Chapter Seven: Slaying the Official, Raising the Banner of Rebellion

The so-called wooden tablet was, in fact, a legal warrant.

It was the tool of the petty officials in charge of enforcement, inscribed with the laws of the imperial court and stamped with the magistrate’s official seal.

Such official instruments bore the authority of the law and the power of the government. Though not as formidable as the magistrate’s own seal of office, they were nonetheless able to disrupt and nullify the arts of the practitioners...

Common outlaws were ignorant of the potency of these objects, but scions of noble families like Wang Ling knew their significance all too well!

In this world, the power of the authorities was so overwhelming that even a wooden tablet inscribed with the law could shatter the spells of ordinary cultivators.

At that moment, the man in black had already been bound by two petty officers, and it was clear that escaping would not be easy.

“Chief Hou, this fiend knows sorcery. To be safe, shouldn’t we sever the tendons in his hands and feet?”

“Do it. A criminal like this, once captured by the authorities, is certain to lose his head anyway. Let’s cut his tendons first…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the two officers drew their knives, forced the man in black to the ground, and moved to sever the tendons in his hands and feet.

The man in black was struck with terror. He had never expected these government men to be so ruthless and merciless.

Now, with his limbs bound and escape nearly impossible, his cultivated arts and formidable skills seemed useless—he was a transmigrator, fated to ascend, bring glory to his sect, and yet, here he was, about to meet his end at the hands of two lowly officers in a bustling marketplace.

But just then, a small pellet hit the ground, bursting into a cloud of acrid black smoke that made the officers cough violently and retreat, clutching their faces.

In the confusion, Wang Ling slipped over, swiftly cut the ropes binding the man in black, and pulled him to his feet.

“Hurry! To be caught so easily by two petty officers—if not for the fact that we are both cultivators, I wouldn’t have bothered to save you. Move, quickly…”

Yet the man in black, having just been rescued and still seething from the humiliation and brush with death, was now utterly ruthless. Without a word, he drew forth an object from his robe. A flash of light arced through the air, circling the two officers. With agonized screams, their bodies turned black, foam bubbling from their mouths as they died on the spot.

“Murder! Someone has killed officers and rebelled against the state!”

The surrounding crowd erupted in shouts, scattering in all directions.

Wang Ling was stunned; he had never expected this man to be so vicious—rescued only moments ago, and now already killing.

He realized with a pang that killing two officers was a calamity of the highest order in this world. In any land, slaying enforcers of the law was no small matter.

These reckless transmigrators, daring to kill officers, clearly had no idea how powerful the authorities of this world truly were.

But Wang Ling was certain they would soon find out.

He bitterly regretted getting involved with this man at all. Even more did he rue his impulsive decision to save a fellow transmigrator.

Now, though, it was too late for regrets; he could only flee with the man in black.

Their pace was swift—though the man in black appeared to walk, his speed rivaled a dead run, gliding over rough ground as if his feet never touched the earth.

Fortunately, Wang Ling had trained in martial arts since childhood and was highly skilled. More importantly, he knew the terrain.

The man in black, for all his ferocity and power, was unfamiliar with this place and could only follow Wang Ling’s lead.

They slipped through woods, crossed mountains and valleys, and put dozens of miles behind them before finally slowing their pace.

“You have such skills—how did you get caught by two village officers?” Wang Ling asked the man in black.

The man in black gave a wry smile. “I don’t know what that wooden board was. One look at it, and my vision went white, my head spun…”

Indeed, had he acted directly, subduing the two officers would have been simple—they were only ordinary men.

He was a Daoist of the True Cloud sect, a descendant of the once-great Celestial Vault Temple. Although the temple had long since declined, it still boasted many devoted followers.

He could hardly have anticipated that danger would find him the moment he arrived in this world…

At the time, he thought he could endure and bide his time, but those two damnable officers had drawn their knives without hesitation—he’d nearly perished for his complacency.

Without Wang Ling’s intervention, he would have been crippled, left wishing for death but denied even that mercy.

“A wooden tablet? That’s what village officers use to enforce the law—it’s inscribed with the imperial statutes and the seal of office. Such official items may not rival the seals of higher magistrates, but even so, they can break our spells… Don’t tell me you didn’t know that?” Wang Ling asked, his tone deliberately incredulous, as if it were common knowledge.

He had already guessed the man was a fellow transmigrator, but still used his words to probe.

The man in black fell silent—he truly hadn’t known, being newly arrived in this world.

Was the power of the authorities here really so overwhelming? That a simple law-inscribed wooden board could break his spells, and nearly bring him to utter ruin?

“Is the might of the imperial court truly so terrifying?”

“Of course it is. Otherwise, why would we cultivators be forced to live in hiding? You really shouldn’t have killed those two officers—you’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest now! Enough talk, we need to keep moving before the imperial experts catch up!” Wang Ling said.

A chill ran through the man in black as he recalled how those two village officers had been ready to cripple him at a moment’s notice. He no longer dared to linger, and followed Wang Ling deeper into the mountains.

Meanwhile, in Guangyang City…

Several fine horses surrounded a carriage that thundered onto the scene of the recent killing. After hearing the testimony of some bystanders, an official dressed in long robes and a tall hat, bearing the seal of office, sat darkly in the carriage, his voice cold:

“A sorcerer dares murder imperial officers—such a crime cannot be forgiven! Deliver my command: All township constables and village watchmen are to search the hills and wilds. No matter what, those criminals must be found!”

At his order, two officers bowed, mounted their horses, and rode off to alert every watch post.

Another officer stepped forward and saluted. “Lord Enforcer, the sun will set soon. Relying solely on the village watchmen, it will be difficult to find the fugitives. Should we deploy the ghost-troops?”

The magistrate nodded slightly. “Of course. Not only will I dispatch our own township’s ghost-troops, I will also report to the county magistrate to send out the county’s ghost-troops as well.”

“Excellent! With the county’s ghost-troops deployed, those two villains will have no hope of escape, no matter where they run!” The officer was overjoyed.

The magistrate stroked his beard and nodded, seemingly in agreement.

But his eyes flickered with calculation. Sorcerers like these were appearing more and more frequently, growing ever bolder—surely the court would soon issue a new decree to root them out once again.