Chapter 281: Fury
Chapter 281: Fury
The tall evil cultivator was startled by these words and shook his head.
He dared not go against the fourth master's bad luck.
"Then, let's just leave that fat guy dead."
After a moment's pause, he asked, "Should we just feed him to the beast directly and save ourselves some trouble?"
"If that beast wanted to eat people, it would have done so already. It's picky and doesn't eat human flesh."
"How strange," the tall evil cultivator remarked in surprise.
"Indeed," came the reply.
The two evil cultivators dragged the fat man's corpse out and began cleaning the bloodstains in the room. Soon, they noticed the array at the binding demon chain seemed to have dimmed significantly.
Frowning, the tall cultivator asked, "Is this array broken, or has someone tampered with it?"
Mo Hua, hidden on the beam, was startled and contemplated whether he should take this opportunity to get rid of these two as well.
He had tampered with countless arrays in the Black Mountain Fortress. Usually, once an array master finished drawing an array, they wouldn't bother to check on it unless it stopped working. After all, there were too many large and small arrays in the fortress for him to inspect them all.
However, if these two noticed that the array had been tampered with and reported it to the third master, the evil cultivators would investigate thoroughly and might discover the traces Mo Hua had left behind when he broke the array.
Even if they didn't see through his actions, they would definitely heighten their guard. It would become much harder for Mo Hua to gather information if they became more cautious.
Mo Hua assessed the strength of the two evil cultivators, considering whether he could take them out right here.
He knew he couldn't do it alone, but with the help of the big tiger, they might stand a chance. If they worked together and struck secretly, taking out one and then dealing with the other together, they could probably manage it.
The short evil cultivator stepped forward to examine the array and asked, "Do you understand arrays?"
"No," the tall one shook his head.
"Then why are you acting like you know something?"
"But this array does seem a bit different, doesn't it?"
"How could it be any different?" the short cultivator argued. "It's just an array, and they all look the same to me."
"How can they be the same?" the tall cultivator persisted, still unsure.
The short cultivator whispered angrily, "Use that stupid brain of yours for once. If there was really a problem with the array, do you think this tiger demon would be lying here so obediently?"
The tall cultivator froze for a moment before nodding slowly, "That makes sense."
He glanced at the tiger demon, who was hanging its head low, lying obediently with an air of exhaustion.
The tall cultivator couldn't help but comment, "This demon beast seems rather well-behaved. I wonder why it suddenly bit that fat guy to death."
"Probably the fat guy did something to anger it, and that's why he lost his life. This kind of thing happens all the time. Newcomers just don't know their place..."
The tall cultivator nodded in agreement.
After that, the two stopped chatting and focused on cleaning the bloodstains on the ground.
Mo Hua felt relieved that they didn't dwell on the topic of the array.
Fortunately, these two were "array-blind" and completely clueless about arrays; otherwise, he would have had to come up with another plan.
Mo Hua glanced at the big tiger again and thought, You're on your own now. I've helped you as much as I can. Whether you can escape or not depends on your own abilities.
The tiger demon hung its head low and let out a soft "hum," as if it had truly heard Mo Hua's inner monologue.
Mo Hua shook his head. This big tiger was indeed too cunning.
Another day passed, and with most of his tasks completed, Mo Hua considered returning.
The fat monk had been dealt with, he had obtained Kong Cheng's jade pendant, drawn a rough map of the Black Mountain Fortress, and gathered as much information as he could.
More confidential information might be found in the rear fortress, but Mo Hua didn't dare to venture there, as the cultivators there were more powerful.
It was probably best to stop here.
However, before leaving, Mo Hua had one more dilemma—the fireball technique manual of the pale-faced man.
He had been keeping an eye on the pale-faced man for several days, planning to steal the manual, copy it, and then return it without anyone noticing. But he hadn't found a single opportunity.
The pale-faced man kept his storage bag close to him at all times and treasured the fireball technique manual dearly.
As for Kong Cheng, it would be easy to kill him, but leaving no traces behind would be challenging.
Mo Hua sighed.
It seemed like he would have to come up with another plan later.
That night, Scarface and the pale-faced man were still on guard duty, huddled around a fire, eating unappetizing meat and drinking awful wine.
