HPDBC Chapter 138: The Mountain God Descends, Delivering Punishment
Chapter 138: The Mountain God Descends, Delivering Punishment
Chapter 138: The Mountain God Descends, Delivering Punishment
The autumn wind howled through the mountains and forests as Zhen Qin and the others followed Xuanmiao Zhenren forward.
Xuanmiao Zhenren walked at the front, leaving a trail of blood in his wake, causing those behind him to feel great concern. However, they knew that offering comfort was pointless—they could only try not to disturb him.
Boom!
A deafening explosion echoed from the distance, and a raging wind swept through, toppling trees. Everyone hurriedly mobilized their spiritual energy to withstand the shockwave.
Xuanmiao Zhenren raised his sword to block, his Transformation Stage cultivation absorbing most of the pressure.
Yet, he couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood, making the disciples of the Taixuan Sect’s Law Enforcement Hall behind him even more anxious.
A few breaths later, the storm subsided. Xuanmiao Zhenren staggered and fell to one knee, using his sword to steady himself.
The surrounding forest lay in ruins, fallen trees and scattered debris painting a scene of devastation.
Zhen Qin and the others quickly gathered around, deeply worried about Xuanmiao Zhenren’s condition.
Since he had saved them, they had endured battle after battle daily, leaving him no time to recover. His injuries had only worsened.
Xuanmiao Zhenren lifted his head, his pale face filled with frustration. Clenching his teeth, he said, “The enemy is coming—everyone, sit down and meditate!”
The group obeyed without hesitation.
After spending the past few days together, they had developed absolute trust in Xuanmiao Zhenren. Without him, they would have died long ago.
Xuanmiao Zhenren took a deep breath and said in a low voice, “Call upon the Mountain God in your hearts. Pray for his intervention!”
He had no other choice. His spiritual energy was insufficient to use the Gate of Divine Summoning again.
His only hope was the Mountain God.
Although they were far from where the Mountain God resided, he firmly believed that the deity would sense their plea.
Upon hearing his words, some disciples hesitated, and a few even grew agitated.
“This isn’t the time to pray—shouldn’t we be running?!”
“Exactly! The world is in chaos, battles rage everywhere. We might be able to escape in the confusion.”
“We can take turns carrying you, Master. We will find a way out!”
“We can’t just sit here and wait for death!”
“If a Mountain God really existed, would the White Nightshade Sect be allowed to run rampant?”
As they argued, the immense pressure of an approaching force became more evident.
Xuanmiao Zhenren cut through their panic with a stern voice, “There is no escape. They’ve already locked onto us. Meditate now, as I instructed—there is still a sliver of hope. If you delay and let them capture you, you will neither live nor die.”
At his words, the disciples clenched their jaws and sat down.
Zhen Qin, seated among them, shut her eyes and began calling out to the Mountain God in her heart.
She refused to die here!
Even Xuanmiao Zhenren sighed, raising his gaze to the sky. His eyes grew calm.
“Disappointed?”
A voice rang in Xuanmiao Zhenren’s ears.
He turned sharply, his eyes widening in shock and joy.
“Mountain God!”
The disciples, hearing these words, followed his gaze.
When they saw what was on Xuanmiao Zhenren’s shoulder, their eyes widened in disbelief.
A small figure in white stood on his left shoulder, wearing an opera mask.
He wasn’t even as tall as Xuanmiao Zhenren’s ear!
Some disciples thought they were seeing things, rubbing their eyes in disbelief.
Above them, the wooden staff elder frowned deeply, noticing the tiny figure as well.
The White Nightshade Sect cultivators whispered among themselves. They had never seen such a small person before, and when they tried to probe with their divine sense, they couldn’t perceive his true form—nor did he emit any demonic aura.
Gu An leaped from Xuanmiao Zhenren’s shoulder onto a nearby crooked tree.
Xuanmiao Zhenren immediately knelt. “Mountain God, please save us! The White Nightshade Sect commits countless atrocities, even seeking to sacrifice the people of the Nine Dynasties. Such evil must not go unpunished—please, save the innocent!”
The disciples followed suit, kneeling in reverence.
Zhen Qin, too, bowed. Strangely, she felt an inexplicable sense of closeness toward the small figure in white.
“Mountain God? Ha! Pretending to be divine? I advise you to stay out of this,” the wooden staff elder sneered.
Gu An ignored the Transformation Stage cultivator’s threat.
Instead, he turned to Xuanmiao Zhenren and said indifferently, “The Mountain God does not save all beings—only his land. You are not of this land, and yet you ask for my aid? That defies the laws of the Immortal Dao.”
Xuanmiao Zhenren quickly replied, “If you help us, we will offer tribute to you!”
“Hm. Sincerity moves the divine.”
Gu An finally turned to the wooden staff elder and raised his right hand, palm facing upward.
The earth trembled violently.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Massive roots burst from the ground like writhing serpents, surging toward the sky.
The wooden staff elder dodged in alarm, but his subordinates were not as fortunate—one by one, they were impaled, their bodies torn apart, blood raining from above.
The suffocating demonic energy was instantly dispelled, and sunlight poured down once more.
Zhen Qin and the others, witnessing the spectacle, were left utterly speechless.