Chapter 67 Plague Worms, a Duel of Sorcery Across Space (Special Release! Seeking First-time Subscribers!)

His black hair hung loose, a ghostly light flickering in his eyes. The robe of pestilence draped over his shoulders was embroidered with a vivid tableau of a hundred plagues, enough to send chills down the spines of all who beheld it. Now, gazing upon the extraordinary sight of Chisong Mountain, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

Had that Daoist earlier dared to deceive him, he would not have hesitated to slaughter the entire city of Jinhua, including the family of its so-called prefect. With the Grand Preceptor's blessing, as long as he did not stir up too much trouble, the annihilation of a mere city was hardly an issue.

Liu Wen was in no hurry to ascend the mountain. Instead, he circled the base a few times, intrigued by what he saw. Then, choosing a nearby peak, he found the windward spot, removed his robe, and began to chant incantations.

As his spiritual energy surged and poured into the robe, it seemed to come alive. The images of a hundred plagues embroidered upon it began to writhe and shift. One particular depiction—the Windborne Pestilence—suddenly faded from the fabric, dissolving into the mountain breeze and drifting toward Chisong Mountain.

Liu Wen's eyes glinted as he watched the wind sweep away, a faint smile curling his lips. “Let me first offer a little gift to announce my arrival.”

He then sat cross-legged, waiting quietly for the plague worms to do their work. He was not the sort to charge blindly forward at another's word. Even if there were no masters within the Daoist palace atop Chisong Mountain, he preferred to probe his enemy first. In this age when true spiritual power was waning, he owed his accomplishments as much to his caution as to his prodigious talent.

Carried by the mountain wind, countless plague worms, invisible to the naked eye, floated forth, searching for hosts to infest. Yet the very moment the wind swept into the mountain's heart, it was scattered by a far stronger gale, shredding the plague worms into nothing.

Outside the mountain, Liu Wen, and within, Lin You both opened their eyes at the same instant.

“Hm? Something is amiss,” Liu Wen murmured, his gaze sharpening. Rising to his feet, he looked once more toward the mist-wreathed Chisong Mountain.

In the Spirit Spring Valley, Lin You also turned his gaze toward the direction where Liu Wen waited.

“Master, what is it?” Bai Yi asked, curious as Lin You suddenly looked off into the distance.

Lin You's eyes grew thoughtful, and he smiled lightly. “An ill-omened guest has come to our mountain.”

Just now, though those plague worms were all but invisible, Lin You, as master of the Daoist ground, sensed their presence the moment they entered his domain. He had the wind spirits swiftly annihilate them. The worms were strange indeed—part living creature, part spiritual energy—yet not difficult to destroy. They seemed especially wary of the vital aura of the land, their vigor dampened as soon as they crossed into the mountain.

With a thought, Lin You cast his senses across the entire domain, examining every trace of energy. His gaze quickly locked onto a nearby peak, though as it lay beyond his territory, he could not fully discern the intruder's condition.

After pondering, he turned to the elder, Yu Jing, who was preparing to descend the mountain with his disciples. “Brother, wait a moment. There is an unwelcome guest at our gate.”

Yu Jing halted at once, looking outwards in puzzlement. Was it one of the three great medical sects, come to cause trouble? Or perhaps the prefect of Jinhua, still harboring malice?

The disciples paused as well, all turning to gaze at their grand-uncle.

Lin You calmed his spirit and merged with the entire Daoist ground. His senses soared skyward, surveying the domain from a god’s-eye view. The chirring of insects, the murmuring of streams, the mountain winds—every detail came into focus.

Suddenly, he saw a dark cloud drifting over a high peak nearby, its ominous hum echoing through the valley as if countless insects were beating their wings.

Liu Wen smiled faintly, gazing toward the summit. The tapestry of plagues on his robe was now missing a considerable portion. How long had it been since he had encountered something so interesting? Since refining eighty-four strands of spiritual power and reaching the seventh level, he had found few worthy adversaries in this age of waning spirit. And now, here, in this remote place, someone had actually destroyed his plague worms?

Though those worms were bred to drain the vital energies of ordinary folk and posed little threat to cultivators, their true strength lay in their ability to infiltrate and conceal themselves. Never before had he seen them discovered and eradicated so swiftly.

Rather than dismay, this only stirred his competitive spirit. In this world, save for those with a true Daoist foundation, even grandmasters could not best him. He wanted to see if this cultivator could withstand his swarm of plague insects.

As he considered this, the swarm, dark as a storm cloud, swept toward the summit of Chisong Mountain.

A metallic, vibrating buzz filled the air, dispersing the surrounding mist before the insect cloud devoured it whole.

Lin You rose with the wind, standing atop the mountain haze, his green Daoist robe snapping in the gale. The two men now regarded each other from afar, separated by thick clouds and the black swarm between them.

The instant Liu Wen caught sight of Lin You’s figure, his eyes lit up, and his smile became all the more crazed. “Ha! This trip was not in vain! Who would have thought that, in such a wild and remote place, I would encounter someone like you?”

A strange excitement glimmered in his eyes as he looked at the young Daoist’s ethereal bearing, sensing a kindred spirit at last. Since beginning his cultivation, Liu Wen had never considered himself mortal, living as one above all, toying with the fates of others as a god among men.

Thus, he spread his pestilence without remorse, feeding on the blood and flesh of innocents for his own advancement. Even the so-called martial grandmasters or other extraordinary beings were nothing to him, mere rabble. Compared to one such as himself, they were fundamentally different.

But this young Daoist, with his transcendent aura, seemed like a true immortal amid the mortal dust, awakening in Liu Wen a thrill at meeting a kindred soul. Yet in the presence of such poise, he felt himself a clown in borrowed finery, shame and murderous intent rising in his heart.

Lin You, seeing the swarm of plague insects sweeping toward him like a black cloud, remained unruffled, an air of unhurried confidence about him.

Liu Wen’s killing intent only deepened at this. A cold smile appeared on his face as he waited to see how the other would respond.

Under his gaze, Lin You slowly extended his hand—white as jade—and made a grasping motion toward the swarm.

The wind began to rise.

From the mountains, it gathered, growing stronger and stronger until it became a raging tempest. The floating clouds, already half-devoured by the insects, were swept away, revealing a deep blue sky overhead.

Upon that sky, the black cloud of insects collided with the howling wind!