Chapter Fifty-One: The Six Paths Primordial Technique

Li Hao saw the deep disdain on Yang Lan’s face and was furious, yet utterly helpless. Yang Lan now held the upper hand; what could he do? He could only hope that the two grandmasters at his side would help Yang Nan escape back to Kunlun, turning defeat into victory. Once they returned to Kunlun Mountain, the Kunlun Sect would not allow anyone to bully them so easily.

Yang Lan turned to Yang Nan with a faint smile. “Good nephew, do you still cling to hope?” His expression was like a cat toying with a mouse, a subtle, mocking smile hovering on his lips. With his power today, killing Yang Nan was easy; capturing him alive would be difficult. Better to crush Yang Nan’s spirit entirely.

Chiyang stepped forward, sword in hand, his stance fierce. “If you want to fight, let’s do it together! Who among you will be first to die?”

Yang Lan shook his head and sighed. “Chiyang, you were the most accomplished of my father’s followers. On that day, I focused only on the transfer of imperial power, never expecting my father to use the golden cicada tactic to send my good nephew away. Fortunately, today the threat has not grown too great. Since you are so loyal, let me send you on your way.”

Yang Lan’s eyes widened, murderous intent blazing. He stepped forward, the ground sinking beneath his feet as immense power shot toward Chiyang. His fist thrust forward, striking straight at him.

This punch carried the howling force of fierce winds, sealing Chiyang’s movements from all sides. Chiyang, having studied both sword and Dao, understood at once: Yang Lan’s fist transcended ordinary martial arts.

Heaven and earth, wind, fire, ice, and thunder—six kinds of energy surged forth.

A punch that shook the world! The force swept outward like a mountain collapsing, resounding loudly.

Chiyang tapped his fingers lightly, and his natal divine weapon ignited with a demonic blaze three yards high, meeting Yang Lan’s fists head-on.

Boom!

Fist and sword collided with a soft sound. Yang Lan’s fist met the surging Fire Sun Sword and instantly extinguished its demonic flames. His massive fist bent the sword, scattering its force across the courtyard and destroying flowers and grass. Chiyang’s face changed, and his sword suddenly enlarged, lifting Yang Lan high into the air like a giant weapon.

Yang Lan’s eyes gleamed with fervor and he exclaimed, “Excellent!” Then he spun in midair, fist descending straight down to attack Chiyang from above.

This punch contained boundless energy. It appeared slow and weak, yet Chiyang found himself unable to lift his sword to block it. In shock, he realized the descending force enveloped him, binding his own power so tightly that every movement felt weighed down by countless grains of sand, rendering him almost immobile.

Heaven and earth, water, fire, ice, thunder—six energies bound Chiyang’s limbs like ropes.

Chiyang struggled to wield his giant fire sword, desperately resisting the terrifying force.

Yet Yang Lan’s force enveloped everything like an impenetrable net. Under his punches, everything became heavy as mountains; no matter how skilled you were, you could not move freely.

Bang!

Within a few moves, Chiyang was struck in the chest, spitting blood.

Bang! Bang!

Chiyang took two more blows to the chest and back.

Even with his power, Chiyang could not withstand Yang Lan’s terrifying punches.

Yang Nan watched Yang Lan’s overwhelming dominance—within a few strikes, Chiyang was forced back again and again—and his heart filled with deep dread.

‘Horizontal punch, vertical elbow, sweeping kick!’ Yang Lan’s fists moved as fast as lightning, heavy as mountains. Each blow scattered Chiyang’s power, and when he tried to block with his divine weapon, Yang Lan’s punch instantly knocked aside the Fire Sun Sword, sending Chiyang soaring three yards high in an instant. The fierce punch tossed him like a pillar of energy, Yang Lan’s lips curled in disdain as his figure appeared mysteriously in midair, his left leg shooting out like a bolt of lightning, stomping down hard! A force as mighty as a mountain pressed down, slamming Chiyang to the ground.

“So this is what you call Daoist arts?” Yang Lan landed, hands behind his back, as if he’d done something trivial. His sharp eyes fell on Yang Nan. “Nephew, use whatever methods you have. I’ll meet your Daoist arts with the Six Paths Universal Power.”

Yang Nan helped Chiyang up, only to find his power scattered and cultivation greatly diminished. Yang Lan’s punches were peerless, rivaling the powerful magic of Daoist cultivators. Under the crushing force, Chiyang could not even use his natal powers.

With inferior power, you could only be beaten down—master-level Daoist arts were no match for Yang Lan, a grandmaster.

The Fire Sun Sword was bent, Chiyang’s armor and clothes torn, as if he’d been crushed by a boulder.

Such terrifying martial arts! Such overwhelming power! Yang Nan’s face paled.

