Feng Ming looked toward the battle in the east. He saw the head of the guard and the others joining them, and there was some confusion among their ranks. He saw Prince Shen, the real one, fighting the Taotie with everything he had, yellow chestplate and all. He saw a familiar black spear. His lucky spear.
“Cha Ming?” Feng Ming said, hesitating. “Could you do me a favor?”
Up ahead, the Taotie opened its mouth and roared. Its soundless might reverberated throughout their bodies and souls.
“What happened to your eyes?” Feng Ming asked, curiously glancing at Cha Ming as he led the way toward the last place he wanted to be—right next to the battle, at the base of the Taotie’s feet. They were nearing those who fought it at the center of the devastation. There were no civilians, as those who hadn’t fled had already been killed by the shock waves of the battle.
All around the beast, wicked tentacles flailed about, latching on to anything it could. And all around it, a strange emptiness presided. The walls that had fallen, the earth that had been churned up by the impact of its heavy feet and claws, the weapons that had fallen to the ground from felled combatants—none of them remained. They’d either been swept clear by the other fighters, who knew full well what would happen if they left tasty morsels for the beast to devour, or had been swept up by the tentacles or their tendrils, which roamed the battlefield in search of prey.
The area around the Taotie was fuzzy, for he couldn’t open his eyes. Not only would opening them do nothing productive, but it would also release an intense devil-sealing pressure in a land chock full of devils. There were many of them among the transcendents who fought the Taotie. The creature itself was an outline of darkness so deep that he could almost make out shades from the emptiness.
“We don’t have much time,” Cha Ming said. He tilted his head toward the chanting transcendents up above. A black grimoire now floated between them, black runic characters floating up from its grisly leather-bound surface. Each rune let off a thick ochre glow that his soul could make out, despite not being able to see. The ochre glow made his spirit shiver in fear; it was clearly not of mortal origins. The transcendent devilish might glowed brightly, and the Taotie, which struggled madly to approach it, also seemed to fear it.
“This way,” Feng Ming said, floating over to a collapsed building.
Cha Ming kept up his combat formation, using tricks of light to shield their surroundings. Though not as skillful as Zi Long’s illusions, he could still use his transcendent force and formations to effectively mask their group. There, they waited. Feng Ming, Gong Xuandi, and Cha Ming simply stood there, waiting for an opportunity.
“So what’s the plan?” Cha Ming asked, taking a moment to recover qi and soul force.
“No plan,” Feng Ming said. “We’ll wait here for an opportunity. I refuse to believe that my lucky spear actually wants to stay with that guy.”
Far above them, the crown prince of the Ji Kingdom, Prince Shen, was spearheading the fighters from his kingdom. They were laying down their lives to push back the Taotie, whose power was clearly growing with every passing second.
“Great,” Cha Ming said. “You know, if you weren’t so damned lucky, I’d abandon you in heartbeat.”
“But I am lucky,” Feng Ming said smugly. “A chance will come. Don’t worry.”
Cha Ming shook his head, his guts green with regret. “I should have stolen it when I had the chance. It was just sitting there, in the Wang family vault.”
“You saw my spear? And you didn’t take it?” Feng Ming said, glaring.
“Look, it wasn’t at the top of my priority list,” Cha Ming said angrily. “I had an organization to infiltrate, deception to plot, a priceless treasure to steal, and a weapon to invent then sabotage.”
“So that weapon I set off…” Feng Ming said hesitantly.
“You’re the one who set it off?” Cha Ming said, slapping his hand against his forehead. “I should have known.”
“Stand a little to the right,” Feng Ming said suddenly.
Cha Ming frowned but shuffled over.
“A little more.”
Cha Ming obliged.
“Sorry, I didn’t want you standing there. Bad feeling and all.”
“So we’re just supposed to stand here and wait for it?” Cha Ming said. “What, will it just fall out of the sky?”
Up above, the battle intensified. The chanting grew louder, and the ochre runes began swirling above the Taotie. The transcendents split up into twelve main groups, and one of them, their leader, shouted at the non-transcendents to keep interfering with the beast.
A massive lightning storm was gathered above the transcendents, attacking their group every so often with calculated bolts of lightning. They were warning strikes, meant to strike fear into them but not kill. Clearly, even the heavens held back as the devilish transcendents chanted to contain the creature. Though the heavens were unthinking and merciless, even they seemed to know fear. They simply stood at the ready, and as the transcendents increased their power with the volume of their chanting, they increased in size as well. The bolts the storm sent grew more powerful, sometimes searing a cloak, sometimes burning an arm.
“Now!” the lead transcendent said. “Pull back!”
“Pull back!” Prince Shen yelled, echoing the command. His men flew away, and he held the rear for a fraction of a second longer. They dived and swerved, avoiding the beast as it tried to catch them with flailing tentacles. Fortunately, it was distracted by the glowing ochre lights above it. It reached out for them, only using a few stray appendages to swat the stragglers.
One of those tentacles, to the prince’s misfortune, struck true. It hit him in the back just as he was about to reach safety.
“My prince!” the head of the royal guard yelled, diving to save him.
