Chapter 136: The Eerie Old Taoist Priest

"How audacious, daring to touch someone from my Single-Word Temple!"

The cultivation level of the newcomer did not put pressure on Ming Yu and Sika, but it shocked them nonetheless. The village chief at the back door was equally astonished, and even Yuan Wuji wore a look of slight surprise.

"Golden light?"

"He is most likely the offspring of the women and children who were captured back then, and the Taoist priests of the Single-Word Temple," Yuan Wuji remarked.

However, the "divine aura" on him was not very thick; one could even say it was extremely faint.

"Is he the only one?" the village chief asked, puzzled. From the perspective of the White Village chief, they would certainly have left behind numerous descendants, so there shouldn't only be one.

Yuan Wuji quickly figured out what was going on. The power of White Village was transmitted into the placenta through Yuan Wuji's monkey hair, giving the newborn infants a unique aura. As the bloodline deepened and the aura was inherited, the children born in White Village would grow increasingly powerful.

However, for the women and children captured by the Single-Word Temple, lacking the assistance of the monkey hair, it was impossible for the temple to give birth to powerful offspring through them. As the bloodline gradually diluted, the newborn children would become increasingly inferior to the previous generation, eventually fading into obscurity among ordinary people.

From then until now, nearly three or four generations had passed. The man before them should be the last descendant possessing that aura.

At this moment, the man looked at Sika with a trace of confusion in his eyes. The aura emanating from Sika made him feel a sense of affinity, making him irresistibly drawn to get closer to Sika. Yet, recalling the actions of Sika and Ming Yu just moments before, he immediately dismissed the thought and pointed his sword forward once again.

"I see you are not children, but rather mountain beasts transformed into spirits, coming out now to harm people. Watch as I subdue the lot of you!"

If Sika's aura gave him a feeling of intimacy, Ming Yu's felt volatile and fierce. Therefore, his initial attack was directed straight at Ming Yu.

Neither Ming Yu nor Sika had undergone formal cultivation; they relied purely on the strength of their physical bodies. However, the aura radiating from the Taoist priest clearly indicated he had undergone cultivation. It was impossible for Ming Yu and Sika to be his match.

Yet Yuan Wuji chose not to intervene; he wanted to see where the limits of Ming Yu and Sika lay.

Standing in the clearing, Ming Yu could clearly sense that the opponent was coming straight for him. The red light in his hand did not wane as he prepared to meet the attack head-on.

However, Sika could not bear to watch Ming Yu get hurt and stood ready to launch an offensive against the Taoist priest at any moment.

"Taste my sword!"

The sword in the Taoist's hand, carrying sharp sword qi, lunged straight toward Ming Yu. Perhaps the Taoist's physical body could not compare to Ming Yu's, but his cultivated physique was in no way inferior in speed—in fact, it was slightly faster than Ming Yu's.

Faced with the oncoming sword qi, Ming Yu brandished the red light in his hand, clashing directly against the sharp energy.

*Thud.*

Ming Yu took three steps back, while the Taoist stepped back only half a step. In this exchange, Ming Yu was clearly at a disadvantage. But the moment the Taoist stepped back, Sika launched his attack. Having gathered his strength for some time, Sika held an absolute advantage over the recovering Taoist, sending a streak of golden light straight toward the Taoist's crown.

Caught off guard and yet to regain his footing, the Taoist had no spare energy to counterattack and could only watch helplessly as the golden light bore down upon him.

*Clang!*

A long sword flew out from the Taoist temple, deflecting the fatal blow for the Taoist. At the same time, a voice rang out from within:

"Where do you people come from?"

"What business is it of yours? Today, we will eradicate your Single-Word Temple completely," Ming Yu cursed.

"Oh, you certainly have quite a temper. Then this old Taoist won't stand on ceremony with you either." A figure shot out from the temple, instantly appearing before Sika and Ming Yu.

Red and white intertwined hair—an old Taoist priest, but not an ordinary one. The aura emanating from him was strikingly similar to Ming Yu's, and even his beard was a mix of red and white. Most startling of all to Ming Yu and Sika was his face: one half, with white hair, looked aged and weathered, while the other half, with red hair, retained a youthful appearance.

Yuan Wuji also detected the strangeness of the old Taoist, noting that it bore some resemblance to his own condition, though even Yuan Wuji could not quite fathom why such a situation had occurred.

Startled by the old Taoist's bizarre appearance, Ming Yu and Sika blurted out:

"What kind of monster are you?"

"Never mind what I am; I know what you are. Today, this poor Taoist shall use your blood as a sacrifice for the perfection of my divine art!"

"I never expected that after a hundred years, just when I thought all hope was lost, the heavens would deliver you right to my doorstep. Hahaha!" The shrill laughter grated uncomfortably on the ears.

"Do you know where this cultivation of mine comes from? It was refined from the bodies of that very batch of people from a century ago. Come to think of it, they should be your ancestors!"

The old Taoist began to show signs of madness, his gaze fixed on Ming Yu and Sika filled with unadulterated greed.

However, Yuan Wuji had no intention of letting Ming Yu and Sika continue the fight. The old Taoist's cultivation was beyond what Ming Yu and Sika could handle, and moreover, Yuan Wuji wanted to find out how the old Taoist had managed to transfer demonic qi onto himself.

"Surrender obediently!" The old Taoist moved to strike Ming Yu and Sika.

Yet Yuan Wuji's speed was far swifter and more ruthless. Before the old Taoist could even lay a finger on Ming Yu and Sika, Yuan Wuji's strike had already arrived before him.

"You are..."

Before the old Taoist could finish his sentence, Yuan Wuji struck him down with a single palm, shattering every meridian in his body.

The awe-inspiring old Taoist of the previous second transformed in the next into a paralyzed, dead dog crumpled upon the ground.

"You're no different."

The earlier Taoist priest had recovered by then. Seeing the old Taoist collapsed on the ground, he attempted to flee, but with a sweep of Yuan Wuji's palm wind, he too was reduced to a dead dog.

"Ming Yu, Sika, are you all right?" The White Village chief hurried over to them, asking with deep concern as he frantically checked their bodies, terrified that they might have suffered even the slightest injury.

"Let me take a look first at how you managed to become this way."

Yuan Wuji grabbed the old Taoist by the crown of his head, sending a powerful wave of divine consciousness straight into the depths of the old Taoist's mind, where he would uncover every single secret the old Taoist held.

It turned out that the Single-Word Temple was never a legitimate Taoist temple to begin with. The priests practicing within it had always relied on refining the blood of young boys and girls to boost their cultivation. Unfortunately, their strength was mediocre, and they dared not regularly kidnap youths for cultivation, which explained why the temple's numbers remained so scarce.

A century ago, however, villagers from White Village had traveled to the town on procurement and happened to cross paths with the priests of the Single-Word Temple. The aura radiating from the villagers stirred the greed of the priests, prompting them to fabricate an excuse to attack the White Village folk.

In particular, the villagers exuding a red aura seemed to hold a fatal attraction for the temple priests; nearly all the villagers who had perished at their hands were those who radiated that crimson aura.