parentshiftbook Chapter 98 Evening Class
Chapter 98 Evening Class
Seeing the other party hesitate, Wen Haoran simply moved a chair over and sat down on the city wall.
He opened the bamboo slips and began his evening prayers.
The sound of reading aloud rang out on the battlefield, each word clearly reaching the ears of every monster on the other side of the moat.
The middle-aged scholar frequently glanced towards the open city gate.
The five three-tailed foxes lay motionless with their forelegs lowered.
The horde of monsters lingered in front of the suspension bridge, but dared not step onto it.
Wen Haoran read for an hour, then looked up and glanced at the middle-aged scholar.
"If you don't fight, I'm going to bed."
The more nonchalant Wen Haoran appeared, the less the middle-aged scholar dared to make a move.
If he didn't make a move, the three-tailed fox wouldn't dare to either.
The seemingly endless horde of beasts stopped on the opposite bank of the moat, their dark golden pupils fixed on the young man sitting in a chair on the city wall, flipping through bamboo slips.
Until midnight.
An eagle flew in from the direction of the Evernight Forest, circled overhead for a long time, and then landed beside the middle-aged scholar.
The middle-aged scholar listened intently for a moment, then his expression changed drastically.
He suddenly raised his head, his gaze fixed on Wen Haoran, the extremely faint dark golden light membrane in his eyes churning violently.
Then he let out a low growl that was not human.
Within a radius of ten miles, there was no trace of powerful martial artists.
It's obvious he was scammed.
He charged towards the city gate first, filled with anger.
Five three-tailed foxes behind him rose at the same time, their three tails unfurling in the moonlight, and the dark golden orbs at the tips of their tails spinning at an abruptly faster speed.
The seemingly endless horde of beasts surged toward the suspension bridge like a flood bursting its banks.
Wen Haoran stood up and pushed the chair aside.
"Close the city gates."
The winch creaked and the drawbridge was barely raised before the monster stepped onto it.
The iron-clad city gates slowly closed with a heavy, muffled thud.
He turned around and instructed all martial artists below the Core Formation stage to stand by.
The Zhao family, the Cui family, the Ye family, the Quan family, and the disciples of various martial arts schools all remained on the city wall.
He especially instructed Lin Mu to stay on the city wall and not to go down yet.
Lin Mu asked him, "Are the four of you okay?"
Wen Haoran gently tapped the bamboo slip in his palm.
"That's fine for now."
Lin Mu did not ask any further questions.
He was happy to hide on the city wall, which would not only ensure his survival but also allow him to observe the original imprint.
Wen Haoran, holding bamboo slips, stepped onto the battlefield.
Duanmu Hong followed closely behind, his plain black robe fluttering in the night wind, his right hand clenched loosely, and a blue light wall silently unfolded in front of him.
Two guards flanked him, one on each side, their long swords drawn, the blades gleaming coldly white in the moonlight.
Wen Haoran opened the bamboo slips.
Pure white light seeped from each ink character, extremely faint and thin, like the first line of dawn on the horizon.
He pushed the bamboo slip forward.
The light flowed down silently, skimming the surface of the city wall, overflowing the crenellations, the moat, and all the climbing monsters.
Wherever the light flowed, the bodies of the Mingjin monsters turned to ashes in patches.
The wolf's mane was torn to shreds.
The bristles of the tusked boar are curled and charred black.
The blood python's scales peeled off one by one.
They were swallowed up by the stream of light before they could even let out a scream.
The Dark Force Beast struggled in the stream of light for even longer.
Their fur was scorched black, and their flesh melted in the light, but they still roared and charged forward.
They rushed into the depths of the light stream, only to be scorched to ashes by the even denser and more intense righteous energy.
The beast, now at the Transformation Realm, was slowed down by the overwhelming aura, its dark gold patterns flashing violently under the flow of light.
Each attack was like going against the current; before the fist even reached three feet in front of Wen Haoran, it was deflected by the pure white light.
