Mythology Returns! Starting with Folklore and Strange Tales

"What are you standing there for? Where are the things I gave you? Where are the decorations I taught you to set up during the day? Hurry up and get to work!"

"Are you really going to let a kid stand in front of us and fight the Japanese devils head-on?"

The intense exertion from flying over a dozen talismans was taking its toll on Blind Wang, who was already a mediocre fighter. But he ignored his weak legs, which were starting to give way, and quickly began to direct the militiamen around him.

"Altar, Bagua mirror, Kitchen God pot, black dog's blood, coin sword..."

"Look, look, is your father or your mother over there? Move around! You're like a dead man. Is this how you stay at home with your women?"

While cursing Blind Wang, he glanced back and, with just that one glance, he and the militiamen froze in place.

Taking advantage of the brief moment gained by the talisman fire, Zhang Wei ran a couple more steps and, after covering roughly the same distance, flicked his hand and splashed the blood cinnabar that he had been brewing in his mouth for more than ten seconds, which then followed and scattered in the air along with the chicken blood.

"puff!"

The chicken blood, which had been settling for over an hour after being bled, mixed with the cinnabar and human blood in the air. In that instant, the dark red blood turned bright red, even gleaming! It was as if a burning flame was pouring down on the Japanese soldiers in the distance.

Every drop of blood rained down like sulfuric acid, burning the Japanese soldiers and their dogs, making them howl in agony.

There was no trace of their former rigorous training; instead, they resembled a disorganized rabble... No, they weren't even disorganized rabble in their current state. At best, they were like wild dogs that had been hung up and beaten, howling pitifully as they fled in panic!

Rolling, thrashing...

In a short period of time, they had racked their brains to try to extinguish the crimson flames that were beginning to burn on their bodies, but the results were not ideal.

Every drop of blood clung to their souls like a bone-deep infection, causing excruciating pain. Outwardly, it manifested as their entire bodies being scorched and corroded, their already ugly faces becoming even more mangled and their bones exposed.

For the Japanese soldiers, even the traditional method of seppuku (ritual suicide) was not as agonizing as it was now!

While it is indeed pleasing to watch the Japanese soldiers wail, given their current level of endurance, most of them would find it difficult to withstand this "True Yang Arrow" plus version with its full Yang energy buff.

But who among young people these days still plays micro-management?

When you're poor, use tactical infiltration; when you're rich, bomb them!

After spitting out a mouthful of [True Yang Arrow], Zhang Wei didn't care about anything else. Under the moonlight, Zhang Wei, who had thrown away the bath tub in his hand, floated out like a black shadow. A gust of wind was heard, and a howling Japanese dog (a traitor) was cut in half by the rough blade.

The malevolent energy remaining on the broadsword eroded the mangled ghost body along the wound on its waist and abdomen. In the blink of an eye, the split-in-two ghost dog disintegrated, turning into a cloud of gray-black smoke that slowly drifted away.

At that moment, Zhang Wei appeared in front of another Japanese soldier, grinning maliciously as he slashed down with his second blade.

"Gulp!"

Along the country road in the darkness, someone swallowed hard, and the sudden sound in the deathly silence jolted everyone out of their daze.

Wang the Blind Man and the clerk locked eyes, and the complex emotions conveyed in their three eyes could fill a book.

"Are you sure Dog Egg isn't possessed by some heroic martyr?"

The clerk, having regained his senses, seemed to be muttering to himself, or perhaps asking Blind Wang a question.

This is ridiculous.

Although he had heard that Zhang Wei had killed the old cat monkey on the mountain, like many other villagers, he had never seen it in person and had only received secondhand information. Although he "invited" Zhang Wei with the idea of ​​trying anything, he really just wanted Zhang Wei to be an assistant to Blind Wang.

The gist is that it's like hiring a bodyguard for a mage. If he can kill old cats and monkeys, then temporarily blocking some ghosts and monsters shouldn't be a problem, right?

Although Blind Wang is only a half-baked expert, these days anyone who can get a stable place to live and be trusted by the whole village must have some skills. As the saying goes, if you give him time, this blind man can really come up with something amazing.

But you, who used to play support, have now become the main damage dealer.

Treat a group of Japanese soldiers and their dogs like they were just sitting on the roadside; one slash and they were gone; two slashes and they were gone.

This is ridiculous!

Although they usually refer to these things as "Japanese devils" in a derogatory way, to be honest, the living Japanese devils are really strong, and the dead Japanese devils are also a kind of soldier spirit, even among the many ghosts and monsters, they are among the strongest!

Moreover, while a single soldier might not be particularly noticeable, once their spirits coalesce into a formation, even those who aren't professionals in the field know that this thing is exceptionally fierce.

The only comparable example is the red and white clash, provided that there are not many of them.

Four days ago, he was a mischievous kid who went up and down mountains and rivers, but four days later, he was carrying a big knife and fighting the Japanese, killing them until they screamed like ghosts. This is too outrageous!

This comparison made the adults feel a little embarrassed.

At such an advanced age, he's already lived to the point of being a dog's belly.

"Should we...?"

Seeing that the clerk was going on and on with his nonsense, Blind Wang simply snatched the altar from the militiaman's hands: "Stop your 'this' and 'that' nonsense. Are you really planning to watch this from beginning to end? If you're not capable, don't hold me back. If I don't help out with this great opportunity to kill Japanese devils, I'll have no face to face my master if I die!"

The clerk exclaimed in surprise and watched helplessly as Blind Wang, cursing and kicking, made the militiamen start working.

Although the latter was beaten, he knew he was in the wrong and did not dare to fight back.

Well, more importantly, although there are many young men here, there are also some elderly people in their thirties and forties. Even the young men were at the end of that catastrophe when they were young. They unfortunately saw the Japanese devils, and their hatred for these things cannot be explained in a few words. Although they can't go up and kill the Japanese devils like Zhang Wei, they can still help out and have something to brag about when they go back to the village.

Ahead, at the foot of the mountain, is a recessed area with three sides of shelter.

The Japanese squad leader looked at the boy swimming among his men with a look of horror.

It was truly baffling. With all the formidable figures in China drawn away by Inoue Rin, where did this devilish child come from?

It couldn't understand it, but it couldn't just stand by and watch Zhang Wei continue this slaughter.

In this land far from its homeland, as a dead soul with no backup, it relied on its group of Japanese soldiers and "dogs" to roam the villages at night. If they all died here, leaving it all alone, it wouldn't live much longer. Not to mention, the spirits on the mountain would naturally swarm up and tear it to pieces.

Thinking this, the squad leader called out, "Kid, the war is over, and there's no reason for our hatred to continue. I think we could talk?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the dark figure that had been wreaking havoc in the distance suddenly rushed toward its location.

As a gust of wind swept in, the squad leader instinctively raised his katana. The moment the blades clashed, he felt as if he had been gored by a wild boar. The immense force forced him to take two steps back, and a noticeable nick appeared on the blade.

Using the momentum, Zhang Wei landed, discarding the dull and worn-out blade of his greatsword. He drew another one from behind his back, ran his hand along the blade, and stepped forward with a backhand: "Go to hell, try blocking another one for your dad!"