Chapter Ninety: The Black Wind Formation

After walking for a short while, turning past a scattered pile of stones, Hu San’s view opened up to a cluster of thatched huts built beneath the mountain rocks. It was nearly noon, yet not a wisp of smoke rose from what appeared to be a village. Straining to listen, neither the crowing of roosters nor the barking of dogs could be heard; the entire village lay in a deathly silence.

Before Hu San could examine further, Xiao Xiang’s face lit up with delight. He pointed to a low courtyard nestled beneath a hillside behind the thatched huts and said, “Sir, that’s my home ahead. Beyond lies the Xingyan territory. Although the terrain is complex and difficult, passing through Xingyan from here shortens the journey considerably. Not far ahead is Xu Ji’s old shop, saving a great deal of effort compared to taking the long route.”

“I grew up here,” Xiao Xiang continued, “and with me as your guide, we can cross Xingyan in just half an hour. If you don’t mind, sir, you’re welcome to rest at my home first, have a drink to soothe your throat, and I can hand your things over to my mother. What do you think?”

Hu San looked up and saw behind the hillside a jagged range of mountain rocks, their grotesque shapes rising and falling like a coiled dragon stretching endlessly. Bathed in the noon sun, they shimmered like a sea of stars or a dark, deep lake.

“That sounds good,” Hu San replied calmly.

“Great! Please follow me,” Xiao Xiang said cheerfully.

Hu San nodded faintly, and Xiao Xiang’s face visibly relaxed, the earlier worry replaced by relief.

After a short while, under Xiao Xiang’s guidance, Hu San passed through the eerie, silent village that unnerved him despite the blazing sun overhead. For some unknown reason, walking through the village at noon stirred a chill in Hu San’s heart; his pores instinctively contracted under an indefinable sensation.

Approaching the hillside, Hu San saw a dilapidated courtyard enclosed by a low wall of packed earth, the gate shabby and crudely bound with tree trunks.

When they arrived, the courtyard was quiet, appearing deserted.

Xiao Xiang hurried forward, pushing open the gate with familiarity, beckoning Hu San inside while calling out loudly, “Mother, little brother, little sister, come quickly! Look what I’ve brought!”

Hu San smiled faintly as he surveyed the rundown mountain village courtyard and stepped inside. To his eyes, everything belonged to the mountain folk: to the left of the gate lay some iron farming tools, further in, mountain village specialties hung on the walls.

Directly opposite the main gate was a low adobe house with its door open, revealing only darkness within. Beside the doorway hung several strings of bright red chili peppers, like festive couplets, lending a hint of renewal to the weathered courtyard.

Looking around, the only thing out of place was a round stone table at the courtyard’s center. Four stone pillars served as seats around it, and on the table sat a round tin kettle, wisps of steam curling from its spout, as if it contained hot tea. Four stone cups surrounded the kettle.

Hu San noticed the cups seemed dry, but on closer inspection, faint traces of water inside suggested someone had recently drunk from them.

Xiao Xiang shouted a few more times, but no one came out. Turning back, he smiled at Hu San and said, “Sir, please have a seat here. I think my mother and siblings have gone out on some errand. I’ll go look for them quickly and won’t keep you waiting.”

Without waiting for Hu San’s response, he stepped through the open door, seemingly intent on putting down the items he carried.

Hu San took a deep breath, staring intently into the dark room beyond the open door, but much like before, despite his sharp eyesight, he could barely discern the interior. It was as if a veil of mist blurred his vision, some unfathomable force blocking any prying eyes.

Seeing he could learn no more, Hu San moved forward and sat on one of the stone stools at the table, outwardly calm but inwardly alert. His spirit technique was fully active, poised to spring into action at a moment’s notice, his focus locked tightly on the ice shuttle sword concealed in his empty stone.

His consciousness extended around him, though only able to cover three feet, still enough to detect and counter any sudden attack.

Hu San maintained a relaxed exterior but remained tightly wound inside. Meanwhile, Xiao Xiang did not reappear from the house, nor was there any sound from within.

A quarter of an hour passed swiftly. Apart from Hu San’s steady, powerful breathing, the courtyard was engulfed in complete silence, as if sealed off from the world by an invisible membrane.

Only the darkness beyond the house’s door trembled intermittently, like a giant maw ready to devour everything within the courtyard.

