Roaring Dragon-Chapter 62: Someone Help! The Demon’s About to Fold!
Xie Jinhuan might’ve been barking orders at the ghostly woman, but his sword didn’t pause for a second. He charged straight toward the cloaked old man standing atop the rooftop ridge.
Tap tap tap—
Taishu Dan—reviled for treachery, disloyalty, and petty greed—had many enemies and few defenders. But no one ever claimed the old bastard was weak.
Faced with Xie Jinhuan's full-speed frontal assault, Taishu Dan didn’t even glance his way. He calmly kept absorbing the blood mist rising from the hall below. His left hand twitched—
Swish swish swish—
The five puppets that had been standing still suddenly sprang to life, forming a half-moon formation around him. Their synchronized movements mimicked living warriors—eerily precise.
Clang clang clang—
Xie Jinhuan collided with the puppets head-on, his blade flashing as he probed for a weakness. He drove his sword into one puppet’s chest—but before he could twist it loose, the puppet spun and bent the blade inside its own torso. Behind it, a spear thrust forward, stabbing straight at Xie’s gut through the puppet’s cloak.
Whoosh—
A sharp whistle rang from Taishu Dan’s lips.
Xie Jinhuan faltered for just a breath. That whistle rattled his soul.
Still, he yanked his sword free just in time to leap back, blood beading at his side.
Zing—
Taishu Dan raised his cane, and one of the puppets flicked its sword upward, tapping the blood mid-air. The droplet arced and landed precisely on the skull at the top of Taishu Dan’s staff.
Snap—
The old man dropped to one knee and began murmuring arcane chants:
“Mi-miao-miao~...”
The wind howled across the rooftop. His cloak fluttered wildly.
The carved wooden skull atop the staff glowed faint red.
Xie Jinhuan, sword dancing in the thick of the fight, suddenly felt a dreadful weakness deep in his soul—as if something were pulling his spirit right out of his body. His limbs slowed. His rhythm faltered.
Then—
Ye Hongshang’s voice rang in his mind:
"Soul-Locking Curse. Seal your Shenmen and Shenting points with qi—fast!"
No hesitation.
Xie Jinhuan gathered a thread of qi and sealed the critical pressure points within his body.
This kind of precise internal technique was near-impossible for someone at peak fourth-rank. But now that he’d broken into the Divine Qi Realm, it was second nature.
The moment his qi locked into place, pain ripped through his skull like it was being split open. It was brutal.
But the soul-draining sensation vanished instantly.
Shiiing—
He pulled back, sheathed the Zhenglun Sword, and in one swift motion grabbed the seven-foot leopard-tail spear. He twisted into a full-powered spin—
“DIE!”
BOOM—
The long spear whirled like a black crescent moon, sweeping across the rooftop!
The five puppets were sent flying instantly. Shattered roof tiles exploded upward like a geyser, revealing the mist-drenched hall beneath.
Taishu Dan’s eyes narrowed when he saw Xie shake off the curse. He raised his staff and pointed—
THUMP—
A black mist-dragon burst from the staff, tearing through the storm of tiles and flying straight toward Xie.
But Xie didn’t flinch. The long spear spun back into his grip, pulling the black mist along with it. The momentum built as a piercing whistle filled the air.
“Ssssss—!!”
...?
Taishu Dan’s face changed.
Only now did he realize—Xie Jinhuan wasn’t just proficient in one weapon. He fought like he’d mastered all eighteen martial disciplines.
And each weapon had its own form and flow.
This one was clearly Soaring Dragon Coils the Mountain followed by Black Dragon ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Crashes the Pillar—from the Silver Dragon Eight Forms.
And now he understood why Xie’s body-shielding qi hadn’t covered his whole form.
It wasn’t pure defense. It was an evolved spear technique—a sweeping spiral of qi, repelling attacks like wind and steel.
Having reached third rank, he could command his qi with intent alone. The dragon-shaped barrier wasn’t just flashy—it was functional.
No doubt about it. Soaring Dragon Coils the Mountain was the foundation—and the dragon was the spear.
Xie Jinhuan’s hands spun rapidly. As the qi reached its peak, his body shot forward like a cannonball.
BOOM—
The swirling poison mist was hurled forward, tearing through the rain of debris.
A cold glint followed—Xie drove the spear forward at full speed, the tip cutting a thunderous sonic boom into the air.
