Chapter 138: Battle

Zhang Lan and the other two began surrounding and slaughtering the abandoned camp.

Soon after, a white-robed cultivator burst out of the camp.

His dao robe was elaborately styled and clearly expensive, but after half a month of flight, it was caked in mud and tattered.

His face resembled the portrait Mo Hua had seen, though far older, with patches of decaying skin peeling off.

It seemed that without feeding on others' essence, the demonic cultivation technique had backfired, causing his appearance to age and rot.

He was indeed the demonic cultivator who practiced essence-draining techniques.

After confirming this, Zhang Lan and the other two said not a word, immediately attacking without mercy.

The demonic cultivator spat an oath and began to fight back.

The battle erupted instantly.

Mo Hua stayed far away, secretly watching them fight.

Zhang Lan was a spirit cultivator, skilled in water-based spells, and his techniques were formidable. From a distance, he channeled his Qi, summoning waves of water-shaped sword qi that relentlessly struck the demonic cultivator.

Situ Fang and Situ Xiu were both body cultivators, specializing in sword techniques.

Situ Fang's blade was thin and light, wrapped in pale green spiritual energy, its movements swift and continuous. Situ Xiu fought with wide, sweeping strikes, channeling spiritual energy to ignite her flesh, her entire body glowing with a faint golden light.

The two closed in, engaging in close combat and pinning down the demonic cultivator.

The demonic cultivator, it seemed, was also a body cultivator, his blood qi surging; his weapon was an iron fan adorned with delicate, gossamer images of beautiful women.

Each swing of the iron fan released a pink spiritual energy ripple.

No wonder he was a demonic cultivator—even his spiritual energy's color was corrupt…

Mo Hua thought silently.

The demonic cultivator's cultivation level was likely Qi Condensation Ninth Layer—he was no match for Zhang Lan's trio, but his mobility was excellent, allowing him to evade Situ's attacks and dodge most of Zhang Lan's water-shaped sword qi.

Yet no matter how agile, under the three-pronged assault, he gradually began to falter.

Each sword qi that struck him deepened his wounds; each slash from Situ Fang caused more blood to spill.

Moreover, the pale green spiritual energy in his wounds prevented them from healing.

Before long, a sword qi from Zhang Lan struck him squarely, sending him crashing to the ground, motionless.

Mo Hua did not move until he saw Zhang Lan lock the demonic cultivator with shackles, then he stepped forward.

"Is he dead?" Mo Hua asked.

"No, this bastard's got a stubborn life."

Mo Hua scanned him with his spiritual sense and confirmed the demonic cultivator's spiritual energy was still flowing.

"Are all demonic cultivators this tough?" Mo Hua asked.

Zhang Lan said, "Not all, but most are troublesome. Demonic cultivation techniques, though riddled with drawbacks, are immensely powerful. Otherwise, why would so many fall into heresy?"

Mo Hua nodded.

With the demonic cultivator captured, all of them exhaled in relief.

Situ Xiu asked, "What now?"

Zhang Lan kicked the demonic cultivator. "Take this bastard back, deliver him to Dao Ting Si, interrogate him, then sentence him according to law. We'll also have to answer to Young Master An."

"Young Master An?" Mo Hua glanced at Zhang Lan.

Zhang Lan had slipped up; he looked up at the sky, pretending he hadn't spoken.

Situ Fang and Situ Xiu chopped several trees, fashioned a raft, placed the demonic cultivator on it, and prepared to drag him back.

Mo Hua stared at the demonic cultivator for a long time, then kindly offered a reminder:

"You need to break his legs."

"Huh?" Situ Fang froze.

"Sever his meridians! Shatter his dantian!"

Situ Fang stared, dumbfounded.

How could a child say such terrifying things with such a sweet expression…

Zhang Lan thought for a moment. "There's some sense to that."

Situ Fang hesitated. "He's already captured, no resistance left—wouldn't this be abusing our authority?"

"We've only temporarily restrained him—we haven't captured him yet," Mo Hua corrected.

"Is that even allowed…?" Situ Fang was uncertain.

But Zhang Lan had already drawn his sword, ready to sever the demonic cultivator's meridians.

Mo Hua had previously wondered why Zhang Lan, a spirit cultivator, carried a sword—he'd assumed it was just for show.

