247: Delayed Plan

In the Mercury Plane, you can catch a few bars of signal even in the remotest corners.

Earlier at Yao Zui Cliff, the Underworld Pear-brand phone was glowing as bright as a full moon.

But ever since they set up camp at the Yin Jiao Clan's Central Altar, the little Pear phone had actually died, not even showing a single bar of signal.

"I've really seen a ghost, damn it."

[Wait, aren't I a ghost?]

Hei Jing stared at the black screen of the phone in his hand, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

He looked up irritably, just in time to see Bai Xuan take off his suit jacket and sit cross-legged directly on the moldy bluestone slabs.

"Just endure for three more years and we can go back."

Bai Xuan flicked his forehead with a finger, his eyes scanning the distant Yin Jiao Clan altar.

"Huh? Three more years? Didn't Jiao Xiao say eight months would be enough?" Hei Jing's mental state almost collapsed.

Having tasted the joys of the internet, he only wanted to immerse himself in the sea of gossip during his off-hours.

Bai Xuan: "What's the rush? It's just a three-year delay, not like staying in Black Horn Iron Prison for three years."

"Is she playing tricks?"

Hei Jing stood up abruptly, the Underworld Marshal Token at his waist clinking against the armor on his wrist.

"I'm going to put the chains on her right now."

"If that old fox You Yu can tame her, we brothers can't let him look down on us."

Bai Xuan pressed down on the back of his neck with one hand and tapped the gold-plated patterns on the back of the Communication Talisman with his fingertips.

"Look at the Communication Talisman yourself. His Majesty sent a secret order yesterday, wanting us to slow down the progress. We wait until Lady Meng Jiang breaks through to the seventh rank and comes out of seclusion before tearing the barrier opening wider."

"Why wait specifically for Lady Meng Jiang? Doesn't she have a lot of affairs to handle at the Bridge of Helplessness?"

Hei Jing scratched the back of his head.

His ear was stained with grass clippings from his earlier excitement. "Besides, Lady Meng Jiang's breakthrough is her own business. What does it have to do with Black and White Impermanence unsealing the barrier?"

Bai Xuan leaned in closer, his lowered voice mixing with the demonic wind of the altar.

"His Majesty is in seclusion pushing for the eighth rank, and Her Eminence Olexia is taking the boy and girl groups around the world to harvest faith."

"The Underworld currently has no true god holding the fort. If some filthy things crawl out of the Demon breach..."

He tapped his brow with his finger.

"Lady Meng Jiang's Vermilion Brush is much more reliable than the wailing sticks in the hands of Underworld Marshals."

Hei Jing understood immediately and slapped his knee excitedly.

But just as his eyes met Bai Xuan's, he saw a cold glint flash through the other's eyes.

He felt as if someone had grabbed him by the throat, and his voice dropped by half.

"Brother Xuan, I was wrong. My thinking was too shallow." He quickly offered a fawning smile, his voice eight octaves lower than before.

Bai Xuan curled his lips: "But we can't rely entirely on Lady Meng Jiang."

"Three years is a long time. We brothers can't slack off for even a second, lest we fail His Majesty's trust."

He paused, then continued: "Look at how this Yin Jiao Clan land has no signal. There's definitely something fishy going on."

Although his tone was flat, Hei Jing caught the underlying meaning and nodded repeatedly.

"Also, I've noticed that old man Jiao Rong has been acting strange lately."

Bai Xuan's muscles tensed: "If His Majesty hadn't given us a few pointers in the inner hall last time, I would have almost let him slip through."

Hei Jing's eyes widened, his face full of shock.

He stared at Bai Xuan and asked stutteringly, "Wait... Brother, you're saying Jiao Rong is a problem? Isn't that crazy old man barely able to manage his own demonic power?"

"The crazier the appearance, the deeper the hidden blade."

Bai Xuan's fingertips brushed over the saber at his waist; the words 'Suppress Evil' on the scabbard glowed faintly.

“In the barrier map Jiao Pengze handed over yesterday, three Yin Veins were missing from the bottom right corner—those are Evil Nodes that can swallow fifth-rank Ghost Messengers.”

“If His Majesty hadn't warned us earlier...”

