Chapter 272: The Forgotten Divine Dao Technique

After retrieving the External Brain, Chen Luo dispersed his Divine Sense. By now, the demonic creature had fled to the outskirts of Iron Spear Temple. Chen Luo extended his hand, summoning a Magic Sword into his grasp.

At this distance, a sword strike is most effective.

One strike to end it all!

Through prolonged use, Chen Luo had adopted some of the bad habits of Sword Cultivators.

When in doubt, strike first.

The Greenwood Sword Intent manifested, enveloping him in swirling sword qi. A Blade Storm materialized around him, its circling energy whipping up the surrounding flames. The small bronze statue lying on the ground had already been charred black. As Chen Luo’s sword qi swept away the flames, the statue remained slumped on the ground, its face turned toward Chen Luo and the fleeing monster.

Strike!

Sword qi surged outward in an arc-shaped sword glare. Sensing imminent death, the monster desperately twisted its body. Its black mud deception proved utterly ineffective against Chen Luo, instead leading it directly into the path of destruction.

“You stole my head and now you dare to slay my yin soul? I’ll take you down with me!”

Realizing escape was futile, the lizard demon erupted in fury. Black strands of hair around it coiled into a mass before exploding outward. Countless threads rained down indiscriminately, their steel-hard bases punching into the limestone ground and creating massive craters.

“Senior, save us!”

Daoist Qiu and Chief Shen reacted first, abandoning their cargo to flee into the temple and hide behind Chen Luo. The other escorts followed suit, leaving only the half-mad Niu Cheng sitting frozen in place, his eyes bulging as he howled like a madman.

Thwack!

A black hair pierced his chest, blood seeping up the strand. In the blink of an eye, the half-mad Niu Cheng was drained dry, leaving only his head behind with eyes wide open.

“What’s that your head? That’s clearly mine.”

Chen Luo extended his hand, summoning a mass of Yin Thunder around him. Under the control of his External Brain - the most skilled practitioner of Yin Thunder Spell Technique - Chen Luo pushed this divine ability to its absolute limit.

Just as the two forces were about to collide, a layer of white mist suddenly rose around them.

The mist came strangely, spreading even faster.

The expected collision didn’t occur. Chen Luo’s Yin Thunder fell into the mist and vanished without a trace.

By the time everyone realized what was happening, they were already engulfed in the fog. Sensing an opportunity, the monsters in the distance immediately abandoned their desperate struggle. With a flash, they darted out of the Iron Spear Temple.

Seeing this, Chen Luo immediately followed out.

A monster he’d already offended had to be eradicated completely. Only by personally burying it could he be assured of safety; leaving it behind to become a problem would contradict his original intent. However, the moment he burst out of the Mountain God Temple, Chen Luo’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

“Where are we?”

“Where’s our convoy?!”

Chief Shen and the escorts were equally stunned by the scene before them. The muddy wilderness had vanished, replaced by a stone-paved town. Rows of houses and dusty streets told them this place was anything but ordinary.

A thought materialized in the Mummified Brain. Chen Luo couldn’t recall which book he’d read this in, but the ability to instantly match the current scene with book knowledge was probably unique to the Mummified Brain.

How had they suddenly arrived here?

Before Chen Luo could investigate further, a violent surge of spiritual energy erupted ahead. Among the fluctuations, he recognized the signature of the lizard demon he’d been pursuing.

Chen Luo leaped into the air, flying toward the source of the spiritual energy clash.

Regardless of where we are, we must first resolve the lingering issues before seeking a way out.

“What should we do?”

The escorts stared at the scene before them in terror. These visions had completely surpassed their understanding—they had no idea how they’d entered this place, let alone how to escape.

“Follow that senior!”

Daoist Qiu took the lead, moving forward first.

In this unfamiliar place, staying put meant certain death. Their only hope lay in clinging to the coattails of someone more capable. The escorts swiftly activated their Lightness Technique, chasing after Chen Luo’s vanishing figure.

Chen Luo didn’t fly particularly fast; this place felt strange.

As he ascended, he clearly sensed pressure, as if this realm itself disapproved of people flying through the skies.

Though he saw nothing, he could feel this hostility—a peculiar sensory experience.

