Caw! Caw!

In the dead of night, flocks of crows burst into flight. Dense forest branches were tangled overhead, illuminated by flickering lanterns and candlelight.

Perhaps because so many corpses had been buried here, the mass grave hill was not barren. Instead, it was thick with trees and overgrown with wild grass. A cold, murky fog rose from the ground, obscuring everything beyond a hundred meters. The light was dim, and the ground was slick from recent rain. From time to time, someone slipped and fell.

There were plenty of faint-hearted people in the group. As they walked, they couldn’t help but glance around, always feeling like something was lurking within the shadowy mist, watching them. It made their scalps crawl, but remembering Wang Daoxuan’s instructions, no one dared to speak.

At the very front walked Li Yan. His left hand rested on the hilt of his blade, while his right held a bamboo pole. His divine ability was fully displaying its advantage in this environment. Though the forest was pitch black and shrouded in fog, every scent was crystal clear to him.

He could smell the rotting leaves, the venomous insects crawling through the grass, the snakes coiled on branches dozens of meters away, and even the rats tunneling several meters underground

Nothing escaped his sense of smell. To him, the dark forest was as clear as daylight. However, what caught his attention more was the yin and baleful energy the hill contained.

He had walked through Xianyang several times. In the city, human vitality was strong and temples thrived with incense, making it suitable for living. Only a few wells and hidden passages retained faint traces of yin energy. But here, the yin energy was overwhelming. Yet, unlike the violent aura of the Cold Altar Soldier he had once encountered, it felt colder, more silent, and as though something was decaying. The smell seeped into the soil, clung to roots, and infused the vegetation.

It was why the plant life grew so lush, and why fog lingered even in daylight.

Swish! Swish!

As Li Yan swept his bamboo pole, snakes and insects scattered.

Wang Daoxuan, trusting his ability, focused entirely on surveying the terrain, lantern in hand. He was constantly checking his compass. Fengshui and geomancy were vast disciplines. One who could read terrain might not be able to shape it.

Wang Daoxuan dabbled in many arts, but only fengshui and divination were his true specialties.

Soon, he found the spot.

They passed through a dense grove and emerged into a strange clearing where no grass grew. Jagged rocks jutted upward like inverted spears, forming something like a natural ruined temple.

Li Yan sniffed the air, his eyes flickered with curiosity. The yin energy here pooled and spiraled like hidden currents in a river, forming a faint vortex. The moment he stepped in, the temperature seemed to drop.

He immediately understood. This was exactly what Wang Daoxuan meant by “momentum.”

Currents of astral qi and killing qi formed different environments between heaven and earth, depending on the surroundings. Wang Daoxuan classified those as lands of momentum, while a sealed, self-contained environment was called a configuration.

There was no hierarchy, just different states. Grand mountains and rivers carried immense momentum, far surpassing small, localized configurations.

All formations, fengshui layouts, and even hidden treasures depended on them.

The place they found was perfect for a ritual.

But though they found the spot, Wang Daoxuan did not rush. He circled the area, checked the compass again, then dug into the soil and tasted it. After spitting it out, he drew a circle on the ground with a branch and nodded.

Sha Lifei immediately stepped forward with others, unloading their packs. Wooden planks and rods were then assembled into a square table with mortise joints. A yellow cloth was laid down, along with talismans and the five offerings: incense, flowers, oil lamp, water, and fruit

Once they erected the temporary altar, Zhou Kangnian approached. He carried a wooden box covered in red cloth. Inside lay a clay statue. It was a chubby child-like figure in a red bellyband, holding a shadow-puppet rod and smiling innocently.

He was the troupe’s ancestral deity.

Li Yan could smell only faint traces of old incense. It had once been worshipped, but its power had faded. It was not unusual at all. Even temples and shrines were forms of momentum or configuration, sustained by divine astral qi. Without fate, incense, or a strong spirit, they would dissipate.

Some, like vicious altar spirits, could even turn malevolent.

Earlier that morning, Wang Daoxuan had already cleaned the statue, smoked it with pine resin incense, and inserted symbolic organs like beads and locust wood.

