Chapter 361: 妖仙

General You had already drawn his bow and arrow. The savage beast leaped high, seemed to pause momentarily, suspended in mid-air. At that moment, its master pulled the bowstring taut and let an arrow fly.

The arrowhead glowed with a flickering purple light, condensed with primal energy. The shot was like a meteor chasing the moon. Given the red bird's large size, how could it possibly miss?

However, in a moment of crisis, the bird suddenly lunged upwards, shifting the bronze mirror it carried. The arrow, aimed at its heart, struck its wing root instead.

The red bird appeared to be in immense pain, letting out a mournful cry as it plummeted from the sky.

At this point, the pure beast also descended from its high perch. General You, looking down from above, shifted his gaze directly to He Lingchuan, a ruthless glint in his eyes.

"This is big trouble," the young man hissed, turning to flee.

What would be the point of staying and winning? Why should he bother fighting paper figures?

But having learned from the red bird's fate, he quickly ducked and leaped into the canopy of a large tree, ensuring General You wouldn't greet him with another arrow.

General You pointed in the direction He Lingchuan had fled. "Capture the enemy general," he commanded, "dead or alive!"

His guards responded with a shout, spurred their horses, and gave chase.

"What the hell, how am *I* an 'enemy general'?" He Lingchuan cursed, guessing with ninety percent certainty that the High Priestess was behind this mischief.

As he fled, he overheard General You say, "Thank you for your assistance, Senior Brother Qingxu!"

"Just doing what I can!" the arcanist in mid-air snorted. "These demon immortals are too brazen; if they aren't taught a lesson, they'll keep coming back!"

Senior Brother Qingxu? Demon Immortals?

He Lingchuan silently made a note of those two terms.

Were General You and Qingxu fellow disciples from the same sect?

Furthermore, the language they spoke was ancient and different from the modern tongue. Had He Lingchuan not diligently studied it, practicing regularly with Sun Fuling and taking tests, he likely wouldn't have understood a word.

Yes, they were speaking the ancient immortal language!

To this day, hardly anyone alive knows how to use it.

These specters were performing so convincingly; if they repeatedly pretend something is real, would it actually become true?

The cavalry behind him were surprisingly swift. Several times he had close calls and was nearly caught.

If not for the labyrinthine streets and buildings, He Lingchuan truly wouldn't have been able to escape them. Finally, he simply leaped into a burning mansion. The cavalry couldn't follow, so they reined in their horses, circled the perimeter, and, finding no trace of him, returned to report.

Only after they left did He Lingchuan emerge from the inferno.

He wore the divine bone necklace, which made him immune to the scorching flames, even the red bird's true fire.

His face, however, was inevitably blackened by the smoke.

The building was reduced to ash and collapsed in moments. No one dared to stand nearby, so he quickly left the scene.

After a desperate chase and escape, He Lingchuan finally had a moment to consider his predicament.

Earlier, he had been moments away from reaching the Gan Residence and apprehending Third Master Gan. Why had the High Priestess simply waved her hand and transported him seemingly out of thin air to this battlefield?

It was obvious that even in this eerie place, the High Priestess couldn't instantly kill him. Otherwise, why would she bother with all these theatrics?

The last image he had received through the eyeball spider was Third Master Gan finalizing his pact with the High Priestess, who then instantly turned to dust.

Truly, there's no reasoning with a damned soul.

Third Master Gan knew perfectly well the High Priestess had a sinister background, yet he went through with it anyway.

Ultimately, he succumbed to his own fear.

He Lingchuan recalled the recent battle in the city. The red bird's destructive power was astonishing; it could easily summon numerous fire tornadoes, as if it alone could challenge an entire city. He wondered if even the great demons of the Northern Demon Kingdom possessed such abilities.

As for Qingxu and the other six being able to fly, that was clearly beyond the capabilities of modern arcanists. In this era of depleted spiritual energy, what arcanist could still fly?

Moreover, they referred to the red bird as a "demon immortal." Could it be...?

A bold theory began to form in He Lingchuan's mind. And right, the paper figure he had slain earlier in the Purple Bamboo Garden had claimed to be a centurion under General You.

Does that mean the specters on both sides originated from the same source?

Yes, he needed to leave as soon as possible.

Just then, he spotted another commotion ahead: several riders were fleeing, pursued by the Lin Army.

Odd, familiar faces were appearing in this peculiar setting.

He Lingchuan instantly recognized the fleeing figures as Wu Jinsong and his companions.

However, where there had once been seven or eight of them, only three remained.

"Over here!" he called out to Wu Jinsong.

Hearing his call, the three men spurred their horses towards him, with their pursuers close behind.

Relying on his divine bone necklace, which rendered him immune to fire, He Lingchuan leaped into the blazing building. Channeling true power into his feet, he stomped violently on two large logs.

Just as Wu Jinsong rode past He Lingchuan, he heard a tremendous crash. Turning back, he saw massive, burning timbers plummeting from above, accurately smashing onto the heads of their pursuers!

The soldiers in the rear quickly reined in their horses, no longer daring to advance.

The massive timbers then exploded in two bursts, sending sparks flying in every direction.

Yet, one figure emerged from the inferno, as if strolling through a garden, utterly unafraid of the raging flames behind him.

Wu Jinsong and his companions stared in stunned silence.

Even with their senses dulled, they couldn't help but exclaim, "This kid is truly amazing!"

However, He Lingchuan's moment of glory lasted barely three seconds, as another massive log burned through and crashed down.

