Martial King's Retired Life

Volume 11 Chapter 42 If it is Our Destiny, We Shall Meet When the Sun is Out. If it is not Our Destiny, We’ll Miss Each Other at Night. (Part 2)

Vicious beasts came out in droves just as the legends surrounding Death Spirit Shaman painted. He was so euphoric, feeling that he having everything subjected to his will that he ground his teeth as his eyes turned red.

Although Death Spirit Shaman and Gewu were both considered Great Spirit Shamans, Gewu maintained the faith’s operations as well as expanded their influence. Meanwhile, Death Spirit Shaman built the power they needed. Gewu “blessed” people from Mount Wanyu to spread their name, earning the reverence of even Kings. On the other hand, Death Spirit Shaman had to prowl around to seize authority, on top of controlling the most terrifying monster of them all, so that they could solidify their foundation in addition to expanding. They determined their roles through honest discussion and fulfilled their duties with the utmost of their abilities.

Decades later, the two achieved their goals, albeit later than they planned. Gewu’s Shaman Monarch Palace had a noose around every state’s neck, not to mention the bandits he colluded with in the underworld. Death Spirit Shaman increasingly strengthened their forces as his control over the Yanhui improved. As a result, his perception of the different treatment he received started to distort.

Death Spirit Shaman hated people ordering him around and affronting him with a vengeance. He added an offensive context to even polite or neutral requests. He bore with jealousy and discrimination for decades already; enough was enough. It was time he showed people who deserved to run Mount Wanyu. Anybody who tried to challenge him deserved to be a snack for “his” Yanhui.

Luo Ming lowered Purple Forbidden Enclosure Dragon Slayer. “It’s not my turn to kill you today. Keep your head on your shoulders for now. I’ll come for it another day.”

“Let’s see if you can back that up!” snapped Death Spirit Shaman.

“You won’t have the luxury.”

Death Spirit Shaman was still in the midst of searching for the person who just interjected when he felt a draft against his neck. Regardless of how inept he was at fighting, he was more sensitive to qi flow thanks to his old age. He chose to go back first, only to be rocked over the head. Stunned but still retaining awareness of his surroundings, he belted to send his assailant back. When one possessed internal energy as potent as Death Spirit Shaman, it was possible for them to amplify their voice with it, generating a shockwave attack.

“My senior brother taught me,” Sima Huai glided onto the Yanhui’s head, then pushed up his glasses, “you can buy pork shoulders on credit. If you’re going to beat a dog, beat it into crap. This one reactively put it into perspective. Please do pardon him if he offended you somehow.”

If staring was lethal, then the death stare Death Spirit Shaman gave Sima Huai from behind a scarlet veil would’ve killed the latter.

“Thought so. You may have accomplished something I have never heard of, but you are not that strong. If you were to face Mr. Luo one on one, you would not survive the first exchange. Elder, I recommend you quit while you are ahead.”

“Why do I need to fight anyone one on one? Are you ignorant of my abilities? I shall grant your death wish!”

A bird suddenly tweeted from overhead and descended to Sima Huai’s position.

“I do know what you are capable of.” Sima Huai practically teleported to Death Spirit Shaman’s side to tap the latter’s shoulder.

Death Spirit Shaman palmed behind him as soon as he could, only to hear a strange sound. Looking over his shoulder, he discovered he had splattered the head of the bird before, dropping it down to his pack of pets. Sima Huai, meanwhile, had returned to his original spot.

Luo Ming, who couldn’t see himself competing against Sima Huai in a qinggong contest, applauded, “Splendid ‘I Alone Am Free’. Your Shifu’s qinggong discipline chooses specific routes for moulding qi. The chances of anyone having the attributes to learn it is less than one in ten thousand. It is an honour to see a successor.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” replied Sima Huai.

Black Cleric saw the need to intervene since his superior was hurt, but the scramble wasn’t one he had any place in. “Your Eminence, we can still leave.”

Death Spirit Shaman blocked off Black Cleric’s advice. “Baidizi, eat the young one and devour the old one!”

The Yanhui accelerated its coiling speed.

Sima Huai, who had been buying time for his side, leapt back over sixty metres to get out of the beast’s range. “Everyone, your lives take priority. Take care of yourselves. Nobody is to die!”

