Chapter Seventy-Six: A Roar Toward the Heavens (Supplementary Chapter for Last Night)

The behavior of that wretched Taoist chilled my heart. Weren’t monks and priests supposed to be compassionate? Wait… do Taoists count as ascetics? Never mind. Survival was all that mattered—Wang Ying was still waiting for me at home.

If this had happened before, I would have been terrified by such a scene. But now, I felt no fear at all. With my Thunder Palm, I could turn them all into minced meat in an instant.

“So, rotten Taoist, is this your idea of a fair contest?” I glared at the Taoist standing by the cave entrance, itching to slap him.

“Victory goes to the king, defeat to the scoundrel. You can’t blame me for this. I may have renounced worldly affairs, but I can’t escape reality. Besides, you’re the one with the Three-Foot Dragon Abyss,” he said indifferently, standing there.

I finally saw him for what he was—a petty, self-serving man. If I didn’t teach them a lesson today, they’d never realize there’s always someone stronger out there. “Since you put it that way, don’t blame me for showing no mercy.” I sheathed the Three-Foot Dragon Abyss behind me, planted my feet, lowered my stance, and gathered all my strength from the ground to my dantian, then channeled it into my right arm. Everything was ready.

“Go ahead, I’ve already suppressed the demonic energy around him,” the Taoist ordered from the side.

A furious storm raged in my heart. So much for an honorable duel—he’d lured me into this cave, and it was clearly a premeditated trap. The cave was halfway up the mountain, the ground covered in loose earth. If these people finished me off today, no one would ever find me. By the time I was discovered, there’d probably be nothing left but a pile of bones. My family was in Shandong, now I was in Jiangsu—my father, mother, and uncle wouldn’t know where to look. Wang Ying had only days left to live. If I died, no one would even come searching. But in this clear and open world, I refused to believe they’d dare to kill so wantonly.

“What do you want, rotten Taoist? This is a law-abiding society!” I readied myself for anything.

“I don’t want anything. This is your grudge, not mine. I just want your Three-Foot Dragon Abyss,” he said bluntly.

“If you want it, come and get it!” I patted the hilt behind me.

He hesitated for a moment, then actually walked over. His greedy expression made me want to blast him with Thunder Palm right then and there. But I couldn’t—not in a society governed by law. One must be kind, but also abide by the law.

“Hand it over!” The Taoist reached out his hand in front of me.

“I’ll show you something first. After that, you can have the sword.” I didn’t need to use Thunder Palm on him, but I had to teach him a lesson. With a flick of my right hand, I sent a powerful strike into the cave wall.

A wave of energy shot out—boom! The Thunder Palm blasted a huge hole in the wall. The cave was damp, so there wasn’t much dust, but stones and earth rained down everywhere.

The Taoist was dumbstruck, frozen in place. He’d known I kept little ghosts, and he knew I hadn’t brought any with me this time, but he never imagined I had such a devastating trump card. His mouth hung open in a daze, and he didn’t even notice when his horsetail whisk fell from his hand.

The unluckiest was the bald man—a shard from the explosion struck his head, and blood ran down his face.

“Hey, do you still want the Three-Foot Dragon Abyss?” I sneered, nudging the Taoist’s arm with my finger.

“I… I… you… you…” He stammered, pointing behind me.

Damn it! Still thinking about my sword at a time like this?

“Behind you,” he gasped, whirling around to run. The pack of thugs at the entrance bolted after him in a panic.

Now they realized how dangerous I was. I was about to follow them out when a blast of wind swept past me, and a red shadow shot out of the cave, streaking toward the entrance at such speed that I couldn’t even see what it was—only a flash of red light.

By the entrance stood a monstrous beast.

Its entire body was covered in red fur, larger than a wild boar or a tiger, with antlers, huge eyes, a gaping maw, two whiskers fluttering in the wind, and scales glinting beneath the fur. It crouched half-sitting, blocking everyone inside the cave.

What on earth was that? I’d never seen anything like it—not even after visiting the provincial zoo with my uncle. Tigers, lions, elephants, leopards—I’d seen them all, but not this creature.

How unlucky! I’d just subdued this bunch with Thunder Palm, only to shake this thing out of hiding—now I was in real trouble.

Roar!

While I stood there, unsure what to do, the beast opened its blood-red mouth and let out a thunderous roar. A wave of foul stench hit me, making my ears ache from the blast.

The thugs, trapped at the entrance, fled back into the cave, wailing in terror.

Perhaps because I had Thunder Palm for protection, I didn’t feel particularly afraid. I shouted, “Don’t go deeper inside!” If they ran further in, there’d be no hope of survival. We had to find a way to break out of the cave.

These idiots—dragging me here, did they not know there was a monster inside? No matter how I shouted, no one listened. In a flash, the whole group had retreated into the depths, leaving only the Taoist and me at the entrance.

The Taoist slowly climbed to his feet, his face ashen. Clearly, he hadn’t expected things to take this turn. Straightening up, he suddenly spun around, flicked his wrist, and sent three cold flashes flying at the red beast.

With three sharp hisses, the projectiles stabbed into the beast, causing it to shudder and shrink visibly. Its maw closed slightly.

So the Taoist did have some skill—though I couldn’t tell what technique or weapon he’d used. Seeing the beast subdued, his arrogance returned. “So the legends are true. There really is a Skyward Howler in this cave.”

Skyward Howler.

My uncle had told me the legend: a divine beast, one of the nine sons of the dragon, each with their own traits. The Skyward Howler was famous for its courage—a sacred creature, a guardian of royal feng shui through the ages. I never thought I’d actually see one; perhaps legends weren’t all lies after all.

Lost in thought, I was jolted by a sudden commotion. The Skyward Howler’s crimson eyes flashed gold, its whole body radiating golden light, swelling to twice its original size in an instant.

Roar!

A thunderous, ear-splitting sound tore the air. The half-crouched Skyward Howler leaped up and lunged at us. My mind went blank—I’d never expected the beast, subdued by the Taoist, to recover so quickly, now even larger and more ferocious.

The rotten Taoist, terrified, darted behind me. As I tried to escape, the Skyward Howler was already upon us.

Its whole body glowed with a red sheen, flecked with sparks, fangs bared in a bloody maw, roaring at the sky.

Before I could dodge, it struck me with a swipe of its massive paw, sending me crashing into the cave wall. I felt as if every bone in my body had shattered.

But the beast didn’t chase me. Instead, it lunged at the Taoist, apparently remembering his earlier attack. The Taoist’s arrogance vanished, replaced by abject terror as he crawled desperately backward.

The Skyward Howler opened its jaws wide, biting down on the Taoist. My heart clenched—this was the end, he’d be swallowed alive. As despicable as he was, he didn’t deserve to die like this. I had to stop it.

As I struggled to rise, the beast shook its head violently. The Taoist’s body flew through the air, but only one arm remained in the monster’s mouth.

The now one-armed Taoist slammed into the cave wall and slid down, leaving a streak of blood on the black rock.

The beast spat out the severed arm, but it wasn’t finished. It stalked toward the Taoist, who lay gasping on the ground, barely alive.

This was the moment I had to act. If I didn’t stop it now, the Taoist would be finished. But could I really stop it? This was, after all, a legendary divine beast.