Only by condensing the elixir can one achieve this.
Five three-tailed foxes stood proudly amidst the righteous aura, their three tails swirling in front of them to form halos, blocking the flow of light from their bodies.
Their speed was reduced by at least 30%, and their dark golden light was dimmer than before, but they were still capable of fighting.
The four of them then engaged in a fierce battle with the demon army.
Wen Haoran stood in the very center, with the rubbing of the Wanmin Book suspended in mid-air, its pages fluttering in the night wind.
He recited, "Heaven and earth possess righteous energy, which manifests in myriad forms. Below, it becomes rivers and mountains; above, it becomes the sun and stars. In man, it is called the vast and righteous spirit, filling the boundless sky..."
The pure white light flowed like an inverted Milky Way, washing over, burning, and purifying the monster horde layer by layer.
Duanmu Hong was on his left, with the blue light wall slowly circulating in front of him. His right hand was clenched with five fingers, and with each collapse of the suction force, several Transformation Realm demonic beasts were forcibly pulled in front of him, and then smashed into dust with a palm.
Two guards flanked Wen Haoran from the left and right, their long swords flashing as they cleaved the monster that tried to flank them in two.
The four of them stood back to back, moving slowly amidst the horde of monsters, each step landing on the corpses of the monsters.
Under the moonlight, the four figures appeared extremely small and lonely, while countless demonic beasts lay dead at their feet.
Lin Mu stood on the city wall and observed.
He gazed intently at the trajectory of each of the three-tailed fox's tails from afar, attempting to replicate the original imprint into the myriad techniques of martial arts.
"Observation complete. Replicating the Three-Tailed Fox Origin Mark is now possible. Replicating?"
"Yes."
He closed his eyes, and a warm current flowed through his body.
However, the demonic source of the Core Formation Realm was too strong; the myriad methods of martial arts could only capture the original imprint of one of the fox tails.
That fox tail that can sever the field.
[Three-Tailed Fox Origin Mark: 20/100]
But no matter how he examined the remaining two fox tails and the marks on its body, there was no reaction.
He gradually figured out the pattern.
At the same or lower level, all martial arts techniques can be quickly replicated.
How much someone with a higher level of understanding can replicate depends entirely on how much they can comprehend.
He couldn't perceive even a trace of Wen Haoran's righteous spirit.
The bamboo scroll hung in mid-air, its pure white light flowing like an inverted Milky Way, burning the demonic beasts to ashes in droves.
The martial arts manual lay quietly deep within my mind, without generating any heat, without any prompts, and without any reaction from beginning to end.
The battle lasted for two hours.
During those two hours, the middle-aged scholar commanded five fox demons to capture Wen Haoran by first capturing the leader, but the two guards and Duanmu Hong risked their lives to protect him.
Wen Haoran was unharmed.
Until midnight.
The black mist from the direction of the Eternal Night Forest suddenly began to move towards the source of the river.
It was a very thick and dark fog, like ink poured into water, swirling and spreading in the night wind.
The black mist gradually swallowed the moonlight on the wasteland.
Wherever the black mist passed, the dark gold patterns on the monsters' bodies suddenly brightened.
His movements, which had been suppressed by the righteous energy, became agile again.
The wounds scalded by the light stream slowly healed in the black mist.
The middle-aged scholar's face lit up with joy.
He stood at the edge of the black mist, arms outstretched, as if welcoming a belated baptism.
The black mist surged from behind him like a living thing, overflowing the moat, the city walls, and the lingering, burning aura of righteousness on the battlefield.
Wen Haoran's aura of righteousness was gradually compressed under the pressure of the black mist.
The area was reduced from tens of feet in radius to within ten feet.
The pure white light appeared extremely faint in the thick black fog, like an oil lamp that could be blown out by the wind at any moment.
The black fog grew thicker and thicker, eventually engulfing the four of them.
Rain began to fall from the sky.