Chapter 161: The Array of Chain Linkage

Deep in the night, mournful cries of ghosts and howls of wolves echoed through the air, accompanied by dancing phantom shadows.

The wind tonight truly felt a bit clamorous.

Unable to withstand the fierce wailing of the gale, the trees could only sway and bend at their waists, putting on a pretentious display to frighten others.

Yet, there was no one here to be frightened.

Chen Jin was not asleep at this moment. His body was seated cross-legged atop the canopy of a pine tree beside the campsite. The canopy was sparse, yet it managed to support Chen Jin's slender frame.

Imbibing the vital essence of heaven and earth, and comprehending the vastness of the primordial breath, Chen Jin sat in silent meditation with his eyes closed, conserving his energy and sharpening his focus.

It was already the dead of night, and morning dew had begun to blanket the mountain forest. Chen Jin did not use his true essence to ward off the moisture, leaving his wide Daoist robe thoroughly soaked through. His long, tied-up hair was similarly dampened and clumped together.

"You certainly have a lot of patience," Chen Jin murmured, fixing his gaze on the wooden cabin within the camp.

Though his gaze was not blazing, it was pitch-black and piercingly profound. An ordinary person catching a glimpse of it might feel as though their soul were about to be drawn right in.

"No matter, I can afford to play the long game."

Chen Jin slowly closed his eyes.

Indeed, Chen Jin could afford to wait, and the longer it dragged on, the more advantageous it would be for him—or rather, for Wei Sangzi. The medicinal concoction Chen Jin had brewed through his spells was gradually helping Wei Sangzi reclaim the vital essence of body, breath, and spirit that had been siphoned away by another. This was a process of mutual depletion, where one waxed as the other waned.

Eventually, that fellow might even find himself completely consumed by the backlash. Everything depended on whether that entity could accurately assess the current situation.

Even a great bird has its late flights, and an old horse can stumble; how much more so for mortals?

Gradually, the hour shifted toward early morning. A faint trace of dawn appeared at the edge of the sky, though the sun had yet to rise.

Chen Jin did not relax his vigilance by even the slightest fraction. Although an entire night had passed, this ordeal was far from over, meaning his heart remained completely guarded.

Whoosh...

A gust of wind swept in, lunging directly at Chen Jin's face. Despite his constant readiness, this seemingly delicate breeze managed to catch him off guard, sending him tumbling through the air in a backward somersault.

Rumble...

Chen Jin's reaction was naturally swift. In an instant, he summoned a ball of fire, hurtling it straight toward the path of the wind. The collision instantly shattered the gust into nothingness—a minor miracle in its own right.

However, Chen Jin felt no sense of relief, for he noticed a large patch of his arm had turned bruised and cyan, with wisps of black qi slithering along his meridians toward his torso, attempting to corrupt and infiltrate his body.

Without hesitation, Chen Jin raised his other hand, baring his sharp fingernails, and slashed across his own arm.

With that single slash, a bloody gash immediately appeared on Chen Jin's arm, instantly oozing pitch-black blood.

Bang...

Chen Jin summoned another large fireball, its scorching flames instantly engulfing the dark blood and vaporizing it in a fraction of a second.

Once the black blood within his arm was completely purged, the gash on his skin healed instantly—a feat entirely owed to Chen Jin's formidable physical constitution rather than any spell.

*Invisible?* Chen Jin's gaze swept across the surroundings, yet he could not spot any bizarre or eerie entities. The area was deathly quiet, as if the gale from a moment ago had never existed.

Chen Jin narrowed his eyes, his spiritual sense spreading out to scour a three-li radius across heaven and earth.

*Found you!*

Swish...

Riding the faint morning light, a beam of pristine, translucent azure radiance shot out from Chen Jin's hand, heading straight for one of the wooden cabins in the camp—the very cabin assigned to Chen Jin and Xiao Mao.

The streak of light streaked across the air, cutting through the void. It was Chen Jin's Tiger-Tooth Flying Sword.

