Chapter 129: Earth

"The Green Lotus Sword Manual is not in my possession. Why does no one believe me?" Song Chengfeng slowly walked into the dilapidated temple.

His sword was gripped tightly in his hand, and fresh, bright red blood dripped slowly from the blade onto the ground.

Drip... drip...

The expression on his face was strange—vacant and wooden, yet his speech was twisted into a grimace, as if he hungered to tear flesh and drink blood.

*Ptooey...*

He spat out a mouthful of blood, which contained not only phlegm but also a clump of purple soil.

The people inside the ruined temple stared at him with bated breath.

"Uncle Hu, what is he..." the young girl, disguised as a boy, tugged at the sleeve of the man beside her.

"Stay back," Uncle Hu said, pulling her behind him. He exchanged a sharp glance with his two companions; they all reached for their weapons and formed a defensive triangle to shield the girl.

"Junior Sister, Miss Ling, flee if you get the chance. I will hold him off," the young man said, drawing his own sword and signaling the others.

He noticed Chen Jin, another man sitting in the corner by the fire, but Chen Jin did not even lift his head, appearing completely oblivious to the threat to his life.

While Chen Jin remained unmoved, the others prepared for a desperate fight.

"You are all going to die," Song Chengfeng said, pointing his sword at everyone in the temple, including Chen Jin.

"Attack!" Uncle Hu growled. He lunged forward with a tiger-headed broadsword, aiming directly for Song Chengfeng’s right arm, intending to cripple his fighting ability in one strike.

*Clang!*

As expected, Song Chengfeng blocked the blow with his sword, the sheer force of the impact knocking him backward out of the temple.

By stumbling back, he narrowly avoided the giant axe and watermelon-shaped hammer swung by Uncle Hu’s two companions.

But his retreat was not enough. Another figure surged forward, a sword-hand strike aimed straight at the forehead of Song Chengfeng, who had fallen into the rain outside.

Song Chengfeng moved like a drunkard, toppling straight backward. Although he dodged the strike, Uncle Hu and his men swarmed him. The watermelon hammer crashed down toward his head, and the tiger-headed broadsword hacked at his sword-wielding arm.

*Splat! Crunch!*

Song Chengfeng had nowhere left to hide. His head was crushed to a pulp like a smashed melon, his right arm was severed into the air, and the axe cut his body in half.

And just like that, Song Chengfeng died.

The young man was surprised by how easily he had fallen, but the other three, indifferent, spat on the mangled corpse before heading back into the temple.

*Ah...*

Suddenly, a series of screams erupted from within the temple.

The four rushed back immediately. Since they hadn't gone far, they reached the scene in moments.

They saw that a new person had appeared in the temple—it was the very same Song Chengfeng they had just killed.

He stood there, completely unscathed, gripping the necks of two women in each hand. These women were the companions of the young man.

Though shocked to see the man they had just killed standing before them whole, they did not hesitate to raise their weapons against him.

However, Song Chengfeng was cunning; he used the two hostages as shields, forcing the attackers to hold back.

"Uncle Hu! Uncle Hu, he... he’s a monster! He grew straight out of the ground... he’s a demon!" the girl cried from a corner, trembling uncontrollably.

"Hahaha... you will all die! You are all going to die!" Song Chengfeng tightened his grip on the women’s necks.

The sickening sound of crunching bone echoed through the temple. If he continued, their necks would snap, and they would perish.

"Junior Sister!" the young man shouted, lunging forward with his sword.

*ROAR!*

A thunderous roar tore through the space, erupted from Song Chengfeng’s throat. The blast left the young man incapacitated, collapsing to the ground, twitching as blood leaked from his seven orifices.

Though not the primary targets, everyone else in the temple was left temporarily deafened by the sound.

"Too noisy," a lazy, groggy voice—as if someone had just woken from a nap—sounded in their ringing ears, resonating directly inside their minds.

Then, they saw a blur of motion. A figure leapt, soaring a man's height into the air, passing over Song Chengfeng’s head and bringing a single palm down onto his skull.

With that strike, Song Chengfeng’s manic laughter was cut short.

*Splorch...*

He collapsed into a heap of loose, wet sludge. Before their very eyes, he disintegrated, turning into a puddle of true, putrid mud.

The group finally recognized the figure: it was the beggar, Chen Jin, who had been dozing in the corner the entire time.

"Dust to dust, earth to earth. Go to your rest."

With a soft murmur, Chen Jin tossed a yellow talisman into the sludge.

*Gurgle, gurgle...*

A sound like boiling water rose from the mud, and bubbles surged to the surface as if the puddle were being cooked.

Chen Jin reached a hand into the muck and began to stir it, much like one might stir a thick, bubbling stew.

After a moment, to the onlookers' utter astonishment, Chen Jin pulled his hand back out. He held an object: a piece of purple soil—the same one Song Chengfeng had spat out earlier.

Chen Jin looked at the clump of soil with the joyful smile of a farmer witnessing a bountiful harvest.

"The rain has stopped. How convenient," Chen Jin said, shaking the mud off his hand before walking toward the temple exit.

Just as he was about to step out, he turned back to smile at the dilapidated statue of the Mountain God in the center of the temple. "Oh, right. Thanks."

"..."

The remaining survivors in the temple stared at one another in a daze.

"Uncle Hu... was that an immortal?" the girl asked, trying to stand but collapsing again as her legs gave way.

"I suppose so," Uncle Hu replied, watching the rainwater drip from the eaves, his voice no more than a whisper.