Chapter 594 — Hard to Tell True from False
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
The million-strong host of gods and demons that had come from nowhere crashed into the horde of Youdu monsters pouring in from every hill and field. In an instant flesh and blood flew in all directions; the slaughter was too terrible for words. Those Youdu monsters knew only how to kill. They had no ranks, no formations; they could fight only by instinct, could not fight in concert with their fellows, and so their dead and wounded were beyond counting.
For tens of li before Wuwang City the ground became a bloody, blurred field of butchery. Countless of the god-and-demon host from the world inside the Deaf Elder's painting were cut down as well; when these died they turned into shards of rock that fell to the ground, leaving no corpses behind. And yet still an unending stream of that host came pouring out of the painting, one wave after another, pressing on with the slaughter, as though it would never end.
In the sky there seemed to be a Wind Earl who commanded the gales, a Rain Master who commanded the rain, a Thunder Duke who commanded the thunder, and a Lightning Mother who commanded the lightning, riding wind and rain, thunder and lightning into battle, mowing down the horde of Youdu monsters. The demon vanguard was checked.
One after another, the ancestors of the demon race, each as tall and massive as a hill, let out roars of fury and waded forward with all their strength toward the front. Wherever their feet passed, friend and foe alike were struck by those incomparably thick legs and sent flying into the air, smashed to powder.
One after another the demon ancestors plunged into the battlefield, and whether enemy or ally, all were swept away like dry leaves and shattered in midair. Weng— The gaze of these demon ancestors turned into surging demonic fire that swept across the god-and-demon host. Black pillars of flame spun madly, and wherever they passed everything was torn apart and melted; even the gods and demons painted by the Deaf Elder could not escape their dreadful demon-eye arts.
They swung their enormous weapons, sweeping all before them with sheer bodily strength.
They were killing machines born to the trade; not one foe could last a single exchange with them.
"The gods and demons in the Deaf Elder's painting simply cannot stand against these demon ancestors! " The Butcher's fighting spirit blazed. He laid his hand on his great saber, his gaze like lightning, and said in a low voice, "Our turn now!
Bashan, as my disciple, let me see whether you have made any progress these years!
" Bashan laughed heartily, called the green ox to him, leaped onto its back, and shouted, "Master, I will go a round with you, and show you what I have gained these years!
" Behind the Blind Elder, the divine spear Longtuo turned into a black dragon and swam through the air. The Blind Elder reached out, seized the spear, and gave it a sharp shake; the black dragon spear straightened with a snap and gave a low, excited hum.
Behind Granny Zhu rose the Daluo Heaven Star; behind the Silent Craftsman the flames of his iron furnace shot up to the sky. The Lame Elder hesitated, then said with a troubled air, "I have no divine weapon to hand.
Perhaps I had better not go. .
. " The Alchemist leaped onto the Lame Elder's back and laughed.
"I am your divine weapon!
Let us go and turn heaven and earth upside down!
" The Lame Elder's old face darkened, and he said sourly, "Pill-peddler, are you not afraid your fair confidantes will be left widowed?
" "Bah! An old man's words are not to be held against him.
Great fortune, great prosperity!
" From the medicine basket on the Alchemist's back countless insects crawled out; meeting the wind they swelled, each becoming a monstrous creature, some racing along the ground, some flying through the air, their poison so potent it gathered into clouds and mist in the sky. "Let us go hunt the demon ancestors!