The brilliant white light spilled across the ground, dazzling to the eyes and unsettling to the mind.

Pop... A sound rang out, resembling a bursting bubble.

Something had shattered.

Swish...

A thin white thread pierced through the wooden cabin, shooting straight toward the center of Chen Jin's chest.

Clang!

Like the tolling of a bell, the white thread stopped an inch away from Chen Jin's chest, halted by an invisible barrier of power.

Chen Jin abruptly stood up, leaped lightly, and kicked his feet twice. He rose directly into the air, then lightly trod upon the white thread as he advanced toward the cabin. In just three blinks of an eye, Chen Jin had crossed the thread and arrived right before the wooden structure.

With a fierce kick, Chen Jin struck the wall of the cabin. The entire structure was instantly overturned by the force of his blow, collapsing into a pile of scattered timber.

A cacophony of cracking and splintering noises echoed throughout the camp.

Yet none of the people within the camp were awakened by the mountain-like roar of the collapse. Having been subjected to a slumber spell, they were locked in deep sleep and completely oblivious to the explosions ringing out around them.

Xiao Mao, who shared a cabin with Chen Jin, was no exception—or so it should have been. But within the ruins of the cabin, where only the floorboards remained, Xiao Mao—who ought to have been fast asleep on the ground—was wide awake. He knelt on one knee, using his fingers to grip the Tiger-Tooth Flying Sword Chen Jin had unleashed.

Drip, drop...

At the cost of having one of his fingers sliced off, Xiao Mao had managed to intercept and control Chen Jin's flying sword. Blood dripped from his hand, while his severed finger had been completely pulverized into nothingness by the sword qi, leaving behind only an uneven, bleeding wound.

"Clever brat," Chen Jin said, his gaze sharpening as he stared at Xiao Mao.

"I'm not all that young anymore," Xiao Mao replied with a grin. His voice no longer carried the awkward pitch of a boy going through puberty; instead, it was deeply mature—ripe as a fully cooked egg, heavy with the weight of passing ages.

"You really did ally with that fellow." Chen Jin glanced sideways at the wooden cabin not far away, which was shrouded in a pall of grey mist—the cabin belonging to Lu Dongbin and Wei Sangzi.

"It's all karma. He has his karma, and I have mine. It is as simple as that." Xiao Mao slowly stood up, flicking the Tiger-Tooth Flying Sword that was still struggling fiercely in his grasp.

With that single flick, the flying sword instantly grew still.

"Hearing the word 'karma' makes me want to vomit every single time," Chen Jin remarked.

In truth, this wasn't purely Chen Jin's own sentiment, but rather the instinctive aversion of the physical vessel he currently inhabited, likely stemming from the Buddhist relic residing within his body.

"Wind and clouds converge, rain and moisture spread—this is the Dragon-Summoning Formation. Are you aware of it?" 'Xiao Mao' stated calmly.

Following his gaze, Chen Jin looked up at the sky.

The faint glimmer of dawn had vanished. Looking up, the entire sky was now choked with rolling dark clouds, utterly devoid of any pure light. It was the omen of an impending tempest.

Though Chen Jin's eyes were fixed on the sky, his spiritual sense remained dispersed in all directions, enveloping the entire encampment. He had never lowered his guard against the entity possessing 'Xiao Mao'.

"What does the Dragon-Summoning Formation summon?" Chen Jin asked slowly, in no particular hurry.

Although the haze outside the cabin of Lu Dongbin and his companion grew denser by the moment, Chen Jin's spiritual sense could still pierce through the gloom. He could sense that everything inside was still relatively normal, and though he could feel that entity stirring restlessly, it had not yet made a move. Only the creature before his eyes dared to appear so audaciously.

"It summons souls—the souls of the Eight Legions of Heavenly Dragons," 'Xiao Mao' said with a smile.

Roar...

As if echoing the context of 'Xiao Mao's' words, a long, drawn-out dragon roar resonated across the heavens.