“Roger that!”

“Motley misfits! How… How dare… Kill them all!” thundered Death Spirit Shaman.

No more coiling. The Yanhui made a beeline for the group, sparing not a second thought for environment it would inexorably decimate. Luckily for all, there was a gatekeeper - Luo Ming. Alas, he was only one man; he could stall the Yanhui at his new level and with his sword, but he couldn’t stop the army of juiced-up, ravenous wild beasts.

The beasts that were two to three times their usual size weren’t driven by hunger but commands that Death Spirit Shaman issued, adhering until they were incapacitated. This proved a struggle for martial artists who were used to fighting humans who had functioning pain systems, not to mention the overwhelming numbers that swarmed them ceaselessly.

The dozens of bloodthirsty beasts ganging up on Luo Ming as he held off the Yanhui eventually became rocks in his shoes despite him severing their limbs. If he went down, then the others could only hope running was still an option. With the passage of time, more and more beasts turned their attention to Luo Ming under Death Spirit Shaman’s orders. Luo Ming could only shave off the Yanhui’s scales because his sword hadn’t been sharpened. Though he couldn’t draw much blood from it, he did gradually wear it down.

To deal with the Yanhui’s head jabs and tail sweeps, Luo Ming had to respond with 80% of his maximum power. That alone was a daunting task, let alone simultaneously fending off the beasts. Soon enough, a mutated wolf spotted an exposed right arm. Luo Ming had to bisect the wolf with his left fingers, thereby slowing down his right arm. The Yanhui struck as soon as Luo Ming’s right arm showed a delay.

A grey shadow zoomed into the clash to plant his fist flush on the Yanhui’s head, sliding it backwards. His return shed hope on the hopeless predicament.

“Brother Bodhi, I shall leave the freak to you.”

Emperor Yuansheng looked over in the direction of the voice to see Shen Yiren weaving through their group. “Yiren? What are you doing here?”

Shen Yiren dimpled. “It is a long story, Uncle. Let us get rid of the enemy first. Ready?!”

“Ready. Just a tad to go,” Xia’er responded.

Nobody heard what the beginning of what Lian Zhuiyue muttered was. As he recited whatever it was he was reciting, though, he accordingly raised his voice until they heard, “… Troops. Form. Formation. At. The. Front. Dragon-Confinement Formation.”

Luo Ming whipped his sword in a horizontal arc across the Yanhui’s body. The reaction of the beast army validated the perceived weakening of the Yanhui, especially the snakes. Once a beast is scared and hurt, it’s just a beast.

Death Spirit Shaman clearly didn’t account for his army fleeing helter skelter. Abels unexpected power was a trifling issue if compared to the formation Lian Zhuiyue just erected. It wasn’t hard to guess the reason the formation sent a dragon-type evil into madness and stole its power.

“Fengqi shenmu?! What?!”

Black Cleric explained, “His Eminence gave it to him. He must have delivered it to them.”

“Bloody Heisinas are all brain dead!” Death Spirit Shaman thundered.

“Elder, do you still want to continue? To tell you the truth, you are not a match for our army of adepts,” Sima Huai asserted.

While it was possible to create another batch of mutated beasts, they wouldn’t remedy the situation. The Yanhui alone would lose if Abels and Luo Ming fought it together.

Cornered, Death Spirit Shaman pulled out a flute from his shirt, pupils dilated and teeth jammed together.

“Pull back.”

Death Spirit Shaman whipped his head over his shoulder. “Y-y-you…”

The woman in silver armour, appearing in a more unexplainable manner than Sima Huai’s usual style, emotionlessly stated in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “Now is not the time to fight. Don’t make me waste my breath.”

“Who are you? Please fight me!” Abels exclaimed.

Abels already left the scuffle with the Yanhui by the time his last words were audible. He found a target in her hand. It was the same punch that drove the Yanhui back, yet, this time, he bounced right back, and only stopped after a quadruple backflip in addition to another eight staggering steps on the ground. She didn’t palm strike his punch. She merely lifted her hand to catch his fist.

“It’s time to go.”

Death Spirit Shaman pulled his forces out without any semblance of resistance.

“Who are you?! Why are you here?!” Abels yelled.

The woman stepped onto the Yanhui and departed. “We will meet again.”