Chapter 242: Familiar

Mo Hua drew several arrays around and guarded Ji Li, watching out for other beast demons and cultivators.

After a while, Mo Hua's spiritual sense stirred, sensing a cultivator approaching.

He extended his spiritual sense, sensed the identity, relaxed inwardly, and called out: "Uncle Zhou, over here!"

Not far away, three beast hunters arrived, led by Zhou Cheng, Zhou Daping's father.

They had rushed to provide support following the trail of smoke and fire, heard the shout, immediately hurried over, and saw Ji Li lying on the ground, drenched in blood.

Seeing this, Zhou Cheng was startled and hurriedly asked: "How severe is the injury?"

"Stabilized for now, but we must get him down the mountain quickly for Grandpa Feng to treat him," Mo Hua said.

Zhou Cheng nodded, then asked Mo Hua: "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Mo Hua shook his head.

Zhou Cheng exhaled in relief, "Good."

Saving lives was urgent; Zhou Cheng said no more, signaled the others to carry Ji Li on a stretcher, and headed down the mountain.

Mo Hua waved goodbye to them, silently thinking: "I hope it's not too late."

Ji Uncle has only one son—Brother Ji.

Mo Hua did not follow them down the mountain; he still had things to do.

The black-clad giant still lay nearby, his form gruesome, unconscious but not yet dead.

Mo Hua had no time to deal with him now; when other beast hunters arrived, he would take the giant back and see if they could extract his origins.

"Oh, the storage bag."

Mo Hua suddenly remembered, ran to the giant's side, and retrieved the storage bag, half-destroyed by the explosion.

No time to examine it now; Mo Hua secured the storage bag, then took out the Si Nan Zi Mu Compass, studying it as he calculated:

"Brother Ji entered the mountains with Uncle Ji; since Brother Ji was being hunted, Uncle Ji must be in danger too."

"Moreover, this giant has deep cultivation and appears to have killed countless people—his accomplices, the criminal cultivators, are likely no easy foes."

Mo Hua located his own position on the Si Nan Compass and indeed spotted a bright dot not far to the south.

This meant the battle was still ongoing.

Mo Hua's gaze turned cold; he put away the compass and headed south.

The bright dot's location was a small hill.

Thick shrubs surrounded it, leaves piled thickly beneath, sparse trees stretching their branches to block the sunlight, casting the ground below into deep, secluded shadow.

When Mo Hua arrived, he indeed saw Ji Qingbai and two other beast hunters fighting.

Their opponents were three black-clad criminal cultivators.

Amid flickering light and shadow, blades flashed, spiritual energy surged; both sides were body cultivators, engaged in close-quarters combat, locked in a brutal stalemate.

The black-clad criminal cultivators held the advantage; Ji Qingbai's trio struggled desperately, barely holding on, gradually nearing collapse.

Mo Hua frowned.

Something was off.

The gap in cultivation levels and Dao techniques between both sides was not obvious, and two of the beast hunters wore iron armor.

Logically, three against three, even if outmatched, should not have ended in such dire straits.

At that moment, Mo Hua saw a shadow flicker beside Ji Qingbai—a blade flashed past.

At the last possible instant, Ji Qingbai sensed it, barely dodged, but his arm was slashed open, blood gushing.

The shadow struck once, then swiftly retreated, gradually vanishing from sight.

Ji Qingbai frowned deeply, his expression growing more solemn.

Mo Hua froze slightly.

Though it lasted only an instant, he had seen it.

The assassin wore black, was short in stature, and his gaze was venomous.

And he excelled at concealment…

Mo Hua had a suspicion; he released his spiritual sense. In the void-white expanse, residual spiritual traces of all things in heaven and earth appeared.

Behind a tree, a faint blue shadow emerged.

That shadow was familiar.

Mo Hua paused, then his eyes brightened: "So it's you!"