He leaped onto the back of Wu Jinsong's horse. "Go, quickly!" he urged. Why were these idiots standing there stunned? They were wasting the precious time he'd gained for them.

The four of them galloped away frantically.

After countless twists and turns, they had ridden over a li away. The sounds of battle faded, and with no pursuers behind them, Wu Jinsong and his companions finally slowed their horses.

He Lingchuan asked, "How did you get in here?" These men had just been rescued; it was as if they were deliberately walking into trouble.

"We searched around the lake for a while but found no clues, and feeling tired and exhausted, we wanted to find lodging in the county," Wu Jinsong explained. "We've been trapped in here for days with almost no food or water, so it's no wonder we're tired and thirsty. We entered this place right after coming down the mountain, and we've already lost four brothers."

There had been seven of them initially, but four were killed because they were outnumbered.

"You didn't enter Wuzhe County first?"

"No."

He Lingchuan now roughly understood. What he had entered earlier was likely not the real Wuzhe County either, but a strange space similar to this battlefield.

The question was, how could they get out?

"Whether it's an illusion array or a labyrinthine space, there will always be a flaw, a sliver of an exit," he stated. "This isn't due to the caster's benevolence, but a fundamental rule; without an escape route, the space itself cannot be constructed." He then asked the cavalrymen, "As you rode here, did you notice anything discordant or out of place compared to the outside world?"

Wu Jinsong gave a wry smile. "Everything here is different from the outside world," he replied. "Everything is discordant."

"Is the outside world normally engulfed in such raging warfare?"

"I initially entered Wuzhe County," He Lingchuan mused, "and was only transported here when I was about to stop Third Master Gan from making his pact with the High Priestess. Why wasn't I thrown in here from the very beginning?"

"Was it easier for it to kill you in Wuzhe County?" Wu Jinsong asked.

"That means this battlefield wasn't its first choice. Could it be because... it's difficult to control?" He Lingchuan looked at the city engulfed in flames. "The specters here are very much immersed in their roles, each playing their own part. Perhaps they don't respond well to its commands?"

Wu Jinsong looked even more confused. "What specters?" he asked. He might have lost his soul, but his intelligence hadn't diminished, so why couldn't he understand?

He Lingchuan observed their expressions, confirming his suspicion: only he could perceive the specters and paper figures running rampant, while others were deceived.

Just as he was about to speak, he let out a gasp of surprise.

The eyeball spider was suddenly moving away!

Previously, preoccupied with navigating the battlefield, he hadn't switched perspectives again, but he had always maintained a faint sense of the eyeball spider's location and distance.

Its location, without a doubt, had been incredibly erratic—sometimes to the east, sometimes to the west. He Lingchuan hadn't been able to follow its trail, as if he were at the center of a circle and Third Master Gan were moving along its outer perimeter.

But just then, he felt the distance between himself and the eyeball spider suddenly increase, to the point where their connection became almost imperceptible.

Was the signal bad? Where had it gone?

He Lingchuan immediately switched his perspective.

The eyeball spider was still clinging to Third Master Gan. From its vantage point, the scenery was no longer the Gan family mansion.

There was a bamboo grove, wild grass, a semi-ruined small building, and behind it, a pool of clear green water—

It seemed Third Master Gan had actually returned to the side of Lake Mochou!

He slowly walked back to the small building, straightened a chair, sat down at the table, and then placed the mirror on it.

The mirror?

At this moment, the eyeball spider had quietly crawled onto Third Master Gan's shoulder. From its angle looking down, it had a clear view of the bronze mirror:

The mirror's surface was no longer a plain yellowish hue. Instead, it showed a scene of flames and black smoke swirling, and demon beasts battling armies.

It looked less like a mirror and more like a screen.

The scene was incredibly familiar—wasn't it the very battlefield he was currently on? Except Third Master Gan had a global, overhead perspective. A realization dawned on He Lingchuan:

So, he was *inside* the mirror?

He suddenly recalled two specific details:

When he had rushed into the Gan Residence courtyard earlier, the enormous white jade screen wall depicted a scene of flowers beneath the moon, but one side was completely blank.

This was illogical.

The purpose of a screen wall, beyond obscuring the view behind it and creating a sense of a winding, secluded path, often included engraved paintings or inscriptions to add interest. When the He family moved twice, Madam Ying had always paid particular attention to the screen walls.

That screen wall had a painting, but where were the words?

A painting without an inscription was like a beautiful woman going out without makeup—who would recognize her true essence?

Earlier, he had leaped over the screen wall without much time to observe. But as he clung to the round moon gate, he had instinctively glanced down and noticed a line of crooked, small characters:

*Mo Er was here.*

It was located at the very base of the gate wall, obscured by greenery, seemingly written with charcoal. He didn't know how long it had been there. If He Lingchuan hadn't been looking down from a high vantage point, he would have missed it entirely.

Most importantly, the characters were reversed.

It was like writing words on his hand and then looking in a mirror; the reflection would show the words reversed.

Pondering this, he realized that after he had returned to Wuzhe County, he hadn't seen a single plaque, sign, or couplet. Even the sign for the Purple Bamboo Garden had been completely obscured by swaying bamboo branches.

Now, it dawned on him: the mirror's owner hadn't wanted him to discover the secrets within.

But even the most meticulous plan can have an oversight. The small inscription on the round moon gate had gone unnoticed by the mirror's owner, and thus, remained un-erased.

But that had been in Wuzhe County.

"Go that way!" He Lingchuan looked around, then gestured to Wu Jinsong to ride towards a nearby five-story pagoda.