Chapter 256: Demon-Stench Grass

Lu Hui was actually struck by him—this was something the Bald Monk never expected.

He simply couldn't understand how Lu Hui had half-dodged, then suddenly stopped dodging.

Was he being overconfident, deliberately not dodging this slash?

But the opportunity was rare; after a moment of stunned hesitation, the Bald Monk snapped back to his senses and slashed again, aiming at Lu Hui's lower body.

Lu Hui's chest throbbed with agony; seeing this treacherous slash, his heart turned cold—he strained to break free of the Water Prison spell and retreated backward.

But bound by the Water Prison spell, he was half a beat too slow—his thigh was still cut by the Bald Monk.

Enraged, Lu Hui endured the pain and struck back with his sword—fast, ruthless—a single thrust pierced the Bald Monk's right chest.

The Bald Monk's eyes gradually lost focus, and he collapsed to the ground.

Lu Hui, drenched in his own blood, slowly sank down as well.

In this secluded forest, the two fought to the death, blood flowing freely, until they finally wounded each other and fell beneath each other's blades.

This scene perfectly matched the story Mo Hua had pre-designed in his mind.

Mo Hua nodded, thoroughly satisfied.

Zhang Lan, beside him, was stunned.

What kind of technique is this? Where did this child Mo Hua learn it?

It's truly a death trap that kills without consequence…

Seeing Mo Hua's confident demeanor, he knew Mo Hua had a plan to deal with Lu Hui—but he never imagined the plan would be so unexpected.

He secretly cast a minor spell, used the enemy's blade to kill the enemy, effortlessly burying Lu Hui alive.

Lu Hui and the Bald Monk died together—it was perfectly reasonable, flawless.

"Go take a look?" Mo Hua asked.

Zhang Lan snapped out of his daze, nodded—but still delayed a moment, waiting for Lu Hui's blood to flow longer, before walking with Mo Shan toward the two fallen men.

Mo Hua followed behind them.

The three reached Lu Hui and the Bald Monk, carefully checking their breaths, then exchanged glances, expressions filled with regret.

The Bald Monk wasn't dead—Lu Hui's thrust had struck his right chest, missing the heart meridian—he still had a breath left.

Lu Hui had lost too much blood and was temporarily unconscious, but his chest wound wasn't severe, so he wasn't dead either.

"Are bad people really this hard to kill…" Mo Hua muttered.

What should we do now?

Lu Hui is a Diansi of Dao Ting Si—should we just let him die?

Mo Shan and Mo Hua both looked at Zhang Lan.

Zhang Lan sighed. "I'm so tired."

Then he found a spot and sat down leisurely. "The scenery here is nice. Let's rest."

Mo Hua glanced around—the forest was remote, surrounded by dead trees, the ground covered in fallen leaves—where was the scenery?

But Mo Hua nodded. "The scenery is indeed fine."

Then he sat down heavily, pulled out wine, meat, and snacks from his storage pouch, and the three ate together in cheerful spirits.

Lu Hui lay alone beside them, bleeding.

After a while, Lu Hui still wasn't dead—not only that, he slowly regained consciousness, murmuring weakly, his voice filled with pain.

His right hand trembled as he pulled a pill from his storage pouch, swallowed it, and after absorbing its power, the bleeding from his chest gradually stopped.

Mo Shan drew his blade, intending to finish him off—but Zhang Lan held him back.

Zhang Lan shook his head. "Don't dirty your hands."

Lu Hui struggled to rise, saw Zhang Lan and the other two, his expression shifting—hating them for not helping, yet fearing they would kill him outright.

Zhang Lan feigned concern. "Diansi Lu, are you alright?"

Lu Hui forced a smile. "Thanks to Diansi Zhang, I'm not dead yet."

"Good. I was quite worried about your serious injuries."

Lu Hui smiled without warmth. "Thank you for your concern, Diansi Zhang."

But inside, he silently cursed: "Concern? You're worried I won't die?"

A venomous glint flashed in Lu Hui's eyes.

He'd remember this debt—he'd settle it with them later.

But he dared not show his hatred, hiding it deep within, lest he anger Zhang Lan and Mo Shan and be silenced for good.

Lu Hui smiled. "Your kindness, I shall never forget. Let me sit and meditate for a while, then we can resume our journey back?"

