Leng Jinchan was a disciple of the Luo Chuan School of Diplomacy, currently cultivating at the fourth level of Qi Induction.

However, his outward appearance was far superior to that of Mo Li and Feng Zikang; with his air of immortal grace, he looked more like the celestial master imagined by mortals.

After the initial pleasantries, Leng Jinchan revealed that the virtuous purpose of his visit was indeed not to slay Wudutou Ya. This left Wu Ji somewhat disappointed. After all, based on appearance, this Immortal Leng seemed to possess the highest cultivation among them, making him more promising than the fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy or the Mohist disciple who immediately advocated against indiscriminate killing.

Mo Li, however, was greatly pleased.

“Fellow Daoist Leng, you also seek to mediate the conflict between the Southern Barbarians and the Great Tang? That is excellent; it aligns perfectly with my own thoughts.”

Leng Jinchan smiled, responding in kind, finding they conversed quite congenially.

Wu Ji frowned, forcing a wry smile. “Elders, whether we fight or seek peace is not for me, a mere Governor of Lizhou, to decide. His Majesty has issued strict orders: if I do not bring back Wudutou Ya’s head, I must bring my own back instead…”

Leng Jinchan nodded. “Governor, Wudutou Ya must indeed be killed. Since Fellow Daoist Feng is present, he surely has a method. Fellow Daoist Mo and I shall travel to the Thirty-Six Caves of the Southern Barbarians to quell this slaughter!”

Mo Li hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. To command the Tang army to stop killing Wudutou Ya and seek immediate reconciliation was, based on the current situation, utterly impossible.

Slaying the primary source of calamity to secure stability in the Southern Border was, in itself, one path. With the Tang camp seething with righteous indignation, his remaining there served little purpose. It was better to accompany Leng Jinchan to the Thirty-Six Caves to devise a strategy.

Seeing the two had made up their minds, Wu Ji did not press them to stay. He hosted a feast and then respectfully saw the two Immortals off.

Mo Li bid farewell to Feng Zikang, earnestly urging him to take extreme caution, even gifting him several life-saving elixirs exclusive to the Mohist school. Feng Zikang, naturally, accepted them with a cheerful smile.

As Leng Jinchan stepped out of the camp gate, he drew a cloud tablet from his waist and tapped it lightly. A magnificent cloud chariot descended from the sky, shimmering with golden light, utterly breathtaking in its splendor.

The surrounding soldiers clicked their tongues in admiration, and even Luo Kedi’s eyes shone with envy.

Leng Jinchan escorted Mo Li aboard the cloud chariot, and they departed with an air of proud detachment.

Luo Kedi watched them fly toward the horizon, his eyes full of longing.

“Martial Uncle, after I spend a few years cultivating in the mortal realm, perhaps I can break through the Qi Induction barrier. Then, returning to the sect, learning such arts of soaring and tunneling—how wonderful that would be!”

He was, after all, still a youth not yet of age, brimming with idealism.

Feng Zikang smiled faintly, offering no comment.

Once one enters the dust of the mortal world, the desire to return to the path of cultivation is often fraught with exponentially greater difficulty!

“Are you not doing well enough right now? I heard some old officers say that Governor Wu intends to take you as a son-in-law. His daughter is famously beautiful; you would certainly be enjoying the finest blessings of the human world!”

Luo Kedi chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“Martial Uncle, stop teasing me…”

Feng Zikang let out a hearty laugh, clearly in high spirits.

The next morning, the Southern Barbarian army began their customary pre-battle taunts. Wu Ji gathered his generals for consultation. Feng Zikang sat quietly to one side, surveying the scene. Indeed, Governor Wu’s ranks were filled with elite troops and formidable generals. The leading few were imposing figures, their killing aura thick, clearly veterans forged on the very edge of life and death.

In any ordinary engagement, these men would feel no fear. But Wudutou Ya was deeply versed in demonic arts; no matter how formidable these mortals were, they could only retreat three paces.

For the last half-month, the Barbarian army had called for battle daily, yet no one in the Tang camp could counter the demonic arts. They were forced to fly the banner of refusal, leaving these fierce generals seething with impotent rage.

