Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 336: Out of Nowhere

“Keep these things to yourself,” He Lingchuan reminded Skinny. “The authorities haven’t made any announcement. Don’t go home and run your mouth, either. Your household’s full of people, and loose talk spreads fast.”

It had already been several days since the Red Peak Mine incident. On the surface, Panlong City still looked calm and unruffled. No one had publicly exposed any earth-shaking scandal.

This meant that most of the information surrounding the incident was being handled behind closed doors, quietly and deliberately being kept from the public eye.

Skinny let out a sigh and nodded. “True enough. We little folk have food and drink, why stick our noses into this? The gold in the mine isn’t going to be divided up and handed to us, is it? Let Commander Zhong be the one to lose sleep over it.”

“And yet you still got rewarded for that anonymous tip,” He Lingchuan pointed out.

“That I did.” Skinny was smug, about to start bragging about his hawk eyes and keen instincts again, when a startled scream erupted outside, followed by a howl.

It sounded half like a wolf and half like a wailing ghost. In any case, it was not human. It made one’s scalp prickle and one’s hands itch to cover one’s ears.

He Lingchuan and Skinny exchanged a look, then sprinted out in perfect unison.

* * *

Wen Daolun stepped out of the Martial Review Hall, and two guards immediately fell in behind him.

He patted his sleeve, then realized that he had forgotten something important. “Ah, how did I forget to bring my lecture notes?” He pointed at one guard. “You. Go back to my residence and fetch them. They’re on the desk in my study. The header says ‘Hall of Inquiry.’”

The guard acknowledged and strode off at once.

“I’m getting old,” Wen Daolun muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead. “How am I supposed to talk for a full two hours at the Hall of Inquiry without notes?”

Wen Xing glanced back at the Martial Review Hall, his face full of longing. “I wonder when I’ll finally be qualified to enter the northern courtyard and compete there.”

“Focus on performing well in the patrol guards first,” Wen Daolun said. What he was really thinking of, though, was his elderly mother’s repeated warnings that the Panlong Wasteland was far too dangerous. She wanted Wen Xing stationed on the Chipa Highland as a patrol guard, nothing more.

Old women thought only of family matters. Fewer merits did not matter to them; safety was viewed with much greater importance.

Wen Xing hesitated and said, “If I join the patrol guards, won’t that make people talk about you, Father?”

“Appointing one’s own kin is not something to be ashamed of,” Wen Daolun said, patting his youngest son on the shoulder. “You passed the martial exam. You’re entering openly and legitimately. What is there for others to gossip about?” He sighed long and hard after saying it.

Wen Xing blinked. “What’s wrong, Father?”

Wen Daolun said with feeling, “If everyone had the heart of an innocent child, how could Panlong City have so many troubles?”

The Wen Residence was close to the Martial Review Hall’s back gate, so the father and son simply strolled along the waterside while waiting for the guard to return with the notes.

Panlong City had seven or eight canals that had countless branches. Unlike the hot spring waters near South Gate Square, most of these waterways froze solid in this weather, a thick layer of ice forming at the surface.

As they crossed a small bridge, a slab of gray stone larger than a millstone lay crouched at the base of the bridge pier. It was a strange sight, but passersby paid it no mind.

Who would pay attention to some broken rock under a bridge?

Yet as Wen Daolun walked past, the “stone” suddenly moved, sprouting limbs, long legs, a head, and even a tail in the blink of an eye.

Like a gust of wind, the creature shot out from beneath the bridge and lunged straight at Wen Daolun, slamming into him. In the same motion, it reached to wrench his head off.

Its hands were like eagle talons, the tendons on the backs of them bulging like iron rods. To kill a spellcaster like Wen Daolun would take only a single crisp crack.

Fortunately, though Wen Daolun staggered under the impact, a streak of white light flashed before his chest. Frostflower illusions appeared in the air, and the creature was violently repelled and sent smashing into the bridge.

A protective magical artifact had been triggered.

Nearby passersby screamed and scattered instinctively, fleeing in all directions.

Ice had formed on the creature’s claws and around its jaws. Only now did its figure become clear to see. It was something between a monkey and a cat, but completely hairless. After it struck the wooden bridge, its body naturally darkened into a deep brown.