That had been the consecration ritual. It wasn’t as grand as temple consecration, but it would be sufficient. If they could summon a strong enough entity and maintain offerings, it would protect the troupe.

Everything was ready; all that was left was to wait. Before long, the hour of the Tiger arrived. At Wang Daoxuan’s signal, the troupe began.

Zhou Kangnian led them in burning paper money and ingots. They held three sticks of incense, and bowed devoutly, silently reciting invocation chants. Meanwhile, Wang Daoxuan scattered incense ash around the altar in three nested squares, representing city walls. It was a structure to invite the phoenix to perch upon the wutong tree.

But what would come, even he did not know.

Following the ritual sequence, Wang Daoxuan chanted incantations, stepped in the formation of the Big Dipper, and took water into his mouth before spraying it everywhere. Immediately, the wind stirred and they received a response.

The altar gained momentum. But this time, something was different. The surrounding yin energy also began to move, circling the altar and amplifying the force. Ordinary people could not perceive it, but the temperature dropped further, and a sinister wind rose.

Even Zhou Kangnian began to feel uneasy, bowing repeatedly in prayer.

Li Yan stood at a distance, blade in hand. He had a different role, one critical to the success of the ritual.

Suddenly, the wind intensified and a faint hissing echoed through the mist. It was indistinct, yet clearly audible.

Zhou Kangnian’s eyes lit up. Something had been drawn in. Now, they only needed to break the incense ash circle, opening the “city gate” to invite the entity inside. It felt far smoother than any ritual they had done before.

Surprisingly enough, Wang Daoxuan did not act. Instead, he looked at Li Yan.

Meeting his gaze, Li Yan inhaled deeply, flooding his nose with scents. He quickly found a cold, serpentine stench circling in the distance. Judging by its intensity, it was only slightly stronger than a normal wandering spirit. It was far from enough.

He shook his head slightly, signalling Wang Daoxuan. The latter understood immediately, and ignored the sign.

They continued the invocation and soon, the scent faded away. After the time it took to burn another half stick of incense, something changed.

Caw! Caw!

The cry of crows echoed through the fog.

Even without Li Yan’s judgment, Zhou Kangnian’s face darkened.

Crows were ominous signs. Those creatures represented hardship and wandering with cries that attracted evil spirits. Moreover, they were symbols of death. Inviting a spirit that was celebrated by them was inviting disaster.

They had no choice but to continue, but worry soon crept into Wang Daoxuan’s eyes.

There was a rule that they could only make three attempts. On the third, no matter what came, they had to accept it. If they didn’t, not only would the ritual fail and nothing would be summoned, there might even be malevolent entities attracted to the failed ritual and start wreaking havoc.

Something’s wrong.

Their location was a convergence of yin energy and there should have been powerful entities roaming nearby. Why were only weak ones appearing?

There were no friendly Qingfeng Spirits at all!

The next second, his expression changed.

Someone’s interfering with the ritual!

He quickly moved to Li Yan’s side and whispered, “Someone has set a trap. Drive them away, for if something worse is drawn here, none of us will escape!”

Li Yan nodded and vanished into the darkness.

He pushed his divine ability to the fullest as he scented the air. The forest offered no obstacle and he moved like a ghost. It did not take long for an unusual scent to float through the air. It was a strong stench of wild dogs, mixed with rotting corpses. There were many of them.

He changed direction, leaped onto a mound, and peered ahead.

Below, in an open area, a dense pack of wild dogs stood at attention. They had huge bodies and their eyes glowed red in the night.

It was a terrifying sight.

They were followed by several ragged beggars holding sticks. As they strolled around, they threw chunks of dark, foul-smelling meat.

The scent was putrid, yet strangely enticing, causing the dogs to fight over them.

Li Yan’s eyes narrowed. That was human flesh they were throwing around.

He didn’t know why the western beggars were interfering, or what method they had used, but one thing was clear. There would be a follow-up move. He had to stop them immediately.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a stone and hurled it with a flying locust strike.

Whoosh!

It struck a beggar’s head, tearing open a huge wound. The beggar collapsed, screaming as the odor of blood exploded into the air.

The dogs immediately went mad at the sudden change. Barking wildly, drool hanging from their jaws, they lunged toward the fallen beggar...