CRACK!
The spear surged like a black dragon, lifting roof tiles and wooden beams in its wake. It hurtled straight toward Taishu Dan with unstoppable force.
For a curse-wielding sorcerer—no ghosts, no spells, no poison, no puppets—this was a death sentence.
But Taishu Dan was more than that.
He wasn’t just a sorcerer—he was a demonic cultivator, a “little boss” of the demon path.
And their greatest strength? Even tougher than martial artists.
As long as their blood flowed—they couldn’t be killed easily.
So he didn’t dodge.
BOOM—
His cloak exploded into tatters, revealing a body rippling with grotesque muscle.
His skin darkened into scaly black armor. His arms stretched like a black-furred ape’s. Lifting his cane overhead, he swung it down with mountain-splitting force:
“RAAH—!!”
The blood-drenched cane crashed into the leopard-tail spear.
The spear snapped in two.
The black dragon-shaped qi shattered like its neck had been broken. It plunged downward into the boat and blasted through the far wall.
BOOOOM—
The impact left a gaping hole in the ship, angled toward the river. Blood mist exploded outward.
At the same time, Taishu Dan lunged forward and smashed his forehead straight into Xie’s chest.
THUD—
A proper martial artist might’ve had poor technique—but when it came to raw power, this was the essence of the path: one force breaks ten thousand techniques.
Xie had expected to overwhelm him with strength. He'd accounted for spells, poison, and trickery—but not this freakish body.
Even after powering up, he couldn't match that brute strength.
But he didn’t break.
Feet rooted on the rooftop beam, muscles coiled, qi roaring through his limbs, Xie Jinhuan braced like a mountain.
Yet the headbutt still knocked the wind out of him. His chest held, but his legs couldn't stay grounded. He shot backward like a cannonball, tearing through the roof before catching himself on a crossbeam above the river.
Crash—
The world held its breath for a beat.
Taishu Dan rubbed his bruised forehead, unaffected. He twisted his neck until it cracked. The elder’s face had twisted into a monster’s, full of wrath and killing intent.
“Witch Sect’s flashy but useless. No wonder they got chased into the southern swamps like rats. Demon cultivators? Now that’s real power!”
Xie Jinhuan swung himself upright, landing atop a beam. He snorted:
“Fuck me... there's a phase two?!”
“...?”
Taishu Dan didn’t quite catch that—but didn’t need to. He glanced at the riverbank.
A few figures had just reached the edge. The real experts from the city were still far away.
He raised his left hand—
Whoooosh—
All the blood mist in the hall, even the vapor rising from Du Qingyi’s headless corpse, surged toward his arm. The bruise on his forehead faded visibly. His drained qi refilled before their very eyes.
Xie Jinhuan tossed aside the broken spear shaft and dashed along the two-person-wide roof beam.
Tap tap tap—
His footsteps quickened.
—
On the shore—
Linghu Qingmo flew across the river, sword in hand. Her eyes widened at the giant blood-red crater in the mist, and the shattered rooftop at its center.
“Damn! That was intense! You think the demon’s already dead?!”
Princess Changning, twin sabers hanging at her waist, scanned the wreckage. She frowned.
“Not yet. The sacrifices on that boat keep the blood mist flowing. If Xie Jinhuan can’t land a kill fast, he won’t outlast the supply. But he should hold out a bit longer.”
Lin Wanyi, who had been sick with worry, now saw that Xie Jinhuan looked worse than the demon.
She let out a relieved sigh.
“Not land a kill? Are you kidding? That psycho could kill us all before backup arrives...!”
Steward Hou, Liu Qingzhi, and others followed behind. A squad of ten soldiers and a few righteous fighters trailed them.
They all stared at the chaos with awe.
Someone above third rank was fighting—and not just any third rank, but a real powerhouse.
Liu Qingzhi raised his blade, scanning the area.
“No word yet, but it should be soon.”
“That demon better hold out longer,” another said grimly. “Danyang’s citizens are counting on him.”
“Yeah. If that demon dies first... who’s stopping Master Xie?”
“Keep moving—if the demon collapses, we’ll need to stall him until the experts arrive.”
As soon as the Princess spoke, she dove into the river and swam beneath the surface. The others followed close behind.
From the ship—
BOOOOM—
Another deafening blast rocked the night!