It appeared that it could change color. It was a master of camouflage.

The creature shook itself, and the ice that had formed on its body shattered at once. The remaining guard rushed forward to attack, while Wen Xing pulled his father back.

However, the creature was insanely fast, so fast that it was hard to track with the naked eye.

The guard held on for seven or eight breaths before the creature’s tail whipped out and sent him flying.

Wen Daolun seized the opening and flicked out five bamboo talismans. Four yellow talismans planted themselves around the creature, while the fifth—an azure-colored one—hung above it, suspended about a meter and a half overhead.

After flinging the guard aside, the creature charged at Wen Daolun again. It took only two steps before an invisible wall rebounded it.

Each collision left a faint white mark on the unseen barrier. Then the area of its body that struck the wall quickly frosted over, forming a solid wall of ice. If the ice was not removed quickly, it spread, creeping toward full-body coverage.

This Five-Talisman Prison was a kind of Marked Ground Prison[1]. Wen Daolun had fused it with a freezing spell, making it even more effective at restraining an enemy.

The more frenziedly the creature slammed into the wall, the more ice it accumulated, and the less agile it became.

But no one noticed that, in the dark alley behind the Wen father and son, a bug crawled out in complete silence.

Calling it a bug was misleading. It was larger than an adult man’s palm, shaped like a cricket, but with a head that came to a sharp conical point.

It hopped forward a few steps, aimed at Wen Daolun’s back, and it fired three spikes!

Wen Xing turned his head at exactly the wrong moment and saw it emerge from the shadow of a wall crack to strike. Without thinking, he lunged to shield his father.

Then, with three soft sounds, all three spikes buried themselves in Wen Xing.

Wen Daolun whirled in shock and caught his son, pulling him into his arms.

The cricket-like creature adjusted its angle, re-aiming at Wen Daolun’s forehead.

But just as it was about to fire again, a figure appeared right behind it. It did not even realize that someone had arrived before the saber light ultimately reached it.

He Lingchuan had arrived.

He saw the creature tuck its head and tense into the firing posture. The distance was more than three meters, which was a bit far for comfort, but there was no time for hesitation. He sent a sweeping slash through the air.

The branches on the ground ahead did not move in the slightest, yet the creature’s forehead suddenly split open. The spike forming at the tip of its head and the spikes that were about to be launched were cleaved neatly in two by a faintly gleaming arc of saber light.

Splat!

It burst into a spray of green slurry.

He Lingchuan did not spare the aftermath a glance. He immediately moved to Wen Xing and sealed the acupoints near the wounds to slow whatever was spreading.

“Xing’er!” Wen Daolun’s mind was entirely on his son. His Five-Talisman Prison loosened at once, and the trapped creature broke free with a single strong charge.

At the same time, Gale Army soldiers from the Martial Review Hall rushed over in force. Some attacked, while others formed up to protect the Wen father and son.

The creature tried two more pounces, but it was suppressed by brute force, taking several fresh wounds in the process.

Surrounded by fourteen or fifteen Gale Army soldiers, it could not properly use its strengths, no matter how capable it was.

Seeing that it could not emerge the victor in this encounter, it stopped lingering and turned to leap into the river.

The ice on the river was thick, but the water beneath still flowed. With its camouflage talent, once it entered the water, it had a good chance of escaping.

But while it was still airborne, a long spear shot in like lightning. The creature had no choice but to raise an arm to block.

Xiao Maoliang had arrived, striking in force.

Thunk.

Its left arm was pinned to the bridge.

The creature shrieked, twisted violently twice, and its left forearm actually tore off on its own. It tried to leap into the river anyway, but the Gale Army fired three or four grappling hooks, hooking it and dragging it back off the ice.

“Ferry-crossing ghostspawn!” Wen Daolun’s face went ashen. “How are there still two more?”

Panlong City had clearly killed nine ghostspawn already.

As the creature continued to roar, its severed arm stump was visibly healing little by little.

Wen Daolun said to He Lingchuan, “Cut off its other arm. Break its leg bones.”

He Lingchuan’s saber descended.

