Chapter 752 – Trying to Run?
The sunlight streamed down from above, filtering through the layers of branches and leaves, breaking into fine specks that scattered across the forest floor.
The ground was thickly covered in fallen leaves.
This was a dense, vast, and rarely-traveled part of the mountain forest.
Mo Hua compared it to the sect's topographic map and roughly judged their position.
This patch of woods was located at the border between the outer and inner mountain ranges—remote and rugged. Even the presence of spirit beasts was rare, and it was far from the sect's main gates.
Round trip? Too far. Time-consuming.
So most disciples never came here to hunt beasts.
A light mist drifted among the trees, mixed with a pungent miasma. The atmosphere was eerily silent, almost suffocating.
Mo Hua and the others followed the trail of pinkish blood on the ground, along with marks from a beast being dragged, heading deeper into the forest.
After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the blood trail vanished.
The rocky terrain and tangled foliage left no further trace.
Situ Jian and the others all silently turned to Mo Hua.
Even Linghu Xiao looked over, confused.
Mo Hua lowered his head. His eyes suddenly darkened and deepened, heavenly patterns glimmered faintly within his pupils, and threads of karma gradually entwined before him.
A crimson thread of aura slowly manifested—drifting off into the distance.
Mo Hua pointed.
"This way."
And with that, he took the lead, following the direction of the karmic thread.
Situ Jian and the others followed behind like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Only Linghu Xiao was a bit dazed.
"How… did he figure that out?"
Seeing the group moving on, Linghu Xiao gave up on asking and simply followed.
They walked for a while longer until Mo Hua suddenly stopped, his expression turning serious.
"Be careful. It's just ahead."
Everyone tensed and nodded.
Linghu Xiao was startled. Still clueless.
How did he know again?
With his Swordheart Clarity, his perception was already strong, and his spiritual sense wasn't weak. But within its entire range—he sensed nothing.
Yet Mo Hua had already spotted the enemy?
How strong was his divine sense?
Linghu Xiao was inwardly shocked but kept his questions to himself.
Under Mo Hua's guidance, the group quieted their breaths, suppressed their auras, and crept forward.
After a moment, Linghu Xiao's pupils suddenly shrank.
He could now feel a powerful aura—brimming with bloodthirsty demonic qi—it made his very sword heart quiver.
A few steps later, Situ Jian and the others also sensed it, their expressions growing grim.
Only Mo Hua remained calm. Once they were about a hundred feet away, he raised a hand to signal everyone to hide.
They took cover behind a large tree with thick underbrush. Peering through the foliage, they saw—
A long, slender, alluring Blood-Enchanting Fox lay dead on the ground, its crimson fur stained with pink demonic blood.
Right beside it, crouched a towering "monster" wrapped in a black robe. Its face and body were concealed.
The thing hunched over the fox's corpse, gnawing and gulping down its flesh, letting out grotesque crunching sounds—breathing like a beast.
Eating a spirit beast raw?
Everyone's expressions turned serious.
Hao Xuan was about to speak when Mo Hua signaled for silence. Only after moving the group farther back did he nod—permitting quiet conversation.
Hao Xuan whispered:
"What is that thing?"
"Human? Beast? Or… a demonic cultivator?"
"Could be a demon cultivator…" Situ Jian replied quietly.
"You guys know how to tell a demon cultivator apart?" Hao Xuan asked again. "Or—what's the difference between a demon cultivator and a devil cultivator?"
The group was a bit stunned.
In daily conversation, "demon" and "devil" cultivators were often lumped together. They didn't really know the differences.
Anyway, by Dao Court standards, both were to be killed on sight.
Mo Hua, seeing they were confused, thought for a moment and explained:
"According to the Dao Court's classification—'devil cultivators' refer to all cultivators who practice wicked, heretical paths. It includes, but isn't limited to: demon cultivators, corpse cultivators, heretic cultivators, ghost cultivators, devil cultivators, and so on."
"Each branch differs by practice method."
"Demon cultivators eat flesh, corpse cultivators refine corpses, heretics harvest vital energy, ghost cultivators refine souls, and devil cultivators drain others' spiritual power."
