Chapter Fifty-Two: The Talismans Lose Their Power

Pale moon hung in the sky.

In the wild mountains and forests, shadows of trees danced in the night.

“Hyah!”

At the end of a rugged mountain path, two powerful steeds thundered forward, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust. Their nostrils flared with hot breath as they sped past the looming trees, which blurred by like fleeting phantoms.

On horseback, two men dressed in black traveling clothes kept their gazes sharp and vigilant, scanning their surroundings as if searching for something.

Yet, barely ten meters behind them, a figure in scholar’s attire followed nimbly through the woods. Though he looked every bit the frail academic, his mastery of lightfoot skill was profound and robust. Each step seemed to tread upon a drifting cloud; his leaps and bounds were as effortless and unhurried as a stroll through a garden.

Swallow’s Flight has finally reached the second stage.

Once I reach the third, I’ll seek out another compatible lightfoot technique to merge with it.

Glancing at his proficiency panel, Qi Xiu plotted silently. After his previous harrowing encounter, being hunted by mutated beasts, he had come to deeply appreciate the importance of a refined escape technique.

Swallow’s Flight was, after all, only a third-rate lightfoot skill. If not for his miraculous proficiency cheat, he wouldn’t have broken through even to the Energy Condensation stage.

The art of survival could not be taken lightly; it concerned his very life and future.

As Qi Xiu debated whether to extract another skill from Yuan Baiyi or to try his luck at the Ghost Market’s treasure ship, a sudden shout from ahead broke his train of thought.

“Whoa!”

Yuan Baiyi reined in his horse with practiced ease, frowning as he strode toward a clump of grass by the roadside.

A shriveled, blackened carcass lay on the ground—just discernible as a wild deer.

“The snapped grass is fresh. This can’t have happened more than two hours ago,” Nie Xun reported after inspecting the area beside the corpse.

“It seems those two fiendish demons are close by.”

“Abandon the horses and proceed on foot. We don’t want to alert them.”

Wasting no time, Yuan Baiyi led the three of them into the heart of the looming mountain.

…

The forest was lush, shadows thick and deep.

Dappled sunlight barely filtered through the canopy, casting faint patterns in the gloom.

“The corpses are getting more frequent. We must be close,” Yuan Baiyi murmured, rubbing the talisman at his waist as he eyed the bloodless remains of a wild boar.

Demons loved blood and flesh—especially human flesh. They rarely bothered with ordinary beasts, unless…

Unless they were gravely wounded and in desperate need of sustenance to recover their strength.

Parting the waist-high underbrush, the three delved deeper into the forest.

At last, they reached a precipitous cliff.

Qi Xiu narrowed his eyes, letting out a soft sound.

“Hmm?”

Alerted by the noise, Yuan Baiyi glanced over. “What is it?”

“Look there.”

Qi Xiu raised his right arm, pointing. In a distant hollow, nestled among the mountains, stood a small village—no more than a hundred households.

From within, gentle cooking smoke curled into the air.

The village was so unassuming that, were it not for Qi Xiu’s sun-gazing technique that sharpened his vision, they might never have spotted it in this sea of mountains.

“It’s just a regular village. What’s unusual?” Nie Xun, hefting his gilded tiger-head spear, had spotted it as well.

“The village itself seems ordinary. But with two demons ravaging the area, every wild beast has suffered, yet this village remains untouched. That’s rather odd, don’t you think?”

Qi Xiu explained his suspicion.

“Let’s go take a look,” Yuan Baiyi ordered, and the trio set off toward the village.

…

A crooked sign hung from a gnarled old tree, bearing the words: Ge Family Village.

The road at the village entrance was smooth and clean. A handful of children were playing, laughing and chasing each other. But as the three strangers approached—each of them exuding an unwelcoming air—the children shrank back, then scattered, dashing home as fast as they could.

“Nothing seems out of place,” Qi Xiu murmured, hands tucked into his sleeves as he quietly observed the scene, his fingers clutching a Suppression Talisman.

Within the small village, figures moved about—the usual sights: feeding chickens, sweeping the yard, carrying sacks. Everything appeared as it should in any rural settlement. Nothing seemed amiss.

“Perhaps we’re overthinking things?”

He eyed a nearby courtyard, where a farm woman scattered feed for a flock of plump, healthy chickens—perfect for the pot.

But after a moment, Qi Xiu sensed something was wrong.

He turned, glancing over his shoulder.

Yuan Baiyi and Nie Xun, who had just been behind him, had vanished—silent and traceless, as if wiped from existence.

A chill crawled up his spine.

Damn, I’ve walked right into a trap.

…

“An illusion?” Yuan Baiyi’s eyes sharpened as he realized Qi Xiu and Nie Xun had vanished.

Those two demons were severely wounded—could they still conjure a hallucinatory technique of this caliber?

Or was there another demon at play?

He slowly drew his heavy spirit sword, energy surging through his body. In an instant, a violent gust erupted at his feet.

“If it’s an illusion, I’ll break it.”

…

Within the village, the sudden wind roared like a storm.

Villagers rushed out in panic, only to find a figure striding toward them, sword in hand, killing intent radiating like a tide.

“Who are you? Please, don’t hurt my people. Whatever you want, we’ll give you,” pleaded an old man of seventy or eighty, his beard snowy white. He hobbled forward, fell to his knees before Yuan Baiyi.

“At least spare the children…”

“I beg you, don’t harm my children.”

“If you must kill, kill me instead.”

“Mother!” a child wailed.

With a hiss, the sword flashed—one head fell.

Blood spurted several meters high.

Yuan Baiyi wiped the blade, frowning.

“It’s warm… Could it be… this isn’t an illusion? Did I kill the wrong person?”

…

“I can’t get out?”

At the entrance to the village, Qi Xiu’s brow furrowed.

After discovering the disappearance of his companions, he had tried to retrace his steps, hoping to escape the ominous place.

But each time he walked a hundred meters or so beyond the village, the next step would bring him back to the entrance—as if trapped in a ghostly maze, caught in a cycle with no exit.

It seemed the only way out was through the village itself.

Setting his jaw, Qi Xiu turned—only to see that every villager, who had moments before been going about their daily business, now stood silently at their doorways.

Men, women, children, and elders—all wore the same eerie smile.

And every eye was fixed on him.

The sight made Qi Xiu’s heart clench in terror. His hand instinctively dropped to the bamboo staff at his waist.

“What’s going on? The Suppression Talisman isn’t responding at all.”

A tide of cold energy pressed down on him, but the talisman in his hand remained inert.

The infallible Suppression Talisman had suddenly failed him, leaving a heavy weight in his chest.

He had never encountered anything like this before.

And then, all the villagers—faces twisted in those unnatural smiles—began to move in unison, marching straight toward him.

…