Invasion Myth: Starting with the Schoolteacher

Chapter 809 Return of the King

After taking stock of his magical treasures, Xu Xuan felt incredibly miserable. He was already inferior to those demon kings and lords in terms of magical power and cultivation, and now he was even lacking in magical treasures. Heaven had been unfair to him.

Click! ! !

A thunderclap resounded over Shouchun, startling the entire city's residents and high-ranking officials.

Only the people from Qiantang didn't take it seriously, treating it as nothing out of the ordinary.

Xu Xuan pursed his lips, knowing that the Heavenly Dao oversees everything, especially certain cultivators with criminal records, but can't he even speak his mind?

A fierce look in his eyes, and his temper flares.

Hmph, fine, I won't say then.

I'll let you off the hook for now, but this horse can't be let off the hook.

You can only talk to someone who is easy to bully or easy to communicate with.

Xu Xuan pushed aside the clutter on the table and unfolded the Nine Provinces Landscape Map with a clatter. He pressed his fingertip heavily on the Yunmeng Marsh, and the ink spread out, creating a dangerous mist.

"If you're going to play, play big."

借宝
Xu Xuan, who believed he had some connections, first took out letter paper and palm leaves to write, but then put them away.

Text-based communication is disrespectful to the other party and fails to demonstrate importance, making it difficult to obtain valuable information.

If Sun Wukong had only sent a visiting card back then, would the Dragon King of the East Sea have obediently handed over the Ruyi Jingu Bang (the magic staff that stabilizes the sea)?

So he took out a map to see which lucky old dragon king would be chosen.

First choice: Bailu Academy.

Thanks to Lu Nan for the detailed introduction, which gave him a deeper understanding of the other party's family background.

It is said that the treasures range from the Shang and Zhou dynasties to the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors period.

Xu Xuan's favorites were naturally the Zuo Fu Wu Ding, the Mu Gong Ce Ding, the Cang Bi, and the Bo Yi Gui.

The Bo Yi Gui is one that I have personally experienced; as long as it gains the approval of the ancient human race, its power is incredibly ferocious.

Of the remaining tripods, the jade disc is definitely superior.

For example, the Zuofuwu Ding was a treasure cast by the Xiahou clan to worship heaven, and it is said that mud marks from when Yu the Great controlled the floods are still on the body of the ding.

At that time, Confucianism had not yet emerged, and these divine objects had already been placed on altars by the human race.

If the accumulated power of vows and orthodox practices over thousands of years can be unleashed, even slaying immortals is not impossible.

However, he also knew that these prized possessions of the academy were not to be borrowed casually.

I need to come up with a plausible reason.
Thinking about this, I started to have some calculations. I didn't mean anything by it; I just wanted to see if Lao Shen could understand my determination to serve the people.

It would be even better if Headmaster Shen himself could bring the precious artifacts to supervise the trip and join in the grand event, traveling together to Yunmeng.

at this time.

On the bluestone path behind Bailu Academy, Headmaster Shen was strolling and admiring the scenery with his hands behind his back when suddenly a chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

"Weird things"

Frowning, he looked around. The mountain was shrouded in a thin mist; what seemed unusual?
But that feeling of impending danger, like being watched by some ferocious beast, was unsettling.

He subconsciously touched the mirror in his arms—the mirror was as cold as ever, and its surface reflected his slightly uneasy face.

"That doesn't make sense," Old Shen muttered to himself. "I've cultivated my righteous spirit for sixty years, and evil spirits have always avoided me."

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly sneezed loudly.

His face darkened; it seemed he was being watched.

Could it be that the group that made the statue of the God of Literature is performing some kind of earth-shattering evil magic?
Otherwise, how could it have affected the White Deer Mountain Master!
Little did they know that this was something that even a certain demon king had his eye on.

