“Alright,” Chi Yuan said.
The sword light of Frostchill circled a few times close to the tips of the blood-thorn vines. Her spiritual energy spread out over a hundred zhang, patrolling back and forth three times, her brow furrowing tighter and tighter.
The outer valley was teeming with Tier 2 demon beasts, and the slopes were covered with Tier 1 poisonous spirit grass. The wind swirled with miasma, yet not a single human figure was to be seen.
Shen Qingci pointed her finger at the flattened vines below. “It makes sense for the evil cultivators to have completely withdrawn, but for there to not be a single passing rogue cultivator is truly anomalous.”
On the outskirts of Blood Thorn Ridge, rogue cultivators gathered in teams year-round to harvest spirit grass, and evil cultivators would occasionally come out to hunt them. The two sides fought and paused, but it had never been this empty and clean.
Chi Yuan withdrew her spiritual energy, the sword light hovering above a huge boulder at the entrance. “Let's land first. The terrain at the entrance is open; if there's an ambush, it will be easier to retreat.”
If she were alone, she would have simply charged straight in with her sword.
But now, Shen Qingci was standing by her side.
She knew in her heart that her junior sister was definitely accompanied by secret guards. If an accident really happened, it wouldn't be her turn to step up and shoulder everything.
Reason was one thing, but how she actually acted was another.
Their family backgrounds were already vastly different. If she couldn't protect her junior sister during this sect mission, how could she have the face to stand before the elders of the Shen family when she met them in the future?
She had not yet decided on their future direction, but right now, she only wanted to do everything to perfection.
The moment Chi Yuan landed, she smoothly set up three sword intents as a warning barrier. Her spiritual energy swept over the surrounding soil and rocks inch by inch, refusing to miss even a nest of insects beneath the blades of grass.
Shen Qingci kicked away a piece of rubble at her feet, pulled out a miasma-dispelling talisman, and crushed it, wrapping them both in a faint golden barrier.
“The broken marks on the vines are still fresh; they left no more than eight hours ago.” She pointed her chin toward the inner area. “Either they've all hidden inside, or they deliberately cleared the area to lure us in.”
“The latter is more likely.” Chi Yuan withdrew her sword barrier and lightened her steps. “Keep close to me, and don't touch the vines on either side.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Shen Qingci responded obediently, leaning against her senior sister's arm. Chi Yuan's body stiffened for half a second. She didn't dodge; instead, she took half a step toward her junior sister, shielding her on the inside.
At the same moment, in a hidden underground cavern in the inner area of Blood Thorn Ridge, seven or eight blood-red eyeballs were embedded in the stone walls. These were precisely the “Blood-Thorn Scrying Eyes” refined by evil cultivators using Tier 4 blood-eyed beast eyeballs mixed with blood-thorn juice.
This item could be attached to the eye sockets of low-tier demon beasts, transmitting back images in real-time, specifically countering the divine sense detection of cultivators below the Soul Transformation realm.
On a stone throne, a withered old man twirled a skull bracelet while staring at the two figures on the screen.
Beside him, a subordinate with triangular eyes leaned in. “Patriarch, should we capture these two sword cultivators? They can be blood-sacrificed together with that group of rogue cultivators.”
“Fool.”
The Blood-Robed Patriarch did not take his eyes off the screen, too lazy to spare any attention for the idiot.
“Are you blind? Look at the material of their robes, look at the tassels on their swords. Are those anything those penniless sword cultivators from small sects can compare to?”
“They are clearly direct descendants of a great family out for experiential learning. How could such people lack Dao protectors by their side?”
“A Soul Transformation realm old monster might be crouching behind some cloud right now. If you dare to make a move, you'll not only be throwing your life away for nothing, but when their family comes knocking on our door, this patriarch will have to be buried with you.”
“Then... then what should we do?”
“Pass down my order: the entire hunting squad is to halt their operations, and the rogue cultivators are to be securely locked up first. Pick three clever ones who bear no traces of the Blood-Fiend Spirit-Devouring Art on their bodies, and have them put on a show in the outer area.”
The Blood-Robed Patriarch narrowed his eyes. “These children of great families love to champion justice the most. Once they rescue the fake rogue cultivators and feel like they've upheld justice, they will naturally leave.”
“Brilliant! As expected, the Patriarch always has a way.”