Mo Hua remained hidden nearby, listening in.
He planned to return home tomorrow, but for tonight, he wanted to listen by the wall one last time to see if he could gather any new information.
Scarface and the pale-faced man drank and chatted, either complaining, telling lewd stories, or just rambling on about meaningless things. Nothing they said seemed to be of any value.
Mo Hua was getting tired when, just as he considered leaving that very night, the two men started talking about practicing evil cultivation techniques.
The pale-faced man sighed and said, "My 'spirit slave' died. What bad luck. Now I have to raise another one."
Scarface snorted, "Isn't it because you sucked too hard?"
"Even if I did, could it be worse than what you did to your 'cauldron'?" the pale-faced man retorted, clearly unhappy.
"However bad it is, she's still alive, isn't she?"
"She might as well be dead. It would be better if she died," the pale-faced man muttered.
"What? Feeling sympathetic now?" Scarface asked with a mocking smile.
"I'm not like you. I know how to cherish a woman. If I learned the technique of plucking and replenishing, I would definitely treat her well..." the pale-faced man said.
Scarface gave a cold laugh. "Who are you trying to fool?
Mo Hua searched through several rooms until he found the one housing the woman the scar-faced man had mentioned.
She was confined alone in a sparsely furnished room with simple food. Unchained and free to move about, she was, however, prohibited from leaving the room.
The night was dark, and the cold moonlight seeped through the window, casting an eerie glow within.
The woman lay listlessly on the bed, her hair disheveled and her clothes tattered. Bruises marred her delicate and pitiful form. Though her eyes were dry, it seemed she had cried herself out.
Suddenly, she slowly sat up, taking a wooden hairpin from her bedside. Hesitation crept into her eyes as she held it over her heart, her hands trembling. Eventually, she resigned herself to her fate and lay back down, clutching a fragrant pouch embroidered with a pair of mandarin ducks—a symbol of love between soulmates.
Mo Hua recalled his mother telling him about such pouches, exchanged between lovers as a token of their commitment.
Her thoughts were likely consumed by worries about her husband's safety. Despite enduring torment and losing her dignity, she clung to life.
But now, with her husband dead, her future held nothing but endless agony and suffering. Her perseverance was merely a stubborn refusal to succumb to her torturous existence.
Mo Hua wanted to save her, but he knew he couldn't. His cultivation was insufficient, and his magic was not strong enough. While he could conceal himself and trap his enemies, he lacked the prowess for combat.
It would take too long to go for help, and by then, this woman wouldn't have the strength to hold on.
Feeling dejected, Mo Hua sighed and softly spoke, "Your husband is already dead."
The woman turned to him, her voice hoarse as she asked, "Really?"
Though her voice lacked surprise, the bond between husband and wife had likely given her an inkling, but she refused to accept it, desperately clinging to a shred of hope.
"The scar-faced man said so himself."
"Oh..." The woman's dried-up tears began to flow once more.
"He's already... gone."
Silence enveloped the room as the woman wept silently, her sobs muffled.
"Thank you," she whispered, unsure of who had spoken to her, but the voice was young, perhaps that of a child.
How could a child be in this filthy and terrifying place? Perhaps a fairy's attendant, unable to bear witnessing her suffering, had chosen to tell her the truth.
Did fairies truly exist in this world?
If they did, she prayed not for salvation from her torment but for the damnation of those responsible for her misery.
In silence, she made her wish, clutching the fragrant pouch in her left hand while driving the hairpin into her heart with her right.
Her clothes were stained red with blood, like poppies in the night.
With a serene and liberated expression, she slowly closed her eyes.
"Husband, this life has been too cruel. If there's another life, let's be soulmates again."
These were her final words, whispered just before she closed her eyes.
Witnessing this, Mo Hua's young face wore a sorrowful expression, soon replaced by blazing fury.
In this world, those who deserved to die still lived, while those who deserved a good life suffered a miserable end.
The moon cast a chilling light, and Mo Hua's eyes, reflecting the cold night, grew colder still.
He had made up his mind. Before leaving, he would make sure that scar-faced man died!
(End of Chapter)
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