Chapter 117: The Virtuous Sound Wave and the Savage Swarm of Insects

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Before long, a man in a white robe, with a jade-green bamboo flute tucked behind his back and a purple-gold longsword at his waist, galloped swiftly down from the summit of the western mountain. With a single stride, he covered several dozen paces. Even before reaching the camp, his personal guards lined up respectfully to welcome him, escorting him straight into the central command tent.

“Heh heh, Marshal Pilu, what brings you to summon me, Feng Wind?” the man said with a crisp smile.

“Haha, Daoist Xiao Ling, I have encountered a difficult problem recently and need your assistance. Surely you won’t let our great army return without success?” the marshal replied.

“Oh? Marshal Pilu commands two hundred thousand elite troops and faces Marshal Xile to the north and south, yet the Northern Court Prefecture remains unconquered for so long. Surely you don’t expect me to single-handedly storm the city and hand it over?” Feng Wind responded with a wry smile.

“Heh heh, Daoist Xiao Ling, you jest. I would never make such an impolite request. But recently, an extremely powerful swordsman has appeared from somewhere. First, he infiltrated our camp, which led to a night raid by the imperial cavalry, who plundered our supplies and water sources. Then he single-handedly obstructed our army’s requisition of provisions in the southern region, causing me sleepless nights. Hence, I wish to ask you to take action and slay him to relieve our army’s crisis.”

“Oh? Such a formidable foe? I haven’t heard of any martial experts heading northwest recently, but if that’s the case, I shall make a trip and bring him in for interrogation, Marshal.”

The white-robed man’s eyebrows lifted slightly, finally showing a trace of interest.

“Haha, then I am indebted to you, Daoist. I am truly grateful.”

With a respectful bow, he watched as the white-robed man sped southward at a pace several times faster than the swiftest flying cavalry.

Three hours later, Han Chong stood atop a mountain peak, gazing northward. Since yesterday, after he had slain a top-tier Celestial Realm warrior of the Pilu army within three moves and killed dozens of enemy soldiers, no other strong warriors from Pilu had appeared today.

Could it be that the Pilu troops had lost their nerve and dared not emerge from their camp?

Suddenly, Han Chong’s eyes narrowed. He saw a white-robed man striding swiftly toward him, moving even faster than himself!

By right, his own physical speed and agility had reached the pinnacle of the Celestial Transformation Realm; this man was certainly not of that realm, but likely a practitioner at the Divine Return stage.

Judging by his age—no more than forty—and the cold, sharp gaze he wore, this was a young expert newly appearing in the northwest, and clearly an enemy, not a friend.

The white-robed man stopped about thirty feet in front of Han Chong, appraising him with a light laugh.

“You must be the black-clad swordsman who slew thousands of the Pilu army. Truly extraordinary. I am Feng Yuxiao. May I ask your name?”

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“Heh heh, a chance encounter. Why do you ask, Brother Feng? Judging from your attire, you must be from the Great Feng Dynasty. Why aid the enemy? If you intend to kill me, then strike.”

The latter smiled coldly, flicking out his tongue, which shimmered an eerie bluish-green, resembling a lizard’s!

He drew the jade-green flute from behind his waist and held it before his chest. A chilling, mournful melody began to play.

Han Chong’s heart tightened. This fiend was a sonic wave demon cultivator!

In the northwest desert, it was forbidden to lightly use refined energy or demonic power, but this flute’s sound pierced directly into the mind, intangible and formless, transcending the physical.

Han Chong felt as if the melody transformed into thousands of demonic insects burrowing into his brain. Covering his ears was futile.

Dizziness seized him, his head stung as if pricked by countless needles!

Sensing this, the power of his meritorious virtue surged through his body into his head, golden light erupting to shield him from the demonic sound.

“Eh?” The white-robed man’s expression turned puzzled. He hadn’t expected this youth to harbor such sacred power internally, able to protect himself and block his most treasured sonic assault.

The flute’s melody continued relentlessly. The white-robed man’s gaze grew colder. Raising the jade flute horizontally, he pointed it at Han Chong. From the tip of the flute, countless invisible flying needles shot out in a continuous stream.

The sound wave took shape!

Han Chong’s pupils contracted. Though his sacred power was of no use against intangible sound waves, whether it could deflect these sharp needles was uncertain. He sought to dodge swiftly.

Yet the attacker shadowed him like a ghost; the flute’s mouth remained aimed at him, the sonic needles sweeping past.

Annoyed, Han Chong’s eyes rounded. His sacred eyes lit up, beams of golden light countering the assault. But the needles were as fine as cow hairs, difficult to strike, and some were about to pierce him.

Thinking quickly, Han Chong mimicked the operation of his sacred eyes, channeling his meritorious power to his mouth. With a sudden exhale, rings of golden light radiated outward, shaking the air and producing echoes.

Not only did this scatter the countless needles, but it also interrupted the white-robed man’s flute playing. The latter’s eyes reddened, blood trickling from his mouth. The sonic power backfired, inflicting severe internal injuries.

Han Chong was equally surprised; he had never imagined his meritorious power could produce sound!

Filled with renewed vigor, he gathered another mouthful of meritorious power and expelled it again. This time, the golden rings were thicker and faster, forcing the white-robed man to bleed from all orifices as he tumbled to the ground.

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“Damn brat, you’re courting death!”

With a furious roar, the white-robed man erupted in anger, springing to his feet and drawing his purple-gold treasured sword. Stomping the ground, he lunged at Han Chong with a flurry of thrusts.

Han Chong met the attack with his dark black heavenly sword, feeling the tremendous force behind each strike—unbelievably powerful and swift as lightning. He could only defend, unable to retaliate.

Demons typically favored physical cultivation and rarely wielded swords like humans, but this fiend was an exception.

Han Chong dared not use excessive strength. He fought defensively while channeling his meritorious power to emit bursts of energy, causing the attacker to reel, dizzy and nauseous.

After several exchanges, the white-robed man no longer retained his earlier refined demeanor. His hair was disheveled, his face smeared with blood, and his white robe tattered and stained.

Yet, being pressured by a mere youth not yet at the Divine Return stage drove him mad. He bellowed like an ancient beast.

His body rapidly swelled until he stood as a towering armored monster, seven yards tall including three sharp horns atop his head.

With a single step, the earth trembled and mountains quaked. As he charged, a foul wind howled. Han Chong appeared as tiny as an ant beneath his massive claw, which crashed down like a building.

No contest—this was the fiend’s true form, his strength multiplied tenfold. Han Chong dared not block it head-on.

He fled desperately westward, activating his divine movement technique. Only then could he barely stay ahead of the monster.

But anxiety gnawed at him. He had already unleashed refined energy techniques, yet he did not know what desert aberrations this would attract.

Within less than ten breaths, the first strange insect appeared—a black wasp-like creature two fingers long detecting Han Chong’s trail.

More and more black wasps swarmed from all directions, along with gigantic blood-red flying ants, multicolored flying centipedes, and winged serpents.

Han Chong grimaced in horror. No wonder they called it the desert insect tide—most of these creatures excelled at flight. If they only walked on the ground, they would be far less terrifying.

Even the fierce demon pursuing him appeared alarmed, shouting:

“Damn brat, quickly stop using your magic, or we’ll all be gnawed to nothing by this insect tide!”