Chapter 87: A Fierce Battle

At this moment, the White-Browed Demon was hiding in a cave behind a farmer’s house at the foot of Mount Changbai. Last time, the ferocious pursuit by the national security forces, coupled with a full-force strike from that man named Long, had cost him dearly. He had indeed suffered grave internal injuries and, in the end, was forced to use his sect’s secret life-saving technique to escape. As a result, his cultivation was greatly diminished, and he even lost his most prized avatar.

Due to his many enemies, once word got out that his wounds hadn’t healed, they all came after him, intent on finishing him off. In those days, he lived like a stray dog, fleeing for his life day and night.

To recover quickly, ordinary boys and girls were no longer enough for his needs; only a boy with spiritual roots could help restore his strength. Normally, he would never attempt such a thing, for it would risk crossing the Four Great Clans and incite their wrath—a deadly affair, so he had always acted with utmost caution. Who would have thought fate would throw him a lifeline? Someone actually contacted him, offering to exchange a single-rooted girl from Zhang San’s hands for ten multi-rooted boys. Recalling those bitter, desperate days on the run, the White-Browed Demon gritted his teeth and agreed without hesitation.

Perhaps it was the chaos of constant flight, but he was ill-informed and had no idea that the single-rooted girl causing such a stir in the martial world had a formidable backing. He still believed it was merely a power struggle among the great clans for resources, muttering to himself, “Who knew single-rooted ones were so sought-after!”

In fact, while Zhang San and Yaya were living in the valley, the White-Browed Demon had been lurking nearby. However, with so many cultivators in the area, he dared not make a move, fearing he wouldn’t escape the net. Unexpectedly, the Twin Freaks of Tianshan unwittingly aided him by bringing Yaya out, delivering her right into his hands.

He left the Twin Freaks of Tianshan barely clinging to life, trapping their bodies with a secret art, and took the girl to City B. After the exchange for the boy, he found a secure place to dispose of the Twin Freaks’ corpses and set up the scene as instructed before hurrying back to the mountain to cultivate.

Why, one might wonder, did he not flee far after completing his mission, but instead lingered at the mountain’s foot, courting capture? The answer: the White-Browed Demon firmly believed the most dangerous place was the safest. Moreover, with the spiritual-rooted boy in hand, he was confident his injuries would heal swiftly. Unless the ancient monsters of the great clans themselves appeared, he paid these small fry no heed.

He noticed the security forces shadowing him almost as soon as they arrived. Having spent a lifetime dealing with souls, how could he not sense a group of powerful energies skulking about? But now, fully recovered and stronger than before, he dismissed them entirely, focusing solely on absorbing the spiritual blood he had just taken.

As for Commander Long, having lost the Xuanyuan Sword and with the other two Foundation Establishment cultivators absent, he dared not act rashly. Only when Long San brought news of Zixuan’s guarantee did he give the order: surround the farmhouse, tie up the two old farmers inside, and wait for the White-Browed Demon to appear.

Truth be told, Commander Long dared not provoke the White-Browed Demon now, not after his bitter defeat last time—his wounds had yet to heal. If not for the irresistible conditions offered by Zixuan and her companion, he’d have never fought such a risky battle. To place his fate in another’s hands was a galling thing indeed.

Moments later, the White-Browed Demon emerged from the cave, though whether he had finished absorbing the spiritual blood or simply cared about the old couple was unclear.

A man with a ruddy face stepped out, laughing. “Long Wei, it seems you really are persistent. Why didn’t you bring the Xuanyuan Sword? And your two helpers are absent as well. Daring to besiege me alone—your courage has grown.”

“Enough talk. Make your move!” Commander Long, with a warrior’s bearing, glared at the White-Browed Demon, determined to show no weakness with backup at hand.

“Heh heh! Long Wei, you truly are bold now. I wonder if killing a Foundation Establishment cultivator will make me famous?” The White-Browed Demon twirled his horsetail whisk, grinning lewdly. Glancing around and confirming no one was coming to Long’s aid, he laughed loudly, “Today, you’ll leave your life here!” With a flick of his finger and a muttered incantation, six robust, imposing figures materialized beside him. Their eyes were glassy, but when his chant ended, they seemed to come alive, brimming with vitality.

Seeing the White-Browed Demon make his move, Long Wei responded, drawing a seal in the air and pushing it forward—a giant talisman shot toward his foe.

But the White-Browed Demon stood his ground, unafraid. With a gesture, the six figures moved into formation, black mist swirling around them. From within, dreadful cries and wails echoed—pleas for help, cries of injustice, laughter, sobbing—all mingling in a cacophony that would make one’s hair stand on end, enough to make the faint of heart soil themselves.

“Ha ha! Taste my new technique!” The White-Browed Demon’s laughter, mingling with the screams in the black mist, was enough to shake anyone’s resolve. The black mist quickly formed a circle, repelling Long Wei’s seal. Then, before Long Wei could react, countless black hands emerged from the mist, reaching toward those surrounding him. The nearest man was instantly ensnared, the black mist wrapping around him so tightly he couldn’t struggle, and he soon collapsed.

The black hands continued to spread, ensnaring two more people. Long Wei shouted anxiously, “Everyone, move! Don’t let the black mist touch you!” Even as he shouted, he hurled fireballs—concentrated fire essence—at the black hands. Wherever the fireballs struck, there came a wretched scream as the black mist shrank away.

Seeing the fireballs’ effect, Long Wei cast several more, gradually gaining control in one area. He turned to drive the black mist back on another front, but as soon as he cleared one side, the other flared up again, black hands constantly reaching outward. The lesser cultivators were helpless; any who encountered the black hands fell instantly.

Two more by Long Wei’s side were caught, desperately crying, “Commander! Save me—save me! Ah!” He couldn’t stand by and watch his men fall; channeling his spiritual power, he struck at the black hands, attempting to free them. But in a moment’s carelessness, he too was ensnared.

As the black mist bound Long Wei, a wisp of it began to burrow toward his spiritual core. If not removed quickly, he would soon be under its control. With no alternative, he stopped moving and focused all his spiritual power to seize that wisp, trying to dispel it with his own energy.

When Zixuan and Tang Wei arrived, they found the scene in chaos: black mist nearly enveloped the entire mountain villa, security personnel running and screaming, but unable to outrun the spreading tendrils. One by one, they were caught and transformed into human puppets under the White-Browed Demon’s command.

One man, unable to evade, collapsed at Zixuan’s feet. Without hesitation, Zixuan, her heart racing, drew her weapon and slashed at the black hands. The sword gleamed with spiritual light, as if wielded by a celestial being. Channeling her energy into the blade, the black hands recoiled with a shriek and withdrew. Zixuan grabbed the man at her feet, tossed him aside, and pressed on, determined to save as many as she could.

Before she left, she called to Tang Wei, “Weiwei, be careful! Use fire essence as your shield—this stuff seems afraid of spiritual energy!” Without waiting for a reply, she charged forward.

Just then, a black hand reached for Tang Wei. Remembering Zixuan’s words, Tang Wei summoned her fire essence, a faint flame flickering over her body. As the black hand approached, it recoiled with a cry and retreated.