The triangular-eyed subordinate ran off eagerly.
The Blood-Robed Patriarch looked back at the scrying eye screen on the stone wall. He tapped his right hand twice on the armrest of his stone throne and sent another order to the hunting squad: drive all the blood-thorn beasts in the outer area back into their nests; not a single one is to be left outside.
The vines stepped on and broken during the previous pursuit of the rogue cultivators, the blood splattered on the stone walls, the scattered scraps of cloth, and the broken belts were all to be completely cleaned up.
Do not underestimate these traces. The children of great families have gone out for experiential learning with their elders since childhood; their eyesight is incredibly sharp.
A single broken vine is enough to deduce the direction of the pursuit, and a single scrap of cloth can reconstruct what happened.
The hunting squad received the order and departed.
The Blood-Robed Patriarch leaned back into his stone throne. Having lived in the Southern Region for over a thousand years, what kind of great family descendants had he not seen?
These people cared about their reputation above all else. Give them a perfect way out, let them feel like they've done a heroic deed and upheld justice, and they will naturally be satisfied.
Once they were satisfied, they would leave, and once they left, all would be well.
Outside, Shen Qingci and Chi Yuan had walked less than ten li inward when three figures suddenly stumbled out from the miasma ahead.
“Help!”
“Fellow Daoists, save us! The evil cultivators... are catching up.”
Two men and one woman, all at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment, with their Daoist robes torn to shreds.
The female cultivator had a deep, bone-deep claw mark on her shoulder, with blood streaming down her arm. The lame male cultivator had over a dozen gashes on his back, his flesh torn open. The one clutching his abdomen had blood seeping through his fingers, soaking half his robes.
Chasing behind the three of them were five Minya beasts, scraps of flesh hanging from their fangs, biting and clawing ferociously.
Chi Yuan drew her sword, and an ice-blue sword light suddenly swept out. The five Tier 2 demon beasts were instantly frozen into ice sculptures, shattering upon hitting the ground.
The three of them fell to their knees with a thud. The female cultivator's eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “Thank you, fellow Daoists, for saving our lives. We are rogue cultivators from Mengyang City. Twelve of us gathered to enter the mountains to harvest blood-coagulating grass, but who would have thought we would run into the evil cultivators' hunting squad.”
“The remaining nine people were captured and are locked up in a stronghold in the inner area. If fellow Daoists could lend a hand...”
“Oh, a stronghold?” Shen Qingci interrupted her, a hint of concern appearing on her face at the right moment.
“How many evil cultivators are guarding it?”
“At least seven or eight, and they are all in the Golden Core realm.” The male cultivator clutching his abdomen struggled to pull out a handful of spirit stones, presenting them with both hands.
The spirit stones were of mixed grades, mid-grade and low-grade jumbled together, their edges polished shiny. “Fellow Daoists, these are all the belongings of the three of us. We ask for nothing else, only that you save the people inside. We beg of you!”
He actually began to kowtow on the ground, his forehead hitting the rocky earth with loud thuds.
Shen Qingci clicked her tongue inwardly.
This handful of spirit stones looked far too realistic.
The edges of the low-grade spirit stones were polished bright, and the surfaces of the mid-grade spirit stones had several fine scratches—traces left only after repeated handling.
This was how rogue cultivators saved spirit stones: scraping them together piece by piece, hoarding them one by one, counting them over and over when spending, and never taking them out unless absolutely necessary.
If they were fakes, they could have easily used a few mid-grade spirit stones of uniform quality to make up the numbers. There was no need to include low-grade spirit stones, let alone pay such close attention to the details of wear and tear.
To go to such lengths, they were either truly in danger, or they had invested a massive amount of effort and cost.
She leaned toward the latter.
Because a rogue cultivator who had truly escaped from the clutches of evil cultivators would, upon stepping out of the tiger's den, have the first instinct to flee for their lives. They would not stop halfway to ask passersby for help.
Fear crushes a person's judgment down to nothing but instinct, and instinct is always to flee, not to turn back.
Those who could calmly analyze the situation while running for their lives, assess the strength of passersby, and judge whether it was worth asking for help were either highly trained death soldiers or simply not running for their lives at all.
This was pure Oscar-level acting, putting on an immersive performance right here.
Rate on N.U.