Green blood splattered as the creature lost another arm, and its leg was snapped.

The treasured saber’s sharpness drew amazed clicks of the tongue from nearby soldiers. This creature’s hide was absurdly thick. Many of them carried magical artifacts, yet they still failed to break its defenses.

Wen Daolun immediately shoved a crystal into one of the creature’s wounds, ignoring how the green blood corroded his fingers. Then he pulled out a bamboo talisman and handed it to Xiao Maoliang. “When a ferry-crossing spawn is badly injured, it will return to its mother. Take this tracking talisman. When you’re close to the crystal, it will light up!”

Xiao Maoliang understood at once. Only after he personally saw the talisman emit light did he signal for the men to let the creature go.

Freed, the ferry-crossing spawn let out a savage howl and plunged into the water.

Xiao Maoliang led men in immediate pursuit.

Meanwhile, Wen Daolun stuffed several life-saving pills into his son’s mouth, then scooped him up and rushed into the Martial Review Hall’s central tower, which was where fighters normally rested. This was the structure that separated the northern and southern courtyards.

It was the closest place with beds, medicine, and a physician.

The entire Martial Review Hall erupted into chaos.

A’Luo came out of nowhere, as if he had crawled out of some corner. He checked Wen Xing’s pulse, exchanged a few quick words with his colleagues, then bolted out, shouting as he ran, “Move! Move! Someone’s life is on the line! Don’t block the way!”

He actually jumped onto a carriage and drove off.

Seeing Wen Daolun’s blank, fixed stare, He Lingchuan knew things were bad.

Wen Xing had already fallen unconscious. The blood spilling from the corner of his mouth was green.

Wen Daolun wiped it again and again, one hand pressing hard against his own forehead as if trying to keep himself from splitting apart.

“Thank you for earlier,” he said, somehow still able to spare attention for gratitude.

If not for He Lingchuan, he would have followed his son. Father and son might have been lying side by side right now.

There were too many people inside the Martial Review Hall. Wen Daolun grew irritated and drove most of them out. Only He Lingchuan and two guards remained.

The three spikes had been pulled free and set aside.

He Lingchuan studied them. Each was only about the length of a toothpick, yet they bore woody grain, with spiral cracks on the surface like bark.

The little creature that fired them lay on a tray nearby. From how it felt when he struck it, it was not particularly durable. Its abilities seemed almost entirely built for ambush.

The room fell into sudden silence.

Wen Daolun stayed by his son’s side, eyes fixed on Wen Xing’s face as if he could not look away. From time to time, he murmured to himself.

His words were blurred and indistinct. He Lingchuan only caught fragments: “Could it be... happening at this time...?”

Not long after, A’Luo returned, bringing reinforcements.

He had brought his adoptive father, Helian Chen, the Grand Apothecary of the Bureau of Medicine.

Helian Chen entered the Martial Review Hall and did not even have time to exchange greetings with Wen Daolun before he began treating Wen Xing.

Once Wen Xing’s clothes were opened further, the situation looked even worse. The blood seeping from the wounds was now a pure, vivid green. The skin around the injuries had hardened and turned brittle, shifting into an iron-gray tone. Fine fissures spread across it.

Simply put, his skin was turning into bark or lignifying.

One spike had been blocked by Wen Xing’s raised arm, one struck his abdomen, and the last hit his leg.

All three of these areas now showed this bark-like transformation, slowly creeping outward.

A strange fragrance also permeated the air. He Lingchuan could not quite name it, but it smelled a bit like honey and a bit like pine resin.

A scent this pleasant, rising from a wound this grotesque, only made the scene feel more unnatural.

Helian Chen finally stepped back, and only then did Wen Daolun lunge toward him, his voice tight as he asked, “How is he?”

1. What I translated as Marked Ground Prison is actually just the idiom 画地为牢, which is typically translated as “draw a circle on the ground to serve as a prison—restrict somebody’s activities to a designated area of sphere.” I’m not exactly sure as to the specifics of its origins, but it seems to have come from early Han-period moral and legal thinking, where the idiom described the key idea of a person being so bound by honor, law, or moral obligation that a mere boundary drawn on the ground is enough to restrain them. ☜