Chapter Sixteen: Return Once More

The influence from Earth could not be erased in a day, so even after arriving in this world, Liu Chen’s subconscious still equated the military with the highest force of violence. Moreover, he had also heard the Daoist’s accounts of the military in this world, which made him all the less likely to consider otherwise.

Regardless of what he thought, however, Lu Qingzong told him the plain truth: this great Sky Net Formation was indeed constructed to repel rebel troops.

“How can that be? Wasn’t the military sect’s most renowned battle the suppression of the Grandmaster of Talismans, the Supreme Peace Daoist?”

Unable to accept this answer, Liu Chen instinctively refuted it. With the Daoist’s previous teachings in mind, his argument was well-supported.

Lu Qingzong, hearing Liu Chen’s skepticism, grew visibly displeased. If not for Liu Chen’s evident strength, he might have rebuked him outright. Yet, even in fear, he could not resist a retort.

“Back then, the Supreme Peace Daoist received the Golden Book and Jade Writ within the Celestial Grotto, but established only twenty-four jurisdictions, commanding merely thirty thousand Daoist soldiers. Even so, he swept across the Nine Provinces and toppled the Great Shen Dynasty. Though later checked by the three illustrious generals of the military sect, it was merely a matter of ill fortune.

Now, times have changed. Six dynasties have passed; the three branches of the Talisman and Seal school are spread throughout the land. In Jiangnan alone, our Lingbao branch counts seventeen lineages, with eight hundred thousand disciples receiving the Talisman. Even if the three generals were reincarnated, they would have to retreat.

As for these so-called rebels, they were only eight hundred border soldiers, now barely fifteen hundred in all. How could they compare to the three heroes who once dominated the world?”

Hearing Lu Qingzong’s confident words, Liu Chen was left speechless. He was not skilled in debate, and his knowledge of this world came solely from the Daoist. Though the Daoist’s insight was broad, time had been limited, and his instruction could only scratch the surface; when it came to specifics, Liu Chen was at a loss.

Even so, he still found it hard to believe that a mere talisman array could withstand a regular army. By Lu Qingzong’s account, there were eight hundred thousand disciples alone—why would they so docilely accept the Great Yan Emperor’s rule? It was hardly likely that every Daoist was so gentle and yielding.

Yet Liu Chen did not dwell on the matter further. For him, it was enough to confirm that a Sky Net Formation was about to be set up which might hinder his revenge against Lu Qingcai; the rest was of little consequence.

“You say—where exactly is this altar, and how can it be destroyed? If it proves effective, I’ll spare your life; if not, I need not say more.”

Abandoning the debate over the formation, Liu Chen began to inquire about the details of the Sky Net Formation’s altar, preparing to investigate the He Family Fortress.

“My life is in your hands—how could I dare deceive you? The altar is in the rear courtyard of the He family, the fortress lords. It is a three-tiered structure, about ten feet high. Once you’re inside, you’ll see it at a glance.”

Faced with Liu Chen’s questioning, Lu Qingzong hurriedly divulged everything he knew—not only describing the altar’s location and structure, but even drawing out the layout of the fortress, fearing Liu Chen might suspect him of falsehood if he took a wrong turn.

Yet, amid these exhaustive details, Lu Qingzong concealed one crucial fact: the altar itself was of little importance. Given enough laborers, a new one could be built in half a day. The essential item was the sacred banner used to summon the Thirty-Two Celestial Saints; as long as the banner remained, the formation could be restored.

Lu Qingzong deliberately withheld this, knowing it violated his family’s rules. But as long as Liu Chen did not destroy the banner, his father’s influence could shield him from grave punishment. After all, for a mere Red Sun Talismanist to leak some information under duress from a warrior of Liu Chen’s strength was understandable.

Unfortunately for him, Liu Chen possessed the ability to sense emotions. While not enough to make him a sage who could read all hearts, it served well enough as a lie detector. As Lu Qingzong dissembled, Liu Chen noticed the fluctuation in his emotions.

After pondering Lu Qingzong’s words several times, Liu Chen still could not pinpoint precisely what was being concealed and began to suspect his own unfamiliarity with his power.

Still, Liu Chen was unwilling to gamble on whether Lu Qingzong was telling the truth. After thinking it over, he said to Lu Qingzong, “Very well, you’ll come with me. Once we reach the He Family Fortress, I’ll destroy the altar myself. If it works, you live; if not, you die. Take this—and don’t dawdle!”

He took out his personal Taotie Token, thrust it into Lu Qingzong’s hand, and cut a gash in his palm. A thread of bright red blood flowed into the token, and Lu Qingzong’s life force immediately waned, as if he had become an old man at death’s door.

“The Taotie Token? How do you possess such a thing?”

As he felt his life essence being slowly drained into the token, Lu Qingzong was, for once, oddly calm. The reason was simple: he knew what the Taotie Token was, having handled one himself. Though the sensation was terrifying, as if his life were ebbing away, he knew that at this rate, the worst he would suffer was some lost vitality—no real harm done.

What puzzled him was how Liu Chen came to own such a thing, and how he knew the trick of using the Taotie Token to conceal a living person’s aura. This seemingly simple trick required intimate knowledge of the token; without it, one could never employ it properly.

Most martial experts, in fact, abhorred the Taotie Token, which drained others’ vitality to replenish one’s own, calling it a tool of demons and heretics. Partly this was because the token’s use could indeed be gruesome, and partly because the vitality it supplied was impure, enough to ruin a martial artist’s foundation.

Thus, the Taotie Token was generally reserved for those in high positions of power, who used bloody rituals to extend their lives.

Considering this, Lu Qingzong began to form some guesses about Liu Chen’s actions and words, which seemed out of keeping with his apparent ability. Yet before he could finish his speculations, Liu Chen seized him and dashed off toward the He Family Fortress.

“Cough—can’t you go a little slower?”

Liu Chen had only practiced martial arts for a single day and, though six of his seven channels were open, he still lacked true mastery. Carrying Lu Qingzong, he relied mainly on brute force. Standing still was one thing, but once Liu Chen started running, Lu Qingzong’s discomfort became acute—much like an ordinary person riding pillion on an old bicycle with no shock absorbers, careening down a gravel road.