Earlier, when beast hunters defended the spirit mine, the Qian family hired cultivators to harass them; one cultivator skilled in concealment had caused them great losses.

Who would have thought he'd appear here again?

Mo Hua was slightly astonished: "He didn't die?"

He had assumed the concealment cultivator had been cut to pieces by the beast hunters' blades.

But even if alive, his injuries must be severe.

This cultivator's attacks now lacked his former decisiveness and ruthlessness; his movements were sluggish and clumsy.

His concealment technique was greatly weakened—he now needed the cover of trees and the interplay of light and shadow to hide properly.

Ji Qingbai's trio, three against three, should not have been so outmatched.

But with this concealment cultivator lurking nearby, the situation had completely changed.

They had to fight their opponents while guarding against the concealment cultivator's ambushes; any injury would make their position even more desperate.

A typical Qi Condensation Ninth Layer cultivator's spiritual sense could not pierce concealment techniques, and thus could not counter this concealment cultivator.

But this posed no problem for Mo Hua.

In Mo Hua's spiritual sense, the concealment cultivator's form was as clear as daylight—there was nowhere to hide.

He had already fallen into Mo Hua's hands during the struggle for the spirit mine; now that Mo Hua's spiritual sense had grown far stronger, his concealment technique was nothing but self-deception—like covering one's ears while stealing a bell.

Previously, he had escaped death from the hunter's chaotic blades—luck had been on his side.

But this time, Mo Hua had no intention of letting him go.

However, the immediate priority was to rescue Uncle Ji and the others.

Mo Hua hid in a corner beyond their spiritual sense reach, pulled out a bamboo tube, and ignited the signal fire.

Then Mo Hua moved to two other positions and fired off a signal fire each.

Mo Hua repeated his old trick, releasing more signal fires, hoping to scare them off.

The signal fires shot into the sky and drew the attention of the criminal cultivators; both sides halted their fighting.

But these criminal cultivators did not seem to fall for it.

One criminal cultivator said: "Earlier, these hunters fired signal fires for help—if anyone were coming, they'd have arrived by now. This person hiding behind and not acting is surely bluffing. Let's finish them quickly and kill them."

The other criminal cultivators all nodded.

Ji Qingbai, enduring his wounds, gritted his teeth: "We've never had any grudge against you. Why must you pursue us to total annihilation?"

The criminal cultivator said: "The Kong family paid spirit stones for your father and son's heads. Your son's head has probably already been delivered—now only yours remains."

Upon hearing this, Ji Qingbai's expression turned bleak.

"Enough talk—kill them quickly!" one-eyed leader among the criminal cultivators said coldly.

Thus, both sides fell silent and resumed combat, blades drawing blood, fists striking flesh, their assaults growing even more furious.

Mo Hua felt helpless—these criminal cultivators had not fallen for it.

If so, he could only act now, finding a way to buy time.

There were likely many more hunters nearby; if they saw the signal fires, they would come to reinforce.

All Mo Hua needed to do was stall the criminal cultivators until then.

On the small hill shaded by the great tree, Ji Qingbai and the two hunters still struggled to hold on.

Meanwhile, the black-cloaked stealth cultivator had found his opening and prepared to strike again.

Using Lin Mu as cover, he crept silently toward Ji Qingbai.

Ji Qingbai, believing his son was likely dead, fought recklessly, trading wounds for wounds—and thus exposed many openings.

The stealth cultivator's gaze turned venomous; he seized the moment, found the opening, and thrust his dagger.

The dagger flashed with cold light—when, at the last instant, a fireball technique suddenly appeared.

Before the dagger could pierce Ji Qingbai, the fireball technique struck the stealth cultivator's arm first, disrupting his attack.

Then the fireball exploded, crimson spiritual energy turning into roaring flame, burning his arm, spreading searing pain.

The stealth cultivator cried out in pain—and suddenly froze.

This scene… why did it feel so familiar?

Only two chapters today.