Old Shen stopped wandering around and went back to his room to take out a calligraphy brush that looked quite impressive. He started practicing calligraphy to calm his mind. Recently, he had been caught up in the turmoil caused by the Xu guy and had forgotten about cultivating his inner peace.

As long as one's heart is without flaws, there are almost no demons or monsters in this world who can harm the White Deer.

Meanwhile, Xu Xuan on the other side also pulled his thoughts back in that direction.

After all, even someone like him would feel a little guilty for only catching one sheep.

His eyes darted around, and his gaze fell on Jintian Academy, which ranked last among the three major academies in Jiangnan.

“Although it can’t compare to the profound heritage of Bailu Academy, it is still a well-known institution of learning,” Xu Xuan said, stroking his chin with a glint in his eyes. “Those stone tablets that record the Confucian body-forging techniques are good things. It is said that if you master them, you can even tear demons apart with your bare hands.”

Moreover, Old Man Yu must have some hidden treasures.

As a protagonist of the previous era, he traveled all over the country, from the far reaches of the martial arts world to the high positions of the imperial court. Thirty years ago, he even personally participated in the battle to wipe out the White Lotus headquarters.

The dungeons they've experienced aren't much worse than Xu Xuan's; who knows, they might even have some earth-shattering treasures inside.

Behind the Jintian Academy, Yu Gongzheng was meditating in a quiet room. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and a sharp light flashed in them.

"What kind of villain is plotting against me?"

Could it be a young man surnamed Xu?
In a split second, I thought of that bastard.

"Sincerity can lead to foresight. When a nation is about to prosper, there will be auspicious omens; when a nation is about to perish, there will be monstrous signs."

Confucianism teaches that reaching the state of "utmost sincerity" enables one to foresee the future. Just as a nation's prosperity is preceded by auspicious omens, and its decline by unusual phenomena.

Only through profound insight into the laws governing the development of things can one perceive external changes through inner cultivation. Headmaster Shen only scratched the surface, and was only able to perceive a fraction of it thanks to the unique aura of the academy and the aid of the sacrificial vessels.

Yu Gong has gone quite far on the path of sincerity, having been truly tempered in the midst of countless battles and bloodshed. In particular, after being trapped in Wu County, he gained many insights that had been previously overlooked.

Is a storm coming?
With a slight thought, he picked up his spear and went to the courtyard to brandish it, demonstrating his unique skill of maintaining composure.

Every move he made was filled with a powerful and majestic aura.

The spear tip pierced the twilight, and the sweeping, powerful moves seemed to recreate the glorious years of decades past.

The opening move, "Lone Smoke Beyond the Great Wall," was a killing move he used when he was young to stab the Hu chieftain at Yanmen Pass.
The concept of "clear mirror and still water" is a Confucian mental cultivation method created during a period of enlightenment in middle age.
The ending, "Fishing on Wu Mountain," is a testament to the forbearance that has been forged through years of being trapped in Jiangnan.

The wind from the gunshot sent fallen leaves swirling around the courtyard, eventually forming a blurry human shape in mid-air—it looked exactly like a young man in white who was up to no good.

The final move, "Mountains and Rivers Suppress the Peaks," crashed down, causing the bluestone slab to crack open with three fissures.

Yu Gong sheathed his gun, stood there, and coldly snorted as he gazed at the rolling dark clouds in the sky:
"Come if you want!"

Xu Xuan, in Shouchun, shivered and withdrew his thoughts again.

I think this old man is incredibly brave and his attacks are explosive. However, he's trapped in a corner of the world and seems to be gathering momentum. He's more of a protagonist than the main character himself, so it's best not to provoke him unless it's absolutely necessary.

If they really can't find it, they can only ask Chongqi for help.

As his own workplace, Xu Xuan knew about some of the valuable people and powerful figures within it.

I only started resting after I made up my mind.

All that's left is to wait for the results to be released in September. If Yun Zhongjun hasn't appeared before the results are released, Xu Xuan will really go for a straight attack, bringing his equipment and a strong teammate to storm into Yunmengze.