"Because the 'devil sects' are the strongest, most of the others tend to align with them. So generally speaking, all of them get labeled as devil cultivators."
These were things Mo Hua had carefully researched while working bounty missions—especially from his "Uncle Gu," Gu Changhuai.
Hao Xuan nodded in admiration:
"Little Senior Brother, you sure know your stuff."
Then he frowned.
"But this 'monster' eats demons, not humans. What would that make him?"
Situ Jian shook his head.
"Who says it hasn't eaten people? It's already eating a spirit beast raw—eating humans wouldn't be a stretch."
"Besides, it looks like its mind is unstable. The beastly side's taken over the human side."
Mo Hua nodded.
"Exactly."
He could sense that the "monster" had sentience, but its divine consciousness was disordered. It seemed that demonic energy had surged backward, scrambling its mind and reducing it to an animalistic state.
Situ Jian asked:
"So, what do we do?"
He glanced again at the creature, chewing bloody flesh with its bare hands. His brow tightened.
"Its aura's at least late Foundation Establishment… probably not easy to handle."
Mo Hua studied it for a moment, calculated in silence, and his gaze turned cold:
"We kill it."
"No capturing?" Situ Jian asked.
Mo Hua shook his head.
"It's too strong. We don't have the right to hold back. Strike to kill—don't hesitate."
"And if it is a demon cultivator, even keeping it alive might not get us answers."
"If it's hiding secrets, its corpse will 'speak' just fine."
Everyone exchanged glances, then nodded firmly:
"Understood!"
Mo Hua quickly laid out his plan in concise terms. Then he looked at Linghu Xiao and warned:
"Linghu, your sword skills are strong, but don't get reckless. Stick to the plan—coordinate with Situ and the others."
Linghu Xiao looked prideful but nodded sensibly.
He loved a good fight, but he wasn't foolish.
The team moved out according to the plan.
Mo Hua and Hao Xuan circled around to lay down formation arrays.
That creature, crazed and obsessed with blood, noticed nothing while feasting.
Once the formations were ready, Mo Hua gave Linghu Xiao a subtle nod.
Linghu Xiao slowly drew his sword. His aura surged. Spiritual energy flowed through his meridians, condensing sword force. His eyes lit up—sharp as a blade.
In the tense forest, the killing intent from his sword grew thicker.
Finally, as his sword energy reached its peak—the feasting monster paused.
Then, after a moment of stillness, it snapped its head toward Linghu Xiao.
Under its black robe, its face was hidden—but two vertical pupils glowed with bloodlust.
Linghu Xiao felt a chill in his chest—but at that moment, his sword qi had fully formed.
With a flick, his ancient longsword gleamed like moonlight.
A brilliant arc of Void-Piercing Sword Qi erupted, bright and fierce, cutting through the air like a sliver of killing moonlight—heading straight for the monster.
It was powerful.
The monster, though strong, instinctively recoiled from the blow.
It dropped to all fours, trying to flee.
But Mo Hua pointed—
A flash of sapphire light appeared, instantly transforming into watery chains that bound the monster's limbs.
Water Prison Technique!
Though the beast broke free within seconds, the delay was enough.
The full-powered Void-Piercing Sword Qi descended like moonlight upon a lake.
The blade slashed through its flesh.
The razor-sharp energy cleaved through the monster's robe and body.
Black blood sprayed in all directions.
The creature let out a furious roar, its feral aura bursting outward like a storm.
Everyone's pupils shrank.
Such terrifying demonic energy!
And with its robe torn open, the monster's true form was revealed—
A demon cultivator!
Though it crouched on all fours, its humanoid shape was clear. Under the robe, its skin was a reddish-brown, covered in long bristling hair.
Its hands had turned into claws like a beast.
Its head was still mostly shrouded, but a dog-like snout and fangs showed through. Its eyes were savage, its mind gone.
It looked like a fully demonized werewolf.
Mo Hua shouted coldly:
"Brother Yang!"
Yang Qianjun responded instantly, charging forward. His long spear tore through the air, carrying a glint of golden light, thrusting straight for the demon cultivator's throat.
