Chapter 32 — First Glimpse of the World-Suppressing Spear in the Desolate City
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 3
Qianxun felt the palm wind against his face, yet it had no force behind it. He was about to focus on blocking the five spirit swords when, all of a sudden, his soul flew out of his body, sucked into Shen Mu's palm. He was so frightened his spirit scattered to the winds.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Five dull impacts sounded in quick succession. With no one to control them, the five spirit swords pierced into his body one after another, lifting him high and carrying him backward.
Thump—
The pillar at the village center, hung with the butcher shop's banner, swayed. Qianxun's corpse hung upon it, his head lolling forward, motionless.
Shen Mu's palm was still bleeding. Abruptly he clenched his fist hard; blood squelched between his fingers, and Qianxun's soul in his hand was crushed to nothing.
The Nether Demon Freedom Seal is adept at annihilating souls.
Shen Mu turned his head and smiled: "Grandmother, I won."
Granny Zhu was relieved, then flared up in a rage: "You little wretch, you've cut your hand! I'll beat you to death when we get back! And don't you dare wipe that blood on your clothes—the new ones are stained and can't be washed clean, and I'll beat you to death for that too!"
The headman's gaze was dim and profound. He looked at Mu Beilan, who sat across from him, and said: "Brother Mu, your disciple has lost. Shall we take him down, dress him in burial clothes, and put him in a coffin?"
Mu Beilan raised his head, saw Qianxun's corpse hanging from the pillar, and shook his head: "I will take his body back and give him a proper burial. As for this young friend—he clearly has deep and profound cultivation, yet he fought with demonic arts and demonic sounds. I find such base methods contemptible."
He was speaking of the move Shen Mu had used to kill Qianxun: the Nether Demon Freedom Seal. Though he had never seen such a seal technique, what came from Shen Mu's mouth was plainly a demonic sound, and so the art Shen Mu used must be a demonic art.
He could see that Shen Mu's cultivation was vast and profound—far deeper than Qianxun's—but it seemed he had not been tempered by many life-and-death trials; he was somewhat constrained, unable to fully unleash his strength.
Winning by demonic arts, to his mind, was merely a cheap trick—contemptible.
The headman's gaze flickered. He had no idea where Shen Mu had learned an art that pulled an opponent's soul from their body and refined it to death—truly a sinister skill.
In the village, the only person of orthodox demonic lineage was Granny Zhu. Had she taught Shen Mu?
The headman said softly: "Mu'er, destroying a man's soul wounds the harmony of Heaven. Use such means as little as possible."
Shen Mu nodded hurriedly.
The headman looked at Mu Beilan across from him and said: "There are still eleven coffins empty."
Mu Beilan lowered his brows: "Since the coffins and burial clothes are made, by all means let them be put to use."
The headman: "Please."
Mu Beilan rose: "Please."
The Li River Water Dragon Formation roared into motion. The ten experts of the Billowing River Sect behind him erupted with their momentum, linking as one with Mu Beilan's.
Splash—
The river rolled on, water vapor filled the air, and in the tiny Hidden Remnant Village there suddenly appeared a great river with waves crashing to the heavens!
This flowing water was, in fact, the Li River of the southern Wasteland!
Mu Beilan and the ten Billowing River Sect experts stood upon this small but surging Li River. Within the river, countless flying swords darted back and forth, flashing silver, like tiny silver fish.
The Billowing River Sect was famous for its sword arts; its swordsmanship was the pinnacle of the southern frontier. When the ten Li River experts, joined by the sect master Mu Beilan, deployed the Li River Water Dragon Formation, the number of flying swords set in motion was beyond imagining!