PCJ – Chapter 307 Crisis After Crisis

“Master!” Chengdao quickly ran forward.

“Chengdao! Go back now!” The old Taoist master stopped for a moment, turned around, and sternly ordered Chengdao. Chengdao had no choice but to stop.

“Let’s go!” The old Taoist master glanced at Chengdao again before saying to Pan Yongxi.

Pan Yongxi immediately lit a torch, but even with over ten torches, the light in the deep cave was as faint as fireflies. Before long, the group led by the old Taoist master had disappeared from sight.

In the dream, however, Chengdao seemed to have already made up his mind. After the old Taoist master walked far enough, Chengdao stealthily followed behind.

The cave was utterly silent, and every footstep sounded startlingly loud. Although Chengdao was wearing cloth shoes, stepping on the small stones in the cave still produced rustling sounds, standing out starkly in the deathly quiet.

“Ah!”

From deep within the cave, painful cries echoed intermittently, suggesting that a fierce battle was taking place ahead. Chengdao was anxious to know how the old Taoist master was faring. He quickened his pace, knowing that even if he were discovered, his master would not have the heart to drive him away in such a dire situation.

Chengdao clutched several talismans in his hand. Although he knew they would have little effect on the ghosts within the cave, they offered him some comfort.

“Shh… shh…”

Suddenly, there was a faint sound ahead. Zhang Jiaohua immediately raised his torch to see what was causing it. At the same time, he felt puzzled—what could be ahead? If it were something dangerous, why hadn’t the old Taoist master dealt with it when they passed through earlier?

A green figure appeared before Chengdao—it was a lizard! Chengdao breathed a sigh of relief, but a chill quickly crept over him. This was no ordinary lizard! It had a very prominent black stripe down its body, something ordinary lizards didn’t have. Even though it was Chengdao’s first time encountering such a creature, he could tell that anything evoking this level of terror in him couldn’t be normal. This creature was dangerous!

Sure enough, before Chengdao could react, the lizard leaped into the air, shooting towards him like a green streak of light!

Chengdao quickly retreated a few steps and threw a ball of fire at the lizard. The lizard immediately burst into flames like a moth to a flame. Even as its body was engulfed, it viciously charged at Chengdao with bared teeth, its sheer ferocity sending chills down Chengdao’s spine. This lizard must have been one of the more common malevolent creatures in the cave; otherwise, the old Taoist master wouldn’t have left it alive. But even so, its aggressiveness nearly caught Chengdao off guard.

With a flick of his sleeve, Chengdao turned the lizard to ash. Though it was easy to defeat—just one small fireball had incinerated it—he knew that if it had bitten him, its venom would have been deadly.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, Chengdao unsheathed the wooden sword he carried on his back and held it cautiously in one hand while gripping the torch in the other. As he moved forward, he constantly reminded himself to be extra vigilant. This cave could easily become his burial ground, and if he wasn’t careful, he might not even make it to help his master.

As he walked, the cave remained eerily silent. Chengdao found it strange—his master and the others had passed just moments before him, so why couldn’t he hear anything now? Despite quickening his pace, it felt as though he were getting further from them. There had been no forks in the path, so even if they had sped up, surely there would have been some sign left behind. He had encountered a strange lizard, yet they hadn’t run into anything?

The cave ahead was pitch black, and when Chengdao turned to look behind him, it was the same. Too quiet! It was unnervingly quiet—not even the earlier cries of pain could be heard anymore.

The more silent it became, the more anxious Chengdao grew. Something wasn’t right about this silence. He slowed down, no longer focusing on catching up with his master. The fact that he hadn’t caught up by now was itself strange. This cave was likely more complex than it seemed. He suspected that the path he was on was not the same one his master had taken. Though Chengdao couldn’t quite explain it, he was sure he had stumbled into one of the traps his master had once mentioned—some ancient tombs contained mysterious formations that could change in an instant. Once his master had entered the cave, the formation had likely shifted, leading Chengdao into a completely different section.

As if to confirm his suspicions, a series of hissing noises broke the silence, and Chengdao sensed a large swarm of creatures approaching him from ahead. He guessed they might be bats, but after his earlier encounter with the lizard, he knew better than to underestimate what was coming.

“Meditate, meditate, hide my body, hidden in the purple-red clouds above. Wind comes, I move with the wind. Rain falls, I hide with the rain. I have three souls and seven spirits with no place to conceal… South Star Six, North Star Seven, I summon the teachings of the Great Lord Laozi, by divine command!”

Chengdao quickly extinguished his torch, chanting a spell, moving his feet in a Taoist formation, and forming a hand seal. In an instant, his body transformed into a vague shadow, disappearing from view. This spell was far more effective than anything Zhang Jiaohua had managed in his own dream. Although in the dream, Zhang Jiaohua could sense a connection to Chengdao, as if the two of them were somehow linked, he had no ability to influence Chengdao or communicate with him. He could only watch like a bystander. What a strange dream this was.

Moments later, through his spiritual sight, Chengdao saw a large swarm of bat-like creatures flying towards him. They looked exactly like bats, but Chengdao knew these were no ordinary creatures. These ghostly beings were bright red, with the same eerie black lines running through their bodies that he had seen on the lizard earlier. However, on these bats, the black lines formed an intricate web-like pattern across their bodies. Their long fangs, even more terrifying, were also marked by black lines.

Chengdao felt relieved that he had cast the concealment spell just in time. If these creatures had found him, even dealing with them would have been a considerable effort.

The bats flew past without noticing anything unusual. One of them circled near where Chengdao was hiding, causing him to break out in a cold sweat as he clutched his wooden sword, prepared to fight if necessary. Fortunately, the bat’s spiritual power wasn’t high, and it couldn’t see through Chengdao’s concealment. It hesitated briefly before joining the rest of the swarm, likely having detected a faint trace of Chengdao’s scent but unable to pinpoint him. Low-level ghost creatures couldn’t break through the concealment spell.

However, Chengdao was worried. If such low-level creatures were already so difficult to deal with, what would happen if he encountered a more powerful entity?

After relighting his torch and walking a bit further, Chengdao felt something sticky beneath his feet. Holding the torch closer, he gasped.

His shoes were stained with blood, which had already congealed, clinging to dirt and becoming a disgusting, gooey mess. Shining the torch on the ground, he realized the rocks below concealed a stream of liquid. But this wasn’t water—it was thick, blood-like fluid. The liquid clung to his shoes, solidifying upon contact, unlike the flowing stream below. Why didn’t the liquid in the stream solidify like the rest? What kind of strange magic was at play here?

While Chengdao was pondering these questions, a rope-like object slithered towards him. He was too distracted to notice. In the dream, Zhang Jiaohua wanted to shout a warning, but he could only watch helplessly, unable to control his body.

“Whoosh!”

The rope-like object suddenly shot toward Chengdao, binding him tightly before he could react. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free. The rope yanked him off his feet, dragging him deeper into the cave like a sack of straw.

“Ah!” Chengdao cried out in shock. Before he could realize what had happened, it was too late. His body was speeding forward uncontrollably, with no way to stop it.

Fortunately, Chengdao still had a talisman in his hand, ready for emergencies. He quickly activated it, and a ball of fire enveloped him, causing the rope-like object to emit a foul stench. It wasn’t a rope at all but a long, tentacle-like appendage of a ghost creature, nearly trapping Chengdao.

Cold sweat dripped from Chengdao’s forehead. He had made two fatal mistakes in a row. This time, it had almost cost him his life. He blamed his inexperience—how could he have let his mind wander in such a dangerous situation? It nearly got him killed!