Rebirth of Nezha in the Investiture of the Gods

"Senior Brother Wen Zhong, I hope you will not take offense for what happened moments ago."

Li Mingzhu walked alongside Wen Zhong, smiling as he spoke.

"No harm done. What Junior Brother did just now was the most prudent course of action. After all, my life surely outweighs the face of the Jie Sect in comparison."

Wen Zhong chuckled, the words of yet another person who cared more for pride than for life. What Li Mingzhu had considered a strategic compromise, Wen Zhong interpreted as a matter of honor.

Li Mingzhu simply smiled and did not bother to clarify, then said, "There is, however, something I must bring to Senior Brother Wen Zhong's attention."

"Oh? What matter?"

Wen Zhong asked with great interest. Having misunderstood the earlier situation on the sea, Wen Zhong's impression of Li Mingzhu had now improved significantly. Moreover, Li Mingzhu was the son of Li Jing, a figure he deeply admired. Their relationship, naturally, had grown closer without either realizing it.

Social networks, whether in the Primordial World or in later generations, are always profoundly developed.

Oftentimes, two strangers can become confidants by tracing connections—a common sight.

"Senior Brother, please take a look."

Li Mingzhu produced the Soul Lamp containing the Divine Souls of Yuan Futong and his son. Within the lamp, two spirits—one large, one small—wailed mournfully and ceaselessly.

If they had known it would end this way, perhaps they would have chosen differently.

"Hmm? Is this Yuan Futong?"

Wen Zhong exclaimed with surprise and delight. The reason the Jiao Demon King had captured him in the first place was because he had heard news of Yuan Futong fleeing to this area; otherwise, he would never have ventured here.

"Indeed, it is him. To be candid, Senior Brother, I came to Beiming this time precisely for Yuan Futong," Li Mingzhu declared sternly. Merely mentioning Yuan Futong filled him with fury.

"I've also heard about the issues in North Sea City but did not expect that Junior Brother would defeat those wicked creatures in the city and even slay Yuan Futong. Truly, such deeds are immeasurable in merit!"

Wen Zhong laughed heartily. Resolving the issues in North Sea City had relieved him of a great burden, and it was naturally a cause for celebration; the lives of the city's populace, however, were of no concern to him.

Li Mingzhu understood that this was not Wen Zhong's fault. Every leader, perhaps, shares this mindset. Maybe at present, Wen Zhong still held some fleeting sympathy, but as his stature and cultivation grew ever higher, this sentiment would fade away as well.

This change is often imperceptible, shaped quietly over time. Of course, it is also possible that this won't happen—who is to say for certain?

"Where is the immeasurable merit in my actions? Countless lives were lost within the city!"

Li Mingzhu sighed and refrained from discussing the matter further with Wen Zhong.

As they conversed, they soon arrived at the boundaries of North Sea City—a city that had once been bustling and prosperous, but now lay in ruin and desolation.

Tragic, lamentable...

Yet, there was some consolation in seeing signs of life slowly returning to North Sea City, a rare and commendable sight. As Li Mingzhu stepped into the city's domain, he felt a warm current rise within him, accelerating the flow of his mana and even stirring a sense of breakthrough.

A sweep of his Divine Sense revealed that every household in North Sea City had set up his wooden effigy; some places had even erected small temples, with incense burning profusely.

The people had declared their intent to build temples for Li Mingzhu, and they had indeed followed through. Such simple and earnest folk, Li Mingzhu thought, sighing inwardly.

This must be what they call the power of incense, Li Mingzhu pondered.

However, when his Divine Sense swept over the southern part of the city, Li Mingzhu's expression darkened immediately...

"There are sinister spirits at work here! You must leave at once and dismantle all Demon Path temples and statues within three days, or face dire consequences!"

A Taoist with a tall topknot led a group of armored soldiers through the southern sector, rampaging through the area, brutally driving away survivors who were rebuilding their homes after the calamity, and shouting orders much like this one.

"My lord, my lord, this land is the site of our family's ancestral home before the disaster—how could there be sinister spirits here?"

An elderly woman knelt and pleaded. Despite her current wretched state, faint traces of her former grace and poise remained, hinting at a once-illustrious family background.

"I said there are sinister spirits, so there are sinister spirits! If you don't believe me, look!"

One particularly brutish soldier rudely shoved the woman aside and retrieved a Spirit Talisman from his pocket, igniting it and sending it hurtling toward the rebuilding site.

Suddenly, a black aura soared into the sky. The talisman's light glowed brightly, capturing the dark energy, within which a human figure struggled.

"Chou'er? Chou'er—is it really you?"

The elderly woman, upon seeing the figure, wept bitterly and rushed forward. Even if her son had become a sinister spirit, she would still take this chance to see him one last time.

"Mother! Mother! It's me—it's me, your son... Mother!"

The dark shadow wailed in anguish as well. Though he was indeed a sinister spirit, the Spiritual Energy infused into the land after the disaster had nurtured a faint trace of daoist cultivation within him.

This minuscule cultivation wasn't enough for him to take shape or speak before now. Today, the talisman's binding enabled him to meet his family, if only briefly.

"Truly a Gathering Spirit blessed land, haha!"

The Taoist, who had remained silent, now laughed triumphantly, flicking a hand to absorb the sinister spirit into his sleeve. "Perfect material for my Magic Artifact!"

The Taoist spoke lightly, ignoring the elderly woman's heart-wrenching cries. With the sinister spirit captured, he led his soldiers onward to wreak havoc elsewhere.

"Return my son! Return my son!"

Sitting alone on a rock, the elderly woman muttered in despair, her eyes lifeless. Her sorrow was enough to make anyone who heard her cry shed tears and anyone who saw grieve.

"Noisy!"

The Taoist snorted coldly. Instantly, a group of armored soldiers prepared to march over and rid themselves of the woman.

"You wicked Demon Path follower—you'll die a horrific death!"

The elderly woman, suddenly and inexplicably, summoned an extraordinary burst of strength. Her frail and aged body broke through the soldiers' blockade, charging toward the Taoist with a speed that defied belief.

"Courting death!"

The Taoist seemed enraged. With a flick of his horsetail whisk, a surge of True Fire swept out. In mere moments, the elderly woman was reduced to ashes.

None among the onlooking townsfolk or accompanying soldiers dared to breathe loudly—they were all seized by overwhelming fear.

"Take heed, all of you! This is the price for defying the words of an Immortal Master. The Immortal Master removes sinister spirits for your benefit—how dare you act in opposition? If you don't swiftly destroy the Demon Path statues and temples, you'll face the same fate!"

One particularly obsequious soldier immediately stepped forward and shouted, eager to ingratiate himself.

"But he is our Patron Deity!"

An elderly man stepped forward, trembling. As he discarded his cane, it was clear he had already accepted whatever grim consequences might follow his declaration.

"You, old man! Come here—come closer! What did you just say?"

The soldier unsheathed his blade with a grin, but there was a coldness to his smile that sent chills to those who bore witness.

"I said he is our Patron Deity! You dog who abuses authority—filthy mutt!"

The old man showed no fear and stood firm, refusing to take another step, his voice ringing out boldly.

"You senile fool—let's see you insult me again!"

The furious soldier hurled his blade forward with tremendous force.