Today, hearing that an Immortal had arrived who could suppress Wudutou Ya’s sorcery, they were like men injected with chicken blood, their enthusiasm surging. They unanimously demanded to ride out and meet the enemy!

“Immortal, what are your thoughts?”

With Feng Zikang present, Wu Ji dared not act unilaterally and turned to him, cautiously requesting guidance.

Feng Zikang nodded. “Governor, first, have the banner of refusal taken down. Allow me to observe the battle array!”

Wu Ji’s spirits soared. He summoned his aides, ordered the banner removed, and arrayed his forces before the camp to meet Wudutou Ya.

The Southern Barbarian army had been hurling insults for days without receiving a challenge, and their formation had long since become ragged. Seeing the Tang army suddenly emerge was cause for immense joy, triggering a loud clamor among their ranks.

Feng Zikang stood within his formation, peering intently across the field.

The Southern Barbarians had no discernible formation, merely a chaotic mass gathered together, their weapons a strange assortment of shapes. They wore animal skins and had unbound hair. Only a contingent of several hundred in the center wore vine armor, carrying large sabers in their right hands and man-sized vine shields in their left, arrayed in an orderly manner—evidently their elite troops.

At the heart of this group of vine-armored soldiers stood a black-furred wild elephant, nearly ten feet tall, its tusks protruding menacingly.

Seated upon the elephant’s back was a figure clad in golden armor and a helmet that seemed to touch the heavens. A long halberd, over ten feet in length, rested across his lap. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, as he held aloft a wine vessel made from a human skull, drinking and roaring with laughter.

This man was Wudutou Ya, the Lord of the Mantle Cave.

“My warriors, who among you will go and take the life of that cowardly Tang dog leader?”

He roared, his voice like a massive bell. The wild elephant responded with a trumpeting cry that shook the very wilderness!

“I shall go!”

A Wolf-Riding Barbarian General charged out from the ranks, brandishing his long saber, swaggering arrogantly, and loudly shouting curses before the formation.

Luo Kedi, enraged, requested permission and spurred his horse forward, spear ready, to meet the challenge.

“State your name before I strike! I, Tu Tu Ya, do not slay nameless junior officers!”

The Barbarian General struck a pose, looking self-satisfied. Luo Kedi ignored him, executing a swift flourish with his spear and driving it toward the man’s head. The general panicked, ducked his head, narrowly avoiding the lightning strike, but his helmet was flicked off, now rattling on the tip of Luo Kedi’s spear.

“You damned barbarian!”

The general’s eyes turned red, and he exploded with fury, turning his saber to hack wildly at Luo Kedi’s head.

Luo Kedi remained unhurried, reins drawn tight, leaning to one side to evade the blow. With his hand reversed, his spear struck the general’s throat, instantly skewering him and knocking him from his mount. He swiftly removed the head. The general’s mount, a furious wild wolf, lunged forward, but Luo Kedi cracked it on the flank with the shaft of his spear, sending it whining to the ground, unable to move further.

Luo Kedi returned victorious after slaying the general in the vanguard. The morale of the Tang army soared, and they cheered in unison.

He swaggered over to Feng Zikang to boast, and Feng Zikang smiled encouragement. However, a disturbance rippled through the Southern Barbarian ranks; it was Wudutou Ya, driving his wild elephant toward the front line.

The elephant’s heavy footfalls made the very earth tremble, creating a dull, drum-like thudding sound.

Upon seeing him emerge, many Tang soldiers turned pale. This enemy was simply too terrifying; he had already cast an aura of invincibility over them. Many had suffered nightmares in the dead of night featuring the hideous, tusked visage of Wudutou Ya. Even before transforming, he stood twelve feet tall, radiating imposing majesty.

“Your grandfather, Wudutou Ya, is here! Does that little barbarian dare to come up and fight me for three hundred rounds!”

Luo Kedi was furious and was about to ride out with his spear when Feng Zikang pulled him back. Feng Zikang smiled slightly, his iron sword transforming into a streak of dark light that formed a pedestal beneath his feet. He leaped up into the air.

“Wait a moment, let me face him first!”