Chapter Thirty-Four: The Soul-Capturing Bell

"Fall!"

Seeing that Fang Xiao had not collapsed, but was instead launching himself at him, the old man in plain clothes was instantly panic-stricken. He frantically shook the bronze bell in his hand, his voice growing shrill and piercing, "Fall, fall, fall..."

Whoosh!

In response, the five-star steel buckle sliced through the air, whipping toward him with a howling force.

How could this be?

Although his heart was filled with terror, the old man's reaction was not the least bit slow. He immediately turned his back to Fang Xiao. His short frame was hunched, his back arched high like a turtle shell.

Crack!

The weapon belt lashed heavily across his back. The old man shuddered all over, feeling a surge of searing pain pierce through his thickly armored back, sinking instantly into his spine, then spreading rapidly to every part of his body—reaching even the crown of his head!

"So painful!"

A shrill scream escaped him, more wretched than ever before. He swore to the heavens that he had never suffered such agony in his life. It felt as if his internal organs had been turned upside down, every muscle and bone writhing in spasms. Tears and snot streamed down his face; he was but a hair's breadth away from wetting himself.

At first, the old man hadn't taken Fang Xiao's counterattack seriously. After all, Fang Xiao was a martial artist, not a cultivator, and the belt he wielded showed no sign of anything special. The old man was certain that his iron-backed defense could easily withstand any blow from Fang Xiao.

Now he realized how terribly wrong he had been!

The old man's hunched body was whipped into rigid straightness. The pain, drilled deep into his bones, made him leap upright uncontrollably, bouncing away like a zombie. The ancient bell in his hand jingled and clattered in a mad confusion!

Crack!

The weapon belt struck his back again.

"Ah!"

This time, the old man truly lost control—his face twisted, his beady eyes bulged, his complexion flushed purple-red, and sweat poured from his brow like a river. Most of his body went numb.

He staggered, stumbling to the ground in utter humiliation, even letting go of the bronze bell, which went skittering away.

Just as Fang Xiao caught up, weapon belt poised to strike the old man's skull, the old man rolled swiftly aside. In an instant, sand and gravel swirled up, a demonic wind howling all around.

Fang Xiao sensed something was wrong and immediately retreated several steps, his left hand plunging into his satchel to grasp the mysterious iron spear.

A moment later, a giant rat with gray fur and a pointed snout revealed its true form amidst the storm.

"Vile beast!"

The rat tore away its shredded clothing, glaring at Fang Xiao with venomous hatred. It cursed, "My lord Zi Kan will never let you go!"

Before it had finished, the rat dug a deep hole in the ground with its forepaws and scurried into it at lightning speed.

Trying to escape?

Fang Xiao reacted instantly. Without hesitation, he dropped the weapon belt, gripped the spear with both hands, and summoned all his strength. The forged iron spear was swiftly extended.

"Die!"

With a roar, Fang Xiao drove the spear down with all his might toward the burrow where the rat had just vanished.

Squelch!

The triangular spearhead plunged through the grass and deep into the earth without resistance. A muffled howl echoed from below.

Fang Xiao's body was arched like a bow, his feet sunk deep into the soil as the muscles in his arms bulged around the iron spear. He wrenched the spear upward.

A great clod of earth and tangled grass flew high, and with it, the giant rat with the pointed snout was hauled back to the surface. Its body had been impaled by the long spear, blood spurting in all directions.

The monster was barely alive, its breath faint and ragged.

Fang Xiao dared not be careless. He swung the iron spear down with all his strength—once, twice, three times—until a conspicuous message appeared before his eyes.

[Experience +73]

At last, it was over.

Fang Xiao let out a long breath. The appearance of the experience notification was the surest sign that the monster was truly dead—absolutely accurate. No creature could feign death before him.

What surprised Fang Xiao was that as he withdrew the spear, the rat's mangled body began to rot before his eyes, releasing an unbearable stench. He quickly pinched his nose and backed away to avoid being poisoned.

After a moment, the so-called Zi Kan had dissolved into a pool of pus that seeped into the earth, leaving nothing behind. The stench soon dissipated.

Fang Xiao shook his head, still holding his nose, then picked up the weapon belt and the bronze bell that had been left on the ground.

The bell was about the size of a palm, heavy and substantial to hold, with a dark golden sheen and countless intricate lines engraved on its surface—clearly not an ordinary object. A wooden handle was attached to its top, fitting perfectly in his grip.

Ding-ling-ling—

Fang Xiao gave it an experimental shake; the sound was clear and melodious, but he detected nothing special about it. He couldn't understand why the rat demon had so desperately rung the bell at him—was it trying to deafen him?

It was late, and Fang Xiao didn't dwell on it. He stuffed the bronze bell into his army satchel and returned to the Small Jing Mountain Daoist Temple.

As he opened the gate, he saw Daoist Pang sitting in the courtyard, "enjoying the moon."

Fang Xiao hurried over and greeted him, "Master Daoist!"

"Hmm?" Daoist Pang sniffed the air, his brow creasing in disgust. "Why do you reek of corpse rot?"

He can even smell that?

Fang Xiao was a little embarrassed, but quickly recounted his encounter at Ten Mile Slope.

"Zi Kan?" Daoist Pang frowned so deeply his brows formed the character for "river." He muttered to himself, "Why would that fellow leave West Ridge and show up here?"

"Never mind." Daoist Pang waved it off. "You finished him off, so it doesn't matter!"

Fang Xiao then produced the bronze bell. "Master Daoist, what is this? Is it useful?"

"Soul-Capturing Bell?"

Daoist Pang's eyes lit up, and he slapped his thigh in delight. "Good heavens, what a treasure!"

Happily, he took the bell, turning it over in his hands with undisguised fondness. "This is an upper-grade magical tool!"

According to Daoist Pang, the Soul-Capturing Bell was a high-quality replica of an ancient magical artifact. It specialized in attacking the spirit. When shaken vigorously, it could cause instant spiritual confusion, dizziness, and unconsciousness—a formidable power.

Most importantly, it required no spiritual power to use. If it rang, it worked!

Fang Xiao was puzzled. "Then why was I unharmed?"

Daoist Pang burst out laughing. "You have the Absolute Lawless Body! That rat demon wielding the Soul-Capturing Bell against you was like trying to tempt a eunuch with a beauty—serves him right to end up dead!"

Fang Xiao grew even more curious. "What is the Absolute Lawless Body?"

Daoist Pang’s laughter abruptly ceased.