Zhang Lan nodded. "Alright."

So Lu Hui resumed meditation, healing his wounds.

Mo Shan and Zhang Lan bound the barely breathing Bald Monk with chains.

Mo Hua glanced at the Bald Monk, his expression showing distaste.

This Bald Monk is such a waste—he couldn't even kill Lu Hui, squandering the perfect opportunity I provided.

Lu Hui was just lucky—his blade missed the vital spot, so he didn't die.

But Mo Hua wasn't in a hurry—this was Great Heishan, the hunters' territory, effectively his own domain.

Lu Hui would never walk out alive.

After Lu Hui had rested enough to move, they all rose and set off, escorting the bound Bald Monk along the mountain path back.

As they reached a fork in the path, Mo Hua suddenly quickened his pace and turned down the left trail.

Mo Shan's eyes flickered—he understood at once, and followed Mo Hua down the path.

Zhang Lan, unfamiliar with the mountain trails, naturally followed Mo Hua.

Lu Hui, who came from Qingxuan City and knew nothing of Great Heishan, carefully guarded himself but could not sense anything amiss about this path, so he naturally walked right in.

This mountain trail was no different, except that it was narrower and more desolate.

The mist was light, and the miasma was not particularly thick.

Lu Hui suspected nothing, merely walking along until suddenly he caught a pungent, foul stench.

He looked around and saw the stench came from a herb in Mo Hua's hand.

Lu Hui frowned and asked, "Young brother, what herb is that in your hand?"

Mo Hua did not hide it from him: "It's Yao Xingcao."

"What's it used for?"

Seeing Lu Hui didn't recognize it, Mo Hua said: "There are many demonic beasts in the mountains; this herb's foul stench repels them."

Lu Hui was not a demon hunter; upon hearing this, he found nothing suspicious.

"Can I take a look?"

"Sure."

Mo Hua handed Yao Xingcao to Lu Hui without hesitation.

Lu Hui took it and examined it closely; the herb showed no abnormalities, no tampering—aside from its extreme stench, there was nothing unusual.

Could this brat really be holding this herb just to repel demonic beasts?

As Lu Hui walked and thought, he suddenly realized Mo Hua and the others had silently moved ahead, now ten paces in front of him.

Lu Hui froze; before he could think further, a chilling coldness brushed his back.

He slowly turned his head and saw two demonic beasts had appeared on either side of the forest behind him.

One had red skin and fangs, drooling saliva; the other had white fur and long horns, its eyes blood-red.

Both demonic beasts stared fixedly at him.

Lu Hui's soul nearly fled his body—he suddenly understood.

Yao Xingcao, Yao Xingcao—the smell is foul and rotting.

Cultivators dislike it, but demonic creatures love it—how could it possibly repel them?

This Yao Xingcao is used to attract demonic beasts!

And now, this Yao Xingcao that attracts demonic beasts, was in his own hands.

"Fuck! This brat tricked me!"

Lu Hui flew into a rage and hurled the Yao Xingcao away—but it was too late; the two demonic beasts had already locked onto him and lunged forward.

Lu Hui's injuries had not healed, but at this moment, he no longer cared.

He pushed his Qi to its limit, his blood surging, and sprinted with all his strength.

If caught by these beasts, he would surely be devoured today; at this life-or-death moment, even if his wounds split open and blood seeped out, he could not afford to care.

Lu Hui pushed his body technique to its peak—and indeed, he outpaced the beasts by a hair, widening the distance between them, and the pressure on his back lessened slightly.

At that moment, Lu Hui saw Mo Hua ahead turn back and smile at him.

"What's this brat smiling about?"

Lu Hui paused slightly, then saw Mo Hua raise his small hand, clench his palm loosely, then squeeze it gently.

A mysterious and eerie Qi suddenly appeared, coalescing into water chains that instantly bound him!

In the blink of an eye, Lu Hui understood everything.

Why had the Bald Monk, despite his incredible speed, always failed to escape? Why had he, despite being able to dodge that blade, still not avoided it?

"Is it this treacherous brat?!"

Lu Hui understood—but it was already too late.

The Water Prison Technique had locked him in place.

In less than two breaths, the demonic beasts caught up to him; their gaping jaws opened, and their fangs pierced through his shoulder.