It's time for this grand drama in Jiangnan to wrap up.

The drama in the human world is about to wrap up, but the drama in the underworld is just beginning.

In the underworld, Montenegro officially landed.

Suddenly, a deafening roar, like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting apart, echoed from the deepest abyss of the Sixth Great Prison.

"Ha ha ha ha--!!!"

The Black Mountain Demon's maniacal laughter shook the River of Oblivion, causing countless vengeful spirits to vanish into nothingness amidst the roar. The towering black mountain range finally emerged completely from the water, its tens of thousands of giant rocky feet trampling the land of hell, each step causing the eighteen levels of hell to tremble.

"I, the King of Black Mountain, am back!!!"

Billions of tons of seawater were forcibly pushed aside by demonic power, the rules of hell crumbled under its feet, and even boiling magma fearfully detoured around it.

The Black Mountain Demon stretched out its new body—the holes burned through by the divine light of the sun's fire were now spewing out even thicker demonic energy, like countless hungry mouths.

A violent and terrifying aura is permeating the Sixth Prison.

Feeling the familiar atmosphere and environment, the old demon was in a great mood.

This time, he will take back everything he has lost with his own hands.

Even without background music, the atmosphere was already set enough to make some vows.

Or perhaps it's a retelling of the curse inflicted when one was being burned by the sun's fiery rays.

"When I, the King, descend upon the mortal realm—"

"We must ensure that the Pure Land sect sheds rivers of blood!"

Of course, this was not retaliation against Ruoxu; it could still show some respect to such a fair and square opponent.

But the other monk was not like that.

He infiltrated the Black Mountain Army, absorbed resentment, converted the ghosts, and destroyed the City of the Wrongfully Dead—one thing after another.
Despicable! Shameless! Vulgar!

It vowed to imprison that wicked monk, whose true name remains unknown, in the eighteenth level of hell for millions of years, and then grind his bones to dust!

And when it looked down at the now empty Howling Hell—once crowded with sinful souls waiting to be tormented, now as clean as a plate licked by a dog—the roar of boiling magma came directly from inside the mountain.

This represents an anger in one's heart that cannot be washed away even by pouring out all the water in the world.

"Roar--!!!"

A brand new version of the magnificent Dharma image rises from the ground!

The demon god, with a blue face and fangs, had the image of the Savior of Suffering on his head, yet he possessed the ferocity of a hellish demon. His short, nail-like hair stood on end, each strand piercing the still-unredeemed evil spirits.

The most bizarre thing is the wheel that appears behind it, half of which is inscribed with Taoist Bagua (Eight Trigrams) and the other half with Buddhist Sanskrit, yet it emits a teeth-grinding grinding sound as it spins.
The sonic wave, carrying with it the fundamental rules of hell, swept outwards:

"break!"

Click! Clang!
The metallic clang of breaking chains echoed through the forest of bronze pillars. Before the demons, their skin ripped and mangled, could even react, they found themselves free.

A thousand-year-old corpse king stared blankly at the falling shackles; an old human demon tentatively moved his charred hands and feet; and many more demons trembled as they looked at the towering, earth-shaking demon god.
Big ghosts, little ghosts, fierce ghosts, vengeful ghosts, they were all roaring.

"I'm free! I'm finally free!!"

Zhang San's ghost tumbled down from the red-hot copper pillar, its surface still emitting wisps of blue smoke. He frantically scratched at the underworld, his fingertips digging into the cold dust—no burning! No pain! This simple sensation almost made him cry out loud.

Qiantang!

Song Youde! Zhao Hu! Xu Hanwen!

I will go back!!!
Memories of his past life flooded back. He had been a notorious rogue who roamed the streets of Qiantang, and had inadvertently rendered meritorious service during the Bu Hengzi Rebellion, even inheriting the name Zhang San.

(End of this chapter)