“Be careful, Anan… his martial arts are formidable, nearly at the level of Dao…” Chiyang finished, then fainted—just a few punches had left him severely injured.

Yang Nan’s gaze grew cold as he swiftly stored Chiyang in the Rivers and Mountains Ring.

He turned to Commander Shrimp and the thousand demon soldiers. “You have always fought to the death for me. I, Yang Nan, would rather die than surrender. Though you are my personal guards, today is perilous. You may decide for yourselves whether to fight.”

At this point, only a desperate battle remained. Even if he begged for mercy, Yang Lan would never spare him.

The Supreme Demon Body… was Yang Nan’s only asset.

But if he used it now, the thousand demon soldiers would surely suffer heavy casualties.

Li Yun, a seventh-level grandmaster, could easily kill three hundred demon soldiers; how much more so Yang Lan, a grandmaster?

No matter how ruthless, Yang Nan could not bear to let his soldiers die in vain for him.

Commander Shrimp stood resolute, shouting, “Since I followed you, young master, when have I ever been afraid? You never despised us demons, taught us Daoist arts, martial skills, fed and clothed us well. You raised an army for a time like this—I’ll die before I retreat!”

He knew today was hopeless, but fear was useless.

Whether demon or man, Yang Lan would kill them all.

Among those who cultivate the Dao, gathering demons is commonplace, but a generous master like Yang Nan was rare.

No way out—why not fight? Not one of the demon guards was a coward.

Hearing Commander Shrimp recount Yang Nan’s deeds, the thousand demon soldiers’ blood boiled. “We will fight to the death for the young master! We regret nothing, even in death!”

Yang Nan was deeply moved. “Good… true men!” Such loyal guards were the foundation he could trust. Even in death, they would die together.

Yang Lan’s eyes showed surprise. He could see that most of these demon soldiers were between demon master and grandmaster, fiercely loyal. How could Yang Nan have trained such formidable soldiers in just a few years?

He didn’t know that Old Crab, to train Yang Nan’s guards, drilled them daily, gave them whatever they needed—so long as Spirit Beast Mountain had it, the guards enjoyed it. But Old Crab demanded only one thing: loyalty.

Without loyalty, you could not enter the guard. Without loyalty, you would die by the Three Punishments, Six Paths, and one hundred and eight tortures.

From tens of thousands of demon soldiers, only two thousand became guards. If they retreated at the first scare, how could they call themselves guards? A guard would fight to the last man, never retreat.

‘In today’s battle, who knows how many of these thousand demon soldiers will perish…’ Yang Nan thought to himself, a trace of sorrow in his heart. To surpass others, you must pay more than others.

He could flee with the Divine Light Spell on the Heavenly Origin Talisman, but if he escaped, what about Li Hao? What about Dieyi and the other three women, and Yang Da and the two servants? Abandoning his companions for his own safety would violate his Daoist heart—Yang Nan would rather die. Besides, with experts from the Talisman Sect present, exposing the Heavenly Origin Talisman would bring even greater trouble.

“Golden Roc, take the Pure King and flee when the time comes. Don’t hesitate; just get to Kunlun Mountain.” Yang Nan transmitted his voice, then handed the Five-Colored Feather Fan from Dieyi to him.

Golden Roc saw the situation and, except for his fear of Yang Nan, was undaunted by Yang Lan and the others. He couldn’t defeat them, but with his innate abilities, few could catch him if he fled.

Yang Lan watched coldly but did not intervene, only smiling faintly. “I know you have a special storage treasure, but do you really have time to stash people away and escape? Good nephew, we know most of your tricks. Today, even if all the gods and Buddhas come, none can save you.”

Yang Nan’s heart trembled. He glanced up at Li Yun hovering above. Li Yun gave him a gentle smile—everything understood without words.

“Very well, Twelfth Uncle, you are truly extraordinary.” Yang Nan smiled faintly, his heart growing colder. He performed a secret hand seal, and a thousand demon soldiers rose like a tide of white mist, instantly forming a battle formation around him. This time, he did not use the all-powerful Supreme Demon Body, but the forbidden formation—the Myriad Demons Returning to Origin Array.

The Myriad Demons Returning to Origin Array transformed into a massive demon cloud, spreading above the courtyard. Each demon soldier was tightly linked, pooling their power for Yang Nan’s use.

‘A thousand demon strengths, plus the dual master’s power—surely that’s enough to kill one martial grandmaster!’ Yang Nan flew into the demon cloud, shouting, “Yang Lan, come! Let me see what abilities you, Martial Sage, have yet to reveal!”

Demonic energy surged, vast and mighty. Yang Nan stood within the array, surrounded by his loyal demon guards, ready to draw power from any of them. A strength greater than anything he had ever felt coursed through him.