Suddenly, a yellow wind stirred, and Hu San narrowed his eyes. Behind him came a faint creak. Turning around, he saw the once wide-open gate had shut completely. In that instant, the courtyard seemed truly isolated from the outside world; Hu San’s senses struggled to detect any breath beyond its walls.

“A formation!?” A grave look flashed across Hu San’s eyes. Without hesitation, he summoned the ice shuttle sword from within the stone. A faint spiritual glow flickered—his spirit-water talisman’s sigil had merged with his hand, ready to be unleashed at any moment.

“Hmm?”

In the profound silence, a sound of surprise echoed, then a swirl of black mist suddenly burst from the open door, spinning once around the courtyard.

By the time Hu San registered this, the surroundings had completely changed. The thatched courtyard and huts vanished without a trace, replaced by an empty void.

A massive black wind whirled ceaselessly around him; aside from that, there was no other presence.

Hu San’s heart skipped a beat. Judging from the sword’s reaction, he had thought the threat was merely some petty demon intent on robbery and murder. Now, it was clear he had gravely underestimated the situation. Setting aside the creature’s strength, the formation alone was enough to unnerve him deeply.

This was his first encounter with a true magical formation; despite his skills, he found himself powerless, a hero unable to find a stage for his talents.

A faint regret welled up inside him, extinguishing the pride he once held from his cultivation of immortal arts. But with no turning back, he set aside his thoughts and let the wisdom forged in countless life-and-death trials take over.

Unaware of the opponent’s hidden moves, Hu San calmed himself, adopting the principle of responding with steadiness to all changes. Amid the void swept by black wind, he waited silently, his face calm and unshaken.

Time seemed to blur—perhaps fifteen minutes, perhaps a year. Amid swirling black mist, a shadow gradually formed: a colossal serpent with a single horn upon its head.

“Heh heh, good courage, good composure. You’re the first mid-stage spellcaster I’ve trapped in my Black Wind Formation who’s remained so calm. Considering that, if you hand over something satisfactory to me, I might be willing to let you go. Think it over, young mid-stage cultivator.”

A ripple spread through the void, and without the giant serpent opening its maw, Hu San’s ears filled with the voice.

“Esteemed elder, I happened to pass through here unintentionally, not meaning to disturb. If I have offended, please forgive me. As for something to satisfy you, I truly have none. I’m traveling with my master on a trial journey, carrying only the ice shuttle sword; all other talismans and artifacts are entrusted to my master. If you don’t mind, you may verify this with my master.”

Hu San cupped his hands politely. Not knowing the true strength of the creature before him, he could only resort to words.

“My master? Boy, don’t think I don’t know your background. When have you ever had a master? Be smart and hand over your magical weapon. Out of respect for a fellow cultivator, I might spare your life. But if you try to fool me, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

The giant serpent’s enormous head nodded sharply; the black wind in the void suddenly contracted. The black mist thickened swiftly, and a tremendous pressure bore down on Hu San’s body.

Judging by this, the serpent was angered.

“Heh heh, elder, I don’t understand your words. I returned from the Qilian trial with my master. My master was delayed by an old friend, so I came to the Tianluo village ahead. How could I be without a master? As for this ice shuttle sword, it was gifted by my master and bears his mark. Do you really dare seize it?”

“If you insist, I don’t mind either way.”

Hu San’s eyes did not blink; he ignored the serpent’s threats entirely.

Seeing Hu San’s steadfastness, the serpent shadow shrank slightly, easing the pressure as its form solidified. It trembled inwardly. To be honest, after witnessing Hu San transform from a mere warrior into a cultivator, the serpent was far from as composed as it appeared. This was why it had unleashed the Black Wind Formation so swiftly.

In the serpent’s mind, Hu San had been just an ordinary warrior it spotted at the outer city entrance of Tianluo village—physically tougher than most, enough to make even this powerful demon salivate. That explained the earlier scheme of using the child as bait.

Who would have thought the prized morsel would suddenly transform into a cultivator? Now the serpent was truly conflicted.

This did not mean it feared cultivators; rather, those near the Qilian Mountains were either profoundly powerful, capable of crushing it with a single palm, or came in groups, where killing the young would surely bring the elders in vengeance.

From the perspective of a demon on a special mission far from home, either scenario spelled trouble—great trouble. The serpent had no desire to invite such calamity unless absolutely necessary.