Chapter 916: The Yellow Lotus Cult

The mountain path was narrow, the woods deep and shadowy, with no sign of human presence in the surroundings.

The small dog dashed ahead, with the Blood Guard cavalry in hot pursuit.

Suddenly, the nimble hunting dog stopped in its tracks, sniffing the ground anxiously.

Old Qiu, leading the charge, pulled on his reins and frowned, "The trail’s gone cold."

Demons are cunning creatures; such occurrences are frequent, and often the chase ends in futility.

Flap flap!

As the four halted to assess the situation, a strange rustling sound came from the nearby woods.

A flock of startled birds burst forth from the dense forest.

This sudden disturbance inevitably drew everyone’s attention.

Swish!

To their utter surprise, just as their focus was diverted, a large net suddenly fell from above!

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

Simultaneously, arrows shot out swiftly from the woods flanking the mountain path.

“Enemy attack!”

Old Qiu reacted swiftly, his eyes widening in alarm as he drew his Yan Feather Blade.

Yet, compared to Wang Chen at the rear, he was a step behind.

The moment the birds took flight, Wang Chen had already sensed the impending danger.

Without hesitation, he reached into the leather pouch on his saddle and pulled out a bundle of short rods.

With a forceful flick of his right hand, the seven rods instantly extended and interlocked to form a long spear!

This collapsible Seven-Pronged Spear was a treasure from the Ling family’s secret vault. After mastering the Wildfire Spear Technique under Wang Hui, Wang Chen had made it a staple of his arsenal.

“An inch longer, an inch stronger,” the spear reigns supreme among weapons, ideal for mounted combat, capable of unleashing formidable power in battle.

Spotting the descending net, Wang Chen thrust his spear upward like a dragon, piercing through the net from below.

The spear, cold as frost, unleashed the bloodshed wheel power with a mighty force, hurling the vast net away!

In the next instant, Wang Chen swung his spear sideways, deflecting several arrows aimed at him.

A shadowy figure appeared silently behind him, leaping up suddenly with a silver-gray dagger aimed at Wang Chen’s back.

The attackers’ ambush was both sudden and stealthy.

It was a masterful display of assassination!

Yet, Wang Chen, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, turned swiftly and thrust the Seven-Pronged Spear, instantly piercing the assassin’s chest.

A counter strike!

Thud!

The silver spearhead slid effortlessly through the assassin’s heart, emerging from the back.

The masked assassin’s eyes widened in disbelief, his dagger slipping from his grasp as he gasped his last breath.

Wang Chen flicked his wrist, sending the assassin tumbling off his spear.

“Mother Wu Dang, save the people!”

At that moment, shadowy figures clad in gray emerged from both sides of the mountain path, chanting slogans as they charged toward the four riders.

To make matters worse, massive boulders began tumbling down the slopes, instantly blocking the Blood Guards’ escape route.

“With blades in hand, slay the bloodhounds!”

Hearing this battle cry for the first time, Wang Chen nearly choked on his own blood.

“It’s The Yellow Lotus Cult!”

Old Qiu bellowed, having just deflected a barrage of arrows. “Send the signal for reinforcements, now!”

The Xiaoqi finally pieced it together—the human skins stripped from the tailor shop family were not the work of demons but a meticulously planned killing trap set by The Yellow Lotus Cult to target the Blood Guards!

Whoosh—

A fiery streak shot into the sky, bursting into a dazzling display of light.

This signal flare was standard issue for every Blood Guard. With a simple pull of the fuse, it could be launched instantly, visible for miles around.

The forest was not far from Linjiang City.

“Form a formation!” Old Qiu barked.

With the path blocked and Yellow Lotus Cultists closing in, their only option was to hold their ground and await reinforcements.

Two Blood Guards swiftly moved to shield Old Qiu’s flanks, forming the Three Talents Formation.

The Blood Guards were seasoned fighters, their years of frontline combat honing their skills and teamwork to perfection.

“Ling Zhiyuan!”

Old Qiu suddenly realized his mistake—Wang Chen had been left outside their formation!

It was an oversight he shouldn’t have made, but in the chaos, he hadn’t thought it through. By the time he noticed, the Yellow Lotus Cultists were already upon them, weapons raised.

There was no time to adjust the formation now.

“Forget about him!”

Dong Zhihui snapped from behind, his voice laced with frustration. “We never should’ve brought a rookie like him!”

He wasn’t about to let their formation fall apart in the heat of battle.

Old Qiu’s heart ached. Wang Chen was young and brimming with potential—it would be a waste for him to die here.

But as the squad leader, he had no choice. Gripping his Yan Feather Blade, he swung at an oncoming Yellow Lotus Cultist.

Meanwhile, Wang Chen had dismounted, spear in hand, ready to face the horde of cultists surging toward him.

He had heard of The Yellow Lotus Cult but had never encountered its followers in the flesh.

The Yellow Lotus Cult was an heretical sect that had emerged decades ago in southern Daliang. Its name reflected the belief that all life was suffering. The cult worshipped Mother Wu Dang, said to be the sister of the Daoist Immortal of the Unsullied, wielding immense and destructive power.

Their rallying cry was to save the people, often luring the poor and desperate with promises of food and medicine, gaining a strong foothold among the masses.

Over the years, The Yellow Lotus Cult had risen in rebellion multiple times, even managing to seize a city at its peak.

But the Great Liang court had swiftly crushed them, scattering their leaders and reducing their influence to near nothing.

Since then, The Yellow Lotus Cult had gone underground, engaging in a bitter, endless feud with the Blood Guards—a rivalry as deep as the ocean.

In truth, The Yellow Lotus Cult was just one of many heretical groups operating across Daliang.

Thud!

Wang Chen’s Seven-Pronged Spear pierced through a Yellow Lotus Cultist’s chest. The man’s eyes bulged as he mustered his final strength, swinging his long knife in a desperate attempt to take Wang Chen down with him.

But Wang Chen yanked his spear free and stepped back, dodging the strike with ease.

The spear’s tip arced through the air, slamming into another cultist’s shoulder and sending him crashing into a tree, his neck snapping on impact.

In mere moments, Wang Chen had felled two cultists, their blood staining the forest floor.

Yet more Yellow Lotus Cultists charged forward, their bloodshot eyes wild, faces twisted in fury as they closed in on Wang Chen, surrounding him completely.

“Kill him!” one cultist roared.

But in the next instant, a cold flash of steel sliced through his throat, sending a spray of crimson into the air.

And he wasn’t the only one.

A flurry of cold light erupted, cutting through the surrounding cultists with ruthless precision. The air filled with the sounds of clashing steel, agonized screams, and the sickening crack of bones.

Wildfire’s Nine Strikes—a technique that swept through the enemy like a raging inferno!