“Holy crap!”

Hei Jing was dumbfounded, his finger unconsciously poking his palm. “So there's a whole theater troupe hiding right under our noses?”

“What about Jiao Pengze? He looks like a simpleton, surely he wouldn't...”

“Naive?” Bai Xuan suddenly smiled, his knuckles rapping against the cracks on the edge of the altar.

A partial Yin Jiao Clan Emblem was faintly visible within the cracks. “Among those who can survive in a Yin Jiao Nest until now, who is a real fool?”

“His Majesty is keeping these three around, likely to catch an even bigger fish.”

Bai Xuan brushed the grass clippings off his knee, his fingertips tracing the dark patterns on the back of the Communication Talisman, a cold smile playing on his lips.

“It'll be enough to strip the Yin Jiao Nest of its very foundations.”

“Investigate discreetly during this time.” He glanced sideways at Hei Jing, whose back muscles were tense.

“Don't be like a blockhead who shouts at every breeze. Be careful not to startle the dragons.”

“Don't worry!”

Hei Jing slapped his eight-pack abs in guarantee, the sound of the slap echoing.

“I haven't even been following gossip lately. I've switched to studying the 'Secret History of the Yin Jiao Clan'—I'll be like a thief, making sure even my footsteps are three pounds lighter.”

...Three months later, a demonic wind carrying the scent of blood blew into their faces.

A vibration like muffled thunder came from deep within the Central Altar.

Inky sludge seeped from the gaps between the bluestone slabs, winding like a living thing toward the temporary camp Hei Jing had set up.

Bai Xuan's nose twitched; the sludge was mixed with the rotten, fishy stench unique to the Yin Jiao Clan.

He teleported in front of Hei Jing, grabbing the meditating youth and throwing him backward into a pile of rubble dozens of meters away.

Hei Jing steadied himself while cursing, “What the hell? If a fight's starting, say something first!”

Under the moonlight, the sludge condensed into a Yin Jiao totem, its snake-tongue-like patterns pointing directly at the space capsule buildings where the Ghost Messengers were stationed.

LED light filtered through the curtains, casting the shadow of a black-robed figure onto the wall, appearing more than twice as large as Bai Xuan.

“It's the 'Ghost Evil Spirit-Devouring Array'.”

Spiritual fire condensed at Bai Xuan's fingertips, and the words 'Suppress Evil' on his scabbard glowed with a red light.

“Hei Jing, an Evil Cultivator is raising a Substitute Puppet.”

“To cause trouble at a time like this, they're really fucking looking for death.”

Hei Jing rubbed his lower back as he retreated to Bai Xuan's side, his pupils shrinking as he looked up.

Bai Xuan's saber drew a cold arc in the moonlight, and the 'Suppress Evil Talisman' wrapped around the hilt emitted fine golden light.

As he flipped his wrist, saber qi splashed toward the ground.

The bluestone slabs cracked into a spiderweb pattern, and the black sludge seeping from the gaps evaporated upon contact with the heat, emitting a charred, rotten stench.

The hunched figure of the black-robed person swayed in the saber qi, the hood slipping halfway down to reveal dark red scales on the chin.

Those were the unique molting scale marks of the Yin Jiao Clan.

“The third strike.”

Bai Xuan whispered to himself, tapping the saber hilt three times with his finger.

This was the 'Pulse-Severing Kill' rhythm he had agreed upon with the Saber Spirit: the first two strikes break the defense, and the third strikes the vitals.

When the saber light flared again, it was thirty percent brighter than before.

The red light on the 'Suppress Evil' characters on the scabbard surged, like a burning torch, slicing through the mass of demonic energy.

“Ugh—”

The black-robed person let out a muffled roar.

He raised his arms to block, but beneath the fabric slipping from his sleeves, wrists wrapped in substitute incantations were revealed.

Bai Xuan did not stop his momentum.

The saber qi, with the force of splitting bamboo, crashed into the opponent's chest, producing a dull thud of shattering internal organs.

“Boom—”

The black-robed person exploded into a cloud of black mist under the moonlight, with countless shimmering bits of fat falling like rain.

On the ground, they merged into a bubbling black puddle of corrosive water.