Chapter 65: Framing Ding Wugu (1)

Chapter Twenty: Framing Ding Wugu

Mo Yuxi’s three subordinates lured away the horde of red-furred demon rabbits. The others gathered near Yan Chuan.

“Master Yan, are you familiar with this formation?” Mo Yuxi looked at Yan Chuan and asked.

Yan Chuan glanced at the group. Although his cultivation from his previous life had faded, his sharp perception remained undiminished.

Aside from Mister Wenruo, the others all carried an air of superiority. Even Mo Yuxi, polite only because she found him useful, was not exempt from this hauteur.

This sense of condescension made Yan Chuan extremely cautious. Thus, when they had just put forth the unreasonable request for him to act as their guide, he agreed without hesitation.

“I’ve heard of this outer formation before, but not much,” Yan Chuan replied with a faint smile.

“Not much? What else do you know?” Mo Yuxi pressed.

Yan Chuan looked up at the sky.

The yellow clouds were about to engulf the heavens. Yan Chuan narrowed his eyes and said, “The entrance is about to appear, but at the same time, the most dangerous moment is upon us.”

“Oh?” The group was slightly taken aback.

A deafening rumble resounded as the yellow clouds blanketed the sky, making the entire world within the formation tremble violently.

At the center, near the yellow pillar, the shaking was most intense.

With the roar still echoing, the earth around the pillar cracked open, and amidst the tremors, eight mounds of earth erupted from the ground, growing larger and larger, rising up until they resembled towering mountains.

“Why did eight mountains suddenly appear?” Mo Yuxi frowned.

“These are not mountains; they are eight graves. This is the Eightfold Nether Yellow Springs Formation. A geomancer must bury alive sixty-four powerful beasts to set it up—these are the graves of eight of those beasts,” Yan Chuan said gravely.

“Buried alive?” Qinglong exclaimed in shock.

“It’s akin to being interred alive. Only in this way can their strongest resentment be gathered, and the formation be arrayed with that malice. It’s a common tactic in geomantic formations. Haven’t you all heard of it?” Yan Chuan looked at the others.

Mister Wenruo shook his head. “Records on geomancy are extremely scarce, and its secrets are mostly passed down orally. There are few geomancers here, so our knowledge is limited.”

“Isn’t Ding Wugu a geomancer?” Yan Chuan smiled at him.

Ding Wugu’s face darkened.

“The formations I study just happen not to include this one,” Ding Wugu retorted stiffly.

Upon the land, where before only a trace of yellow liquid had seeped, now a vast expanse spread out like an ocean.

“The ground—is it sinking?” Qinglong’s face changed.

“This is the water of the Yellow Springs. The demon rabbits are about to grow stronger! Head to those eight grave-mounds—the entrance is there. Any geomancer can sense it!” Yan Chuan cried out.

“Understood!” the group answered in unison.

“Full advance!” Huo Guang commanded.

Yan Chuan led the way, quickly analyzing the eight graves before him. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed and a faint smile curled on his lips. Without hesitation, he strode toward one of them.

With Yan Chuan guiding them, the group unconsciously followed him up to the foot of a massive grave.

Though called a grave, it rose high into the sky. As they climbed, the group couldn’t help but look back.

Behind them, the Yellow Springs stretched out like a boundless sea.

Within those waters, scores of demon rabbits seemed to sink and vanish, leaving only eight remaining. These eight grew ever larger—fifty feet, a hundred, then five hundred, and even a thousand feet tall.

The demon rabbits swelled in size, the baleful aura around them thickening with every breath.

Suddenly, all eight demon rabbits threw back their heads and howled at the sky. Overhead, the yellow clouds began to swirl rapidly, darkening the heavens as wind and cloud converged in an ominous storm.