Now he understood: even spirit cultivators, relying solely on spells, still carried blades or knives for emergencies.

At least cutting meridians became far easier.

But before Zhang Lan's sword could strike, the demonic cultivator suddenly opened his eyes, shook his hands, and the shackles fell off.

Zhang Lan's gaze hardened; his blade accelerated downward.

The demonic cultivator twisted his body, avoiding vital points—the sword only scraped off a layer of skin.

"Watch out!" Zhang Lan shouted.

At the instant the demonic cultivator opened his eyes, Mo Hua had already retreated several zhang away.

Earlier, when he scanned with his spiritual sense, he'd sensed something odd about the demonic cultivator's spiritual energy.

But he hadn't expected the man's cunning to run so deep—or his life to be this resilient. Even after being battered and broken, he still had strength to fight back.

The demonic cultivator dodged Zhang Lan's sword and lunged a palm straight at Zhang Lan's face.

Zhang Lan's expression tightened; he stepped back to evade. The distance was too short to cast a spell—he could only counter with a backward thrust of his sword.

But the demonic cultivator didn't even block—he flickered sideways, appearing beside Situ Xiu, who was raising her blade to strike.

Sister Situ had intended to strike from behind while the evil cultivator was distracted, but the evil cultivator had already sensed him and used an eerie movement to circle to his side.

His ambush failed, and he was ambushed instead; the evil cultivator struck his ribs with a palm, spewing blood as he flew sideways.

The blow pierced his heart; strange spiritual energy seeped into his organs along with the force.

Only now did Sister Situ realize that this evil cultivator had not even used his full strength before.

But he realized it too late—he had no strength left to fight within this short time.

Sister Situ also drew her blade and slashed at the evil cultivator; after several exchanges, she suddenly felt her body grow weak, her meridians corroded by pink, sinister spiritual energy, her own spiritual energy unable to flow.

The evil cultivator's spiritual energy was poisonous!

She had not noticed it during earlier combat; the poison only began to take effect after a long time.

Sister Situ forced her qi to surge, then suddenly spat blood, glaring at the evil cultivator with furious hatred.

The evil cultivator licked his lips and looked at Sister Situ: "Good!"

He had not practiced cultivation through sexual vampirism for a month.

He needed to release his demonic fire, and he needed to absorb spiritual energy.

The evil cultivator's gaze swept over Sister Situ, his heart stirred; as he momentarily distracted, a pale blue sword qi pierced straight through his shoulder.

Enraged, the evil cultivator bled from the corner of his mouth and turned to look.

Zhang Lan, at a distance, pinched his fingers into a sword formation, his eyes cold as he stared at him.

Another tough opponent.

The evil cultivator collected his thoughts—he could not escape unless he eliminated Zhang Lan.

Even if he fled, within this treacherous Great Heishan, he could not last long.

His body was drained, demonic fire breeding—he needed to practice sexual vampirism.

As long as he killed Zhang Lan…

The evil cultivator's eyes flashed with deadly intent as he charged straight at Zhang Lan.

Zhang Lan's heart tightened—such swift movement!

This evil cultivator's movement was faster and more eerie than before—so he had indeed held back before…

"Fine, I'll face you!"

Zhang Lan's gaze sharpened; he activated the Falling Petals Step, and suddenly shadows upon shadows appeared, fluttering like falling blossoms.

The evil cultivator was startled.

This Dao Ting Si cultivator's movement was no weaker than his own.

He was a flower-plucking bandit—he lived by his movement!

The evil cultivator was trapped, yet he had no choice but to fight; after ten or so exchanges with Zhang Lan, he had not landed a single blow.

Meanwhile, Zhang Lan had already gauged his true strength; in his advances and retreats, he still had room to condense sword qi, intimidating the evil cultivator.

Just as Zhang Lan was about to seize the evil cultivator's opening and finish him with sword qi, the evil cultivator suddenly vanished.

Zhang Lan released his spiritual sense, yet sensed nothing.

Suddenly, a warning flared in his mind—he turned to Mo Hua far away and shouted urgently: "Watch out!"

At the same moment, a shadow flickered behind Mo Hua—the evil cultivator appeared, his voice hoarse and vicious:

"Brat, you want to break my legs?"