He wore a custom-made set of armor—Cloudmount Armor.
Adorned with cloud patterns and steady as a mountain, it was embedded with both Wind and Earth-Element Arrays, offering solid defense without sacrificing mobility.
Yang Qianjun was also a body cultivator, though his approach differed greatly from Cheng Mo's.
Cheng Mo could endure and strike hard, well-suited for wearing heavy armor and holding the frontline alone.
Yang Qianjun, having been trained as a Dao soldier, was more adept at close-combat skirmishing.
With Cheng Mo injured, holding the line fell to Yang Qianjun.
Even though the demon cultivator's strength vastly exceeded his, Yang Qianjun didn't need to fight him to the death. His goal was simple: defend, counter when possible, and stall him up close.
And stall him he did.
The demon cultivator slashed wildly with beast-like claws, lunging like a wolf. But with its mind scrambled and running purely on instinct, its attacks were often dodged by Yang Qianjun's seasoned movements.
When dodging wasn't an option, Yang Qianjun relied on his Cloudmount Armor to tank the hits.
Every clash churned his blood and sent pain through his limbs, but he endured. For now.
From a distance, Situ Jian and Linghu Xiao began launching waves of sword qi.
Blazing Sword Qi and Void-Piercing Sword Qi crisscrossed through the air, shredding into the demon cultivator's flesh.
The battle in the forest grew increasingly fierce.
The demon cultivator's injuries worsened with every passing second.
But the first to reach their limit… would be Yang Qianjun.
Clashing head-on with such a powerful foe was exhausting. His focus couldn't waver for a second—one slip-up, and it'd be over.
As the demon cultivator's wounds worsened, it only grew more frenzied. Its attacks became faster, more savage.
Yang Qianjun gritted his teeth and held on. Mo Hua supported him from a distance with spells, helping divert some of the attacks—but even that was almost not enough.
Seeing this, Mo Hua called out:
"Hao Xuan."
Hao Xuan immediately crushed a Demon Stench Pill between his fingers.
This pill, refined from demon stench grass, carried a foul odor that—like the herb itself—drew demonic beasts.
As the stench spread through the forest, the demonized cultivator, reacting on raw instinct, halted mid-attack.
It sniffed the air, saliva dripping from its jaws stained with blood—its blood-red eyes instantly locked onto Hao Xuan.
Hao Xuan's hair stood on end.
Without hesitation—he turned and ran.
Moments later, the demon cultivator let out a roar and, trailing a stench-laced wind, charged after him.
Yang Qianjun finally had room to breathe. He immediately sat down, swallowed a recovery pill, and began restoring his spiritual power.
Meanwhile, the demon cultivator gave chase with incredible speed. Hao Xuan pushed his movement techniques to the limit, fleeing for his life.
But it wasn't aimless running.
He was drawing the demon into the trap, as Mo Hua had instructed.
Soon enough—the surrounding formations began to trigger one by one.
Trapping arrays like Quicksand Array, Earthen Prison, Golden Lock activated in sequence.
So did killing arrays like Earthfire Array, Ground Spike Array, and Golden Blade Array.
Thunder boomed through the forest.
Trees quaked, stones scattered, and the glow of the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams flared and flickered.
Linghu Xiao stared, dumbstruck.
Even Situ Jian and the others—well-acquainted with Mo Hua—were shaken.
"How many formations did Little Senior Brother bury here…?"
The answer? A lot.
And many were secretly mixed with seventeen-pattern, 2nd-rank high-grade introductory formations.
To stay low-profile, Mo Hua usually provided only 2nd-rank mid-grade formations for fellow disciples.
When he needed high-grade ones, he'd quietly slip them into the mix—so that only a few traps looked "unusually strong."
But just by watching, no one could tell those formations were secretly high-grade.
That said, usage of formations had its limits.
Even if Mo Hua could set them up, disciples like Situ Jian couldn't deploy high-grade arrays themselves just yet.
Dragged through an obstacle course of destruction, the demon cultivator was battered and burned—turning from a savage werewolf into a half-charred, mangy stray dog.
Finally—thud!—it dropped to its knees.