Qingshi Town’s streets stretched endlessly.

The initial perception hadn’t suggested such great distance, yet after flying for what felt like ages, he still hadn’t reached the source. Instead, the clashing auras of the two combatants below gradually weakened. Chen Luo descended, beginning to carefully observe his surroundings.

Countless External Brains materialized, providing feedback from various angles. In moments, Chen Luo had surveyed the entire scene, even memorizing the grain patterns on the corner’s wooden boards.

A group of escorts approached. Their eyes lit up with relief upon seeing Chen Luo standing still. Without him present, they felt utterly vulnerable. This was especially true for Daoist Qiu, a Qi Refining stage Immortal Cultivator who understood better than anyone the terrifying power of advanced cultivators.

“Great Master, what’s that Fate Token in your hand?” Lao Qian asked, his respectful gaze lingering on the red bamboo stick in Chen Luo’s left hand. It resembled the divination tokens used in Mountain God Temples.

Chen Luo instinctively glanced at his left hand, discovering a bamboo stick clutched in his fingers. A row of tiny characters adorned its surface.

What is this thing?

Chen Luo frowned. He’d been flying through the skies moments ago, untouched by anything. How had this stick appeared in his hand? More troubling still, he hadn’t sensed its arrival at all.

“Is this a Fate Token?” Chen Luo asked, turning to Lao Qian.

“Isn’t it?” Lao Qian shuddered, fearing he’d offended a powerful being. “When I went to temple fairs with my wife, she always got these divination tokens. She said they could predict one’s fate. They look exactly like the one you hold.”

A divination token from a temple? Chen Luo examined the bamboo stick. The characters glowed with an ominous black light, pulsing with strange energy. Suddenly, the writing seemed to come alive, transforming into a blood-eyed warrior brandishing a spear. The figure glared at him with murderous intent, its gaze alone seeming to threaten devourment. Sensing Chen Luo’s attention, the warrior roared and thrust its iron spear directly at his forehead.

Buzz!

A black light flashed. Chen Luo let out a muffled groan as blood trickled from his nostrils.

A soul attack?! No, a curse? That’s not it either.

“Are you alright, great master?!” Daoist Qiu and the others exclaimed, their faces pale with fear. They were completely dependent on Chen Luo now; if he fell, their only hope of returning home would vanish.

“I’m fine,” Chen Luo said, pressing his fingers against his forehead. His soul felt unnervingly unstable—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in years. Most troublingly, none of his over a hundred Foundation Establishment brains detected the attack, nor did any of his three Core Formation brains provide feedback.

This thing is abnormal, Chen Luo thought. Suddenly, he recalled an incident from long ago in the Great Tomb of Yue. His master, Zhangqing Zhenren, had once given him a cultivation technique called the Divine Path Manual.

According to Zhangqing Zhenren’s account, he had unearthed this manual while tomb raiding and used it as a means to extend his lifespan. When Chen Luo and Du De first left the Great Tomb of Yue, each person had carried an object related to the Divine Path Manual’s cultivation method. Chen Luo had taken a memorial tablet, while Xie Shuang had brought a spirit bamboo.

It was a pity that none of these items had succeeded when brought out, and his cultivation of the Divine Path Manual had also failed. Afterward, Chen Luo had forgotten about this matter. Now, recalling it, he realized that the recent attack he’d experienced bore a striking resemblance to the techniques recorded in the Divine Path Manual.

Examining the Fate Token in his hand, Chen Luo attempted to snap it in half, but found himself unable to break it.

Though the token appeared thin, it proved unexpectedly resilient. The characters inscribed upon it flowed continuously, as if reminding Chen Luo that to resolve this predicament, he must seek out the Token Interpreter.

Only by unraveling the secret of the Fate Token could he grasp the hope of survival.

“Token Interpreter?”

Chen Luo looked up at the gray street before him. Spiritual energy gathered in his palm as the power of the Demon Bone Array Sigil Art manifested. Gripping the Fate Token, he hurled it forward with force.

If he couldn’t destroy it, he’d simply discard it.

Token Interpreter? No interest.

He had no habit of following others’ predetermined paths.