qing was never timid; so what if it was a
trap! He dabbed the powder on his fingertips, then carefully applied it to his face, neck, and throat.
◇Cang◇Huan◇Seven◇Palaces◇
“Greetings, Young Master!”
He nodded slightly and prepared to step onto the iron chain bridge. Just then, the patrol captain suddenly blocked
his way, scrutinizing him carefully before fixing his gaze into his eyes. "Why is there blood on you,
Young Master?" he asked.
He opened his mouth and said calmly, "I encountered thieves and fought with them."
A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes. The crystal powder, applied to his Adam's apple, had produced a
stimulating sensation; it had even altered his voice. He then gave the man a cold glare, his gentle voice tinged
with arrogance, and said, "What do you mean by that? Are you suspecting something?"
The man, startled by his gaze, immediately lowered his head and stammered, "This subordinate wouldn't dare!"
Before Si Cang Qing could speak again, he bowed, returned to the ranks, and continued his patrol.
Silently surveying his surroundings, Si Cang Qing lifted one foot and lightly stepped onto the iron chain, pausing
slightly, sensing nothing amiss. Then, he walked slowly and leisurely across the chain bridge spanning the cliff.
At the end of the iron bridge lay the grand entrance to the Phoenix Temple. Above the gate tower were eight
characters in bold, flowing calligraphy: "Beneath the Heavenly God, the Phoenix Soars to Heaven."
The iron chain bridge was quite long. Si Cang Qing finally reached the gate tower. As before, the patrolling guards
saluted. He could feel the leader giving him a somewhat suspicious look. Then the man glanced at the other side
of the bridge, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and bowed to let Si Cang Qing pass before he could speak.
The previously tightly closed iron gate was flung open with a rumble.
Before his eyes came a statue of a deity over ten feet tall; this must be the Phoenix Flower Goddess they revered!
Si Cang Qing stepped into the main hall and immediately felt its grandeur and solemnity. The vast space contained
nothing but an altar and kneeling cushions.
Curved staircases were carved into the east and west walls, leading directly to the back of the statue.
If one paid attention, one could clearly see that the architectural style here had a touch of exoticism, somewhat
similar to the main residence of the Feng family in his previous life.
At this moment, Si Cang Qing was not preoccupied with such thoughts. Even though a thousand thoughts raced
through his mind, he remained calm and composed, taking leisurely steps, guided by instinct, towards the eastern
staircase.
Just then, a little boy came running down the stairs. Seeing Si Cang Qing, he smiled and said, "Brother Qiang,
are you going to see the clan leader?" Before Si Cang Qing could answer, he tilted his head and said, "I didn't see
the clan leader just now!"
Si Cang Qing simply nodded slightly. After all, he was impersonating Mo Qingjue, and to avoid making a mistake,
he tried to speak as little as possible.
"Ah," the child exclaimed softly, then ran off, her voice fading into the distance, "Brother Qiang, Xiao Ruan
has urgent business to attend to, I'll talk to you later..."
Si Cang Qing stood still, his brow slightly furrowed—this trip had gone much more smoothly than he had
imagined. Was it Mo Qingjue's secret assistance, or a trap?
Thinking this, he went upstairs again.
At the top of the stairs was an open door. Inside was another spacious hall, more lively than the main hall below,
furnished with some simple furniture. Si Cang Qing stood at the entrance, scanning the contents. In the center of
the hall stood a transparent, low, pentagonal object, faintly emitting a soft, iridescent light.
A five-colored ice platform! He immediately came to this conclusion. But his feet remained rooted to the spot.
Si Cang Qing knew that stepping inside would likely be a life-or-death struggle!
Staring at the transparent platform, he heard the prayers of those who had come to worship below. Si Cang Qing
lifted his foot and finally stepped through the gate, heading straight for the five-colored ice platform.
Standing a few feet away from the platform, he silently observed it. He remembered Mo Qingjue's words:
destroying the five-colored ice platform would render that person largely harmless.
But how to destroy it?
Si Cang Qing pondered this as he circled the platform, carefully searching for anything unusual. The five-colored
ice platform… was it because it emitted five-colored light? A faint, almost invisible glow radiated from its five
pointed corners. Aside from this, the platform itself was unremarkable.
Therefore, the key to destroying it lay in these five glowing corners.
Si Cang Qing took two steps forward, looking down at the platform, a plan forming in his mind—even if these
five corners were key, it didn't mean the platform could be destroyed easily. Even the simplest method was to
destroy the glowing corners; there was definitely a sequence to the process. One wrong step, and the
consequences...would be unimaginable.
Having come this far, whether it was a conspiracy or a trap, he had to try.
Gathering true energy in his palm, Si Cang Qing suddenly swung his hand, his palm flashing, swiftly striking
simultaneously at the five corners of the ice platform. The instant his palm energy collided with the five-colored
ice platform, he could feel the entire hall shake. The light from the five corners suddenly intensified, like pillars
of light shooting into the sky, while the ice platform was violently propelled into the air, rapidly spinning.
Unable to maintain his balance, Si Cang Qing was pulled forward by a powerful force before he could react.
The colorful light was blinding; he could only hear a loud bang in his ear before his body was violently pulled
backward, his back slamming heavily against something cold.
His vision went black.
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