Yang Qianjun was ready to dash in and finish it off—but Mo Hua raised a hand to stop him.
"It's faking."
Yang Qianjun froze.
Situ Jian narrowed his eyes.
"If it's pretending to be dead… doesn't that mean…"
Mo Hua nodded.
"Its rationality has returned. The demonization has receded."
Situ Jian understood at once. He summoned a blazing Blazing Sword Qi, aiming straight for the creature's heart.
Linghu Xiao wasn't one to fall behind. At nearly the same time, he fired a Void-Piercing Sword Qi straight for the demon's forehead.
The fallen demon snapped its eyes open.
Those once savage, beast-like pupils now gleamed with cunning.
"Cunning little rats!" it cursed in its mind.
But with two deadly sword strikes coming, it had no choice but to dodge.
On all fours, it lunged and rolled, narrowly evading both fatal blows—then slowly stood.
In the dim light of the forest—
Its body shrunk, slowly shedding its beast form and reverting into a tall cultivator.
His robe was in tatters. His body, covered in wounds.
His face hidden beneath tangled, matted hair—only a pair of greedy eyes could be seen.
Mo Hua asked coldly:
"Who are you? Why are you in Demon-Taming Mountain?"
The demon cultivator let out a low laugh, gaze sinister, but said nothing.
Mo Hua hadn't expected him to answer anyway.
The question was just protocol.
Unless this guy was a complete idiot, there was no way he'd spill his secrets so easily.
Mo Hua struck instantly—a Fireball Spell shot toward him.
At the same time—Linghu Xiao, Yang Qianjun, Situ Jian, and Hao Xuan all attacked.
Five-on-one.
A chaotic brawl erupted once more.
Mo Hua's side fought with practiced teamwork. They were all fellow disciples, veterans in hunting spirit beasts.
Even Linghu Xiao—though from the Void-Piercing Sect—had spent time among the Great Void Sect disciples. He knew their combat styles well enough.
And being a natural sword genius, it only took a few exchanges for him to sync up with their coordination.
Meanwhile, the demon cultivator, having shed his beast form, had also lost much of his strength.
Not to mention—he was already severely injured from the formation gauntlet.
Now, facing spears, sword qi, and spells from every direction—he could barely keep up.
Within ten or so rounds, he was already on the backfoot—fully suppressed, barely able to defend himself.
And at that moment, a chill crept into the demon cultivator's heart.
I'm going to lose!
At most twenty more rounds—he would undoubtedly be defeated!
The demon cultivator realized this and stopped holding back. He bit his tongue, swallowed a drop of blood essence, and suddenly—strange, demonic patterns lit up on his arm.
Mo Hua's eyes widened in shock.
"That's…!"
Demon Runes?!
"Careful!" Mo Hua shouted immediately.
Yang Qianjun, mid-spear-thrust aimed at the demon's heart, instantly shifted into a defensive stance, raising his spear across his chest.
The demon cultivator's right arm flared with demonic light—then swelled grotesquely, turning into a monstrous, clawed limb wrapped in savage demonic energy. He slashed ferociously at Yang Qianjun.
The strike was devastating.
Yang Qianjun couldn't block it. His spear was knocked flying, his chestplate ripped apart, and his body was hurled through the air, crashing hard to the ground.
The demon cultivator stepped forward, intending to finish him off.
Situ Jian and the others rushed in to help.
But halfway there, the demon suddenly feinted and veered toward Situ Jian instead, exploiting the opening in their formation.
Situ Jian was caught off-guard.
Fortunately, Linghu Xiao reacted quickly, releasing a Void-Piercing Sword Qi toward the demon.
"Tch!" the demon clicked his tongue in annoyance, abandoning his attack and raising his monstrous arm to block the sword qi.
It tore through his flesh—but the demonized limb, brimming with demonic power, remained intact. The injury wasn't serious.
But the demon cultivator knew—it was over.
If he kept fighting, even if he managed to kill one or two of these little brats, he would still die here.
And dying here wasn't an option.
He must not leave behind a corpse!
He glared viciously at Linghu Xiao and the others, silently swearing vengeance. Then, without hesitation, he turned to flee.
