Slaying Demons: Starting with Upgrading my Calligraphy-Chapter 507 - 443: Exclusive Tenacity Retention!_3
A mysterious vibration, as if existent yet elusive, began to spread into the distance, even the eerie muddy fog could not block or hinder it.
On the other side.
The grey-robed elder monk, hurried and suffocated, returned to the eerie temple filled with white skeletal spikes, yet carved with numerous grinning and sinister Bodhisattva Vajra Dharma Characters.
"How does it feel, judging by your expression, you’ve been scolded again, haven’t you?"
In front of the temple, under the blood-red lion covered with human-faced long worms, a figure with a head as large as a bucket, dressed in tattered clothes, slim as a pole, with blood-red eyes, slowly walked out.
"Liu Laosan, don’t just flap your lips, next time, if you’ve got the guts, you go, let’s see if you come back alive."
Not willing to engage with the big-headed child, the grey-robed elder monk flicked his sleeves and walked straight into the temple.
"Hehehe, just a little joke, and you’re all worked up.
What’s up, did Sword Servant Sir give any new commands?"
He chuckled twice, Liu Laosan unconcernedly followed the grey-robed elder monk, baring his teeth as he asked.
"The lord has instructed that from today, no one is to disturb him, those who violate will bear the consequences themselves.
Moreover, the Human Race needs to achieve something soon, or else if the lord turns hostile, there won’t be good outcomes for us."
Passing through a long, winding path to a Zen room, the grey-robed elder monk skillfully picked up a white porcelain jar as tall as a foot on the table, reached inside to grab a squirming eerie five fingers, and stuffed it into his mouth.
Chewing twice, his throat moved, swallowing the contents, a trace of satisfaction finally emerged on the grey-robed elder monk’s face.
"Want some?"
Licking the remnants from his lips, the grey-robed elder monk grabbed another handful and offered it to Liu Laosan next to him.
"This stuff, you enjoy it yourself."
Turning away with a curl of his lips, Liu Laosan evidently did not fancy this kind of thing.
"No palate."
Giving Liu Laosan a glance, the grey-robed elder monk stuffed several more mouthfuls then put down the white porcelain jar, wiped his hands, and said:
"Let Sun Yin and Bi Changchong come over here later.
This Southern Ming Wasteland is truly inconvenient, unable to communicate, we can only use the most primitive methods.
It’s the meaning of Lord Sword Servant, it must be conveyed promptly, otherwise, it’s your and my responsibility.
Alas, I really don’t know why Mr. Li sent her over.
Could it be we’re going to slack off?"
With legs crossed, sitting on the table, Liu Laosan touched his huge head, looking dissatisfied.
It’s just that when he said this, he snuck a glance at the grey-robed elder monk, only to see the latter looking back with a suppressed smile, seemingly "agreeing" with what he had said.
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
At this, both longtime old demonic cultivators burst into laughter.
"We’re not fools, why should we risk our lives for the upper echelons’ whims."
Waving his long, pointed nails, the grey-robed elder monk wrinkled his nose.
This time, if it weren’t for this Sword Servant accompanying them, this bunch of Great Demon Old Devils would surely, a hundred percent, upon reaching the Southern Ming Wasteland, find a place to hide away until the Human Race found the item and left, then return the same way.
To cultivate to the Dao Body Realm, how many are foolishly loyal and passionate?
Why should they risk their lives to please Mr. Li?
Unlike the inexplicable conviction of the Human Race, demonic evil cultivators have always been self-serving, benefiting themselves first, never understanding the notion of laboring for the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.
In their eyes, this is a harsh, lethal mission benefiting the upper echelons.
It seems, however, someone saw through their little cleverness.
Mr. Li directly sent over her personal Sword Servant.
Although ostensibly, this Sword Servant Sir came mainly to find what the lord needed.
But all the Great Demon Old Devils traveling with them know.
This wretched woman is here to supervise the battle!
If it weren’t for this Sword Servant Sir’s terrifying combat power, not being a Primordial Spirit Boss, yet possessing power comparable to one.
They would have let her "unfortunately fall overboard" on the way.
"Has the Blood Stele shown any recent activation?
I’ve heard that this time, the Human Race sent some tough characters to the Southern Ming Wasteland, they seem determined to acquire the item they’re looking for.
Although we outnumber them.
If it really comes to a confrontation, the Human Race has quite a few trump cards."
After laughing, the two old devils turned to serious matters.
"Not yet, it’s just an initial entry into Southern Ming Wasteland; even the Human Race side is very cautious, both sides are probing each other.
Moreover, here the muddy fog is pervasive, if one is intent on escaping, no one would risk chasing recklessly."
Shaking his head, the grey-robed elder monk brushed open the Zen room window, revealing a stone monument filled with cracks, mottled and unclear, as if formed by coagulated blood clots.
On this stone monument, four hundred seventy-five dark yellow names moved as if they were alive.
They were the Great Demon Old Devils present at the Southern Ming Wasteland.
Similar to the Human Race’s Mind Sensing Spirit Plaque, once a Great Demon Old Devil is killed, the name on the Blood Stele turns black.
They can thereby gauge the number of fallen companions.
As the two old devils turned their gaze toward the Blood Stele, the previously unchanged stone monument suddenly saw three names turn black at once.
"Hmm?"
Eyes narrowing, the grey-robed elder monk moved to the Blood Stele, squinting as he looked at the three blackened names.
"It’s the three brothers from Green Cloud Mountain Silver Stream Cave."
Reaching to touch the names signifying demise, the grey-robed elder monk’s expression grew grave.
A Great Demon had fallen, and it was three at once.
This plainly indicated that a powerhouse on the Human Race side had already adapted to the Southern Ming Wasteland’s environment and began heavy action.
"Have Sun Yin and Bi Changchong come over immediately."
Realizing the situation was beginning to shift, the grey-robed elder monk dared not delay.
He may not need to personally engage in frontline slaughter.
But the responsibility of commanding from the rear, taking the blame, was enormous.
If that Sword Servant Sir learns of setbacks at the front, he believes that this Lord, who usually doesn’t smile and speaks with an icy edge,
sure would not hesitate to behead him as a sacrifice!
...
