“Roar!”
A low growl echoed as towering waves surged on the river’s surface, crashing toward them in layers.
At the riverbed, Lu Zheng, holding the Water-Repelling Technique, remained calm. The wave, lacking any spiritual energy, posed no threat to him.
Guangyue, meanwhile, thrust his staff forward, piercing the wave and breaking through.
“Roar!”
A middle-aged man in black stood on the water nearby, casually waving his hand, condensing the river into water arrows that shot toward Lu Zheng and Guangyue.
Lu Zheng dismissed the Water-Repelling Technique, riding the waves, dodging arrows while charging at the man.
Guangyue, enveloped in golden Buddhist light, didn’t dodge. The arrows met his light, turning back into water and splashing to the ground.
“Hm?”
Lu Zheng had just cast an illusion to distract the enemy, aiming to sneak in with his true body, but he noticed the area was filled with water mist laced with faint demonic energy.
The enemy had set up a detection net.
His illusion failed!
“Damn it, this world’s getting too tough!” Lu Zheng grumbled, drawing his Embroidered Spring Blade from behind.
With a tiger’s roar, the blade’s light sliced through, cleaving the water arrows ahead.
“Taoist brother, be content. Your illusion technique is strong. If one’s not careful, even those stronger than you would suffer a loss,” Guangyue said. “Gaining the slightest edge in a fight increases your odds by thirty percent!”
Guangyue blocked the arrows with his Buddhist light, then leaped into the air, swinging his staff. A golden beam shot from its tip, aiming for the false River God.
Under the Buddhist light, the mist dissolved, and the demonic energy retreated.
The false River God, struck by the light, paled and sank into the river in an instant.
“Roar!”
The next moment, a foot-wide tail lashed out from the water, whipping toward Guangyue.
“Bang!”
Though unharmed, Guangyue, mid-air with no leverage, was sent flying by the tail’s force.
But Lu Zheng seized the chance, closing in on the false River God.
“Showing your true form? Pitch-black, four legs, short horns—you’re a black jiao?”
“Come die!”
The black jiao’s gaping maw lunged at Lu Zheng.
Unless one was a body-refining warrior, a single bite through defenses meant certain death.
“Hit!”
Lu Zheng flicked his hand, sending ten Frost Condensation Talismans flying.
“Ao—”
The black jiao felt a chill in its mouth, icy energy surging through its body. It shrank, trying to dive back into the water.
But Guangyue was already there.
“Amitabha!”
A swastika symbol glowed in his palm, then flew out, imprinting on the jiao’s forehead.
Able to match Lu Zheng’s Mountain-Bearing Eighteen Forms without falling behind, Guangyue’s technique was no weak feat.
The swastika pressed down, making the jiao feel as if a mountain crushed its head. It sank, aiming to retreat into the water.
But Lu Zheng was there, forming the Water-Repelling Technique.
“Thud!”
The massive jiao head smashed into the Lan River’s bed.
Guangyue landed, his staff pinning the jiao’s vital seventh inch.
Lu Zheng drew his blade, infusing it with vitality. A tiger’s roar echoed through the riverbed.
“Spare me, Immortal!”
The black jiao was stunned. Their cultivation levels were nearly equal, yet it faced death in moments?
“Crack!”
One slash, and the head was severed.
“Buzz!”
Over sixty strands of fortune’s light were gained.
…
Lu Zheng carried the jiao’s head, Guangyue its body, and they returned to shore.
“Taoist brother?”
“Hm?”
Guangyue, incredulous, said, “This black jiao, nearly two centuries in cultivation, couldn’t last three rounds against us?”
Lu Zheng blinked. With Guangyue’s help, he expected victory, but not this easily.
“Probably a wild breed, lacking techniques?” Lu Zheng paused, suggesting.
Guangyue blinked. “Or it didn’t have time to use them?”
Lu Zheng: “…”
“Taoist brother?”
“Hm?” Lu Zheng stepped back, wary of Guangyue.
As expected…
Guangyue, predictably, said, “Our synergy is flawless. If we don’t travel together, wouldn’t we waste this fated bond?”
Waste your damn bond… Travel together? Waste?
What kind of nonsense is this!
Lu Zheng ignored him. After all, Guangyue couldn’t beat him.
The jiao was massive—three feet thick, nearly five zhang long. Not the legendary hundred-meter size, but the largest demon body Lu Zheng had seen.
“Good lord, it’s huge!” Lu Zheng exclaimed. “How long would it take to eat this!”
“Amitabha!”
Guangyue chanted, “Give it to the villages. This jiao terrorized them for decades. Its flesh feeding them fits the Buddhist cycle of karma.”
Lu Zheng pursed his lips but didn’t object, as he thought the same.
“Let me first extract its main tendon to see if it can be refined into a treasure.”
Guangyue: “…”
Guangyue blinked. “Amitabha, its pair of short horns will make fine Buddhist beads. Excellent, excellent!”
Lu Zheng: “…”
…
According to the Linhe villagers, this black jiao rarely left the Lan River, so it likely had little wealth.
With the river’s turbulent undercurrents stretching dozens of miles from upstream to down, finding its lair was unlikely.
So Lu Zheng abandoned the idea of looting, and together with Guangyue, they divided the jiao’s valuable parts before bringing its body back to Linhe Village.
…
“So big!”
“Is this… a jiao?”
“Its head’s cut off. So pitiful. This is the River God that tormented us for decades?”
“What River God! It’s a demon!”
“Right, a demon! Didn’t expect it to be this huge!”
“It could swallow a person whole!”
“Wah, my little Zhuzi, your fate was cruel! If you’d lasted one more year, you wouldn’t have died!”
The two spared families in Linhe Village wept with joy, while those who lost children in prior years grieved.
“Village chief?”
“Yes! What are the Immortal’s orders?” the Linhe village chief responded quickly.
“I don’t know the way out. Get us a boat to the nearest dock,” Lu Zheng said.
“Of course…”
“I’ll do it!” said the father of one spared child, who had only knelt in thanks before. Now, seeing a chance to help, he spoke up eagerly.
Lu Zheng watched the man hurry to the village dock to untie a boat, while the other family, unable to offer, looked on with envy.
