Chapter 42: The Might of the True God of Fire

Jinjiang County

High above the firmament, amidst brooding clouds, it seemed as if a volcano had erupted, casting the entire sky in a scarlet glow. Rivers of molten fire twisted like dragons among the clouds, while violent winds swept waves of searing heat across the land, scorching all in their path to ash—serpents, insects, rats, and ants alike.

The soldiers of the constabulary suddenly realized the black-robed adversaries before them had all fled in panic. They exchanged confused glances, lowering their weapons and looking around in bewilderment. Only the grizzled veteran, bloodied but battle-hardened, seemed to sense something, turning his gaze to a certain house.

There, above the roof, a vague and shadowy figure loomed—like a deity gazing down upon the entire county. Wherever its gaze fell, the myriad centipede monsters whimpered and cowered like beaten dogs.

At the altar before the temple, waves of heat billowed, making the fat Daoist’s robes balloon around him. He raised both hands high, gasping painfully for breath, yet his face was alight with a near-fanatical smile.

“Bestow me a hundred blessings, a thousand fortunes; command the celestial soldiers, annihilate all demons; thunder to capture fiends, wind to grant auspices…” he chanted.

The scorching heat had already set his robe, hair, and even his eyebrows ablaze, but the incantation pouring from his lips never faltered for a moment.

“…Fire Virtue Lord, commander of the Department of Flame, dispel evil and protect the true, let your mighty power be manifest. I summon you now; descend swiftly before my altar. Grant me peace, eliminate calamity and misfortune…”

He roared and bellowed with all his might, heedless of the blood streaming from his mouth and nose, even as his voice grew hoarse.

“…Fire commands thunder and flame, earth bears fortune; the primal heavens grant prosperity and virtue. By royal edict, so let it be!”

Thunder crashed.

At last, as the final line of the cumbersome “Altar of Fiery Virtue” incantation fell, the divine silhouette in the sky came alive. It raised an enormous right hand and slowly pressed down toward Jinjiang County. The gesture was like a mountain toppling, blotting out the sun and sky. The darkness overhead was banished, replaced by a blinding daylight.

Countless centipede monsters, controlling their parasitized hosts, scrambled frantically to flee the county’s borders. But however swift their escape, how could they outrun a god?

The sky thundered. A succession of explosions rang out as searing flames consumed every corner of the county. The townsfolk, hiding in their homes, were drenched in sweat by the waves of heat, as though baked beneath a blazing sun, suffering unbearably. Yet for the monstrous invaders, the heat was like molten lava, incinerating their bodies. When they opened their mouths to scream, the fiery magma poured in through every orifice, churning their innards to a blackened mass in mere moments.

The nine-foot-tall monk, who had battled Yue Wenying, fled the fastest, the city gates almost within reach, a flash of desperate hope in his blood-red eyes. But in the blink of an eye, the inferno swept over him from behind, reducing him to ash and hurling his remains beyond the city walls.

The towering deity, whose palm had struck down, now turned to gaze upon the altar and the Daoist beside it.

At this moment—

Zhang Xuan’s robe was reduced to rags, his Daoist topknot and eyebrows singed away, looking less like a Daoist than a monk. Yet he paid it no heed, forcing himself upright to offer a ritual bow.

“Pure Yang of Mount Mao humbly bids farewell to the True Lord.”

As he finished speaking, the “Fire and Thunder Talisman” enshrined at the altar slowly faded from sight, and the divine shadow in the sky gradually extinguished. All the incense sticks and candles around the offering table were burned away, the spiritual bridge dissolved on the wind. The sky grew somber again, and the moonlight returned to the earth.

In the courtyard, Bai Xian leapt down from the corpse of the nine-foot monk, gazing up at the dissipating deity, struck momentarily speechless. All at once, something stirred within her mind and she quickly turned her senses inward. The green-bound book within her appeared on its own, its countless pages rustling like a storm. The quest markers that had once pointed in every direction now clarified as the heavenly fire consumed the centipede monsters, finally merging into a single beam of green light, pointing toward a single destination—the residence of County Magistrate Zeng Zhiming.

At that moment, the townsfolk began to emerge from their homes. Outside the hall, the constabulary soldiers and yamen officers were already celebrating. Beneath the altar table, He Shan, who had miraculously survived the heavenly fire, crawled out anxiously, steadying the blood-speckled, pallid-faced Daoist Zhang Xuan.

And Zhang Xuan, blood trickling from his mouth, erupted in wild laughter.

“My sect always said I ate too much, my master claimed I was dull, he even rigged a red slip to drive me off the mountain… Yet it was I, the outcast of Mount Mao, who succeeded in summoning the True Lord of Fire… Hahaha…”

Bai Xian pressed her lips together—so, he knew everything. To summon a true deity was not simply a matter of offerings or sufficient power. One must also be upright and just, for if the summoner’s heart was impure, the deity would strike them down first of all. That Zhang Xuan had survived proved the quality of his character—and that his master had been wrong to banish him.

Zhang Xuan’s laughter soon set off a wave of joyous commotion. Cai Wei and Yue Wenying collapsed to the ground, laughing up at the sky. The yamen officers and soldiers danced and cheered, some even collapsing in tears. Having survived such a catastrophe, no form of release was excessive. Even the old battle-scarred general unconsciously removed his helmet and wept with closed eyes. Though many had died, victory was theirs.

“Miss Bai Xian… Where’s Miss Bai?” He Shan suddenly noticed that Bai Xian, who had been standing by the altar, had vanished.

The Magistrate’s Residence

“Open the door, it’s me! Hurry!”

At the sound of shouting outside, the heavy vermilion gates finally parted a crack. A steward poked his head out and, seeing who it was, hastily addressed the visitor—a dignitary from the yamen, Deputy Magistrate Wu.

“Master Wu, what brings you here at this late hour?”

“Did you not see that monster in the sky? Quickly, let me in! I have urgent matters to report to the magistrate.”

The steward, suspecting nothing, signaled the servants to unbar the thick wooden gates and ushered the old deputy magistrate inside.

Within the hall, Zeng Zhichang paced anxiously, surrounded by his family and servants, worry etched deep into his plump face. The steward hurried in to report.

“Master, Lord Wu requests an audience.”

Zeng Zhichang was momentarily taken aback. “Which Lord Wu?”

“Deputy Magistrate Wu, sir.”

“Why isn’t he staying in the yamen at a time like this? What’s he doing coming here?”

Though he had always respected the elderly strategist, Zeng Zhichang had no patience for such things tonight.

“Tonight, I’m not seeing anyone but Cai Wei. Tell him to go back the way he came.”

He assumed the old man was seeking refuge with his household, since there were still yamen guards stationed here. But then the steward added, “It seems Lord Wu came alone.”

The fat magistrate’s face changed at once. He came alone!

“Damn it, close the gates at once!”

A few servants rushed to shut the half-open gate, but a pair of withered hands shot out to hold the doors fast. No matter how hard they pushed, the gates did not budge.

A chilling sound of slithering followed. Suddenly, the hands grasping the doors were crawling with centipede-like monsters. The two servants, petrified with terror, abandoned the doors and fled.

Moments later, Wu Deyi, white-haired and long-bearded, strode inside, a twisted, sinister smile on his face. A closer look would reveal something writhing beneath his robes.

“Why, Magistrate, would you refuse an old man like me at your door?”