"You're not getting away!" Situ Jian growled, furious.
He released a Blazing Sword Qi, forming a fiery blade that shot toward the demon's back.
Too fast to dodge—strike landed.
The demon stumbled, spat a curse, and kept fleeing.
Meanwhile, Linghu Xiao had condensed another wave of sword qi. With a flick of his fingers, a razor-sharp Void-Piercing Sword Qi howled through the air, aiming to cripple the demon's legs and prevent escape.
The demon's pupils shrank—but he just sneered.
With a wolf-like leap, he was nearly clear of the sword strike.
Almost.
Just then—Mo Hua raised a finger, silently casting Water Prison Technique.
The spell landed precisely.
The demon froze for a split-second, eyes twitching.
"This damned spell again?!"
With a roar, he broke free.
But that instant was all the sword qi needed. Though he barely avoided a direct hit to the thigh, the blade still grazed his lower leg, carving a bloody line.
The demon was furious.
"One day… I'll tear all these brats limb from limb!"
Wounded and seething, he no longer cared about appearances. He dropped to all fours like a rabid wolf and bolted.
In just a few blinks, he had darted dozens of meters away.
Linghu Xiao tried to condense more sword qi, but by the time he raised his hand—the demon was already far out of range.
The forest was layered and dense. The demon's figure grew smaller and smaller.
Linghu Xiao's divine sense couldn't even lock onto him anymore.
He could only watch—helplessly—as the enemy vanished into the trees.
Frustration boiled in his chest. But just as he was cursing inwardly—he paused.
Something stirred nearby—a familiar aura of metallic sword qi.
He turned.
At some point, Mo Hua had drawn a golden spirit sword.
It looked primitive, oddly shaped—but exuded a faint, eerie killing intent.
"Trying to run?" Mo Hua's voice was calm, cold.
His pupils turned pitch black—his gaze deep and unfathomable like an abyss.
A wave of divine sense surged forth, locking onto the sword in his hand.
At the same time, his consciousness firmly latched onto the fleeing demon's presence—over 150 meters away.
"Go."
Mo Hua whispered.
At once, a powerful ripple of divine thought burst forth.
The spirit sword vibrated, then transformed into a streak of golden light, tearing through the forest like a flash of lightning—a razor-sharp golden arc slicing toward the fleeing demon.
The demon had run far. He could almost see the edge of the forest.
He was just starting to relax—
When suddenly—a chill ran down his spine.
An overwhelming divine sense had locked onto him.
A cold, lethal aura—sharp and unnatural—raced toward him.
"What the hell?!"
He turned his head—
And saw it.
A thread of golden light. Sharp. Blinding. Deadly.
"Sword light…? Flying sword?!"
His pupils contracted violently.
At the brink of death, he activated every ounce of demonic energy. The runes on his right arm blazed to their limit. With everything he had, he threw the monstrous limb in front of his head and chest.
The golden sword hit.
Light burst forth.
Sword qi exploded. The spirit sword shattered.
The explosion ripped through the demon like a storm. A cloud of blood mist burst into the air.
His eyes clenched shut. Pain beyond anything he'd felt before seared through his right arm—it felt like it had been flayed by a thousand blades.
He flew back more than thirty feet, crashing to the ground.
When the ringing in his ears faded and his mind cleared—
His right arm was gone.
Half his body was drenched in blood, as if he'd been mauled by a pack of beasts.
Terror filled his eyes.
Clinging to life by a thread, he crawled into the shadows of the forest—his body disappeared from view.
Within ten seconds, Mo Hua arrived using Flowing Water Step.
The ground was soaked in blood. The demon was gone.
Mo Hua expanded his divine sense, swept the area—and suddenly gave a soft "Huh?"
He walked to a patch of rubble, then pulled out a severed arm, bloodied and bone-exposed.
It was the demon's arm.
Most of it had been torn to shreds by the sword qi—this was all that remained.
Faint lines could still be seen on the mangled flesh.
Mo Hua stared at them for a moment.
His brows lifted—his eyes lit up.
"As expected…"
"Four Symbols Formation Runes!"
(End of Chapter)