Chapter 288

Mo Hua finished speaking and licked his lips.

His lips were bright red, glowing under the chamber's crimson light, appearing somewhat sinister.

The Third Chief's heart skipped a beat.

He really is an ancient demon!

These cultivators of evil arts mostly draw essence, absorb spiritual energy, drink blood—they've never truly resorted to eating people as a cultivation method.

In other words, any technique that allows one to cultivate by eating people isn't ordinary—it's an authentic demonic cultivation method, beyond the reach of these half-baked evil cultivators.

Then the Third Chief thought of another problem.

This ancient demon wants to eat people, but there's only one person in the room—he can only eat me…

Cold sweat poured down the Third Chief's back as his mind raced, calculating frantically.

He couldn't just sit and wait to die, but if he moved first, he had no idea what strange powers this eerie ancient demon possessed.

But soon we understood.

The Eighth Chief was behind, the other evil cultivators in front, Mo Hua in the middle.

Mo Hua didn't say it outright, but the Third Chief understood—he was picking a few people to eat.

The Eighth Chief's heart lurched; then he understood.

If all the evil cultivators die, I'm perfectly satisfied.

"Since I don't know your old senior's tastes, what kind of people you prefer, let me guide you—you can choose for yourself."

"Oh?" Mo Hua raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. "Then pick a few for me."

Mo Hua watched, nodding repeatedly.

Then he kindly invited the Eighth Chief: "Want to join in?"

An ancient demon who has lived for ages and wields forbidden arts like soul possession—his thoughts are twisted, his moods unpredictable; to toy with us would be effortless.

"Open the door." The Eighth Chief ordered.

"You're pretending to be dead right before my eyes?"

Once we leave Great Heishan, out of the Eighth Chief's sight, and I activate my concealment, those evil cultivators won't be able to touch me.

I only hope this ancient demon remembers our favor, doesn't bother us, eats his fill, and departs peacefully—that's enough.

Mo Hua smiled faintly. "You want to watch me eat?"

The Eighth Chief immediately bowed. "Old senior, please enjoy yourself—I won't disturb you further."

Though I'm an evil cultivator, practicing evil arts and painting evil arrays, I've never actually eaten a person—it's not my style.

Eating people to cultivate must be an extraordinary demonic technique.

"Old senior, what kind of person do you wish to eat?"

The Eighth Chief nodded slightly and called over Scarface; seeing the grotesque, jagged scar on his face, he thought inwardly:

This evil cultivator who practices essence-draining, kills without mercy—Mo Hua wants to kill him, but hasn't yet.

As they neared the gate of Great Heishan, Mo Hua had already pointed out seven evil cultivators.

The Eighth Chief asked: "Is there… anything else you require?"

As they stepped out of the room, the mist thickened abruptly, the stench of blood grew stronger, and the atmosphere lost its oppressive weight.

The Eighth Chief led the group down a secluded path, turning right, then left, until they reached a quiet, remote forest in Shenshan.

What exactly is this great ghost's origin? Is his status even lower than the Eighth Chief's?

Since it's a demonic technique, its cultivation must never be witnessed by outsiders.

Still, an excuse must be found, and the ones to be "eaten" must still be selected.

A demonic soul-possession ancient demon—even if his cultivation is low—his methods are treacherous and venomous, not to be underestimated.

The surroundings were desolate, shrouded in mist, dotted with shrubs and flat mountain rocks.

After careful thought, the Eighth Chief bowed.

The several evil cultivators exchanged glances, confused.

The several evil cultivators exchanged glances, stunned beyond words.

The Eighth Chief's expression froze.

Because the Eighth Chief suddenly struck—his hand like a claw, spiritual energy condensed into mercury—piercing through the hearts and chests of those evil cultivators, one after another.

The ones who could be eaten were no longer the evil cultivators inside the stockade.

The Eighth Chief intended to lure the ancient demon out, let him eat his fill, then escort him out of Great Heishan.

So the Eighth Chief led the way from behind, personally dismantling the blood array and opening the beast gate, guiding Mo Hua out.

Moreover, if I behave well and impress the Eighth Chief, I'll surely be favored by him later.

Scarface was shaken.

The Eighth Chief actually asked the great ghost if he had any "instructions"?

"Please."

The Eighth Chief understood.

Mo Hua extended his large hand, pointing remotely at Scarface.

"This old senior's tastes are heavy—he eats even this? Truly doesn't pick his food…"

He glanced around and noticed that although the Eighth Chief walked behind, he seemed to be guiding the great boy.

What does this great ghost do?

Mo Hua, who had secretly infiltrated Great Heishan, now walked out calmly and confidently, surrounded by the cluster of evil cultivators.

Killing a few evil cultivators to earn this ancient demon a favor—this deal is worth it.

Pointing out too many isn't enough to "eat"; too few, and I fear the Eighth Chief won't believe me.

The Eighth Chief glanced at Mo Hua and sought his opinion.

The Eighth Chief quickened his pace until he reached the edge of the forest, sensed Mo Hua's spiritual awareness, and only then relaxed.

Mo Hua followed the Eighth Chief calmly, walking along the path; whenever he encountered familiar evil cultivators who preyed on the young, he extended a finger and struck hard, picking them out.

"Is there any way the junior can be of service?" asked the Third Chief, bowing.

Scarface understood, but dared not speak up to ask.

I'm only at Qi Condensation Fourth Layer; I cannot escape from the Foundation Establishment Eighth Chief.

Staying here myself violates that old demon's taboos.

Their goals aligned; both understood without speaking.

Where's the big ghost yet?

What is the identity of that big ghost? How could it make the Eighth Chief lead the way behind it?

Mo Hua merely said calmly: "How do you eat something alive?"

The Third Chief, deeply wary, forced himself to say:

I lack a furnace body; my demonic fire is excessive and unstable—I now urgently need a male cultivator to absorb from.

We are not enough to play with that old demon.

Besides me, this Great Heishan stockade contains other evil cultivators and imprisoned cultivators.

Now that we've just happened to meet, Mo Hua has no objection to "eating" them.

Scarface's heart burned with fury.

Mo Hua walked calmly behind the Eighth Chief, exiting the Blood Pill Room.

Some say this place lies deep within Great Baishan; others say it's inside Great Heishan stockade.

When I left, I sensed a subtle spiritual awareness, faintly following me.

Mo Hua's heart leapt, yet he feigned hesitation, pondered briefly, then nodded slightly and said:

"Is the junior's offering satisfactory?"

The Eighth Chief's heart jolted—he knew the old demon feared him spying and was watching him.

The Eighth Chief's claws pierced through his chest from behind.

"That's fine then."

The group passed through the great gate of Great Heishan stockade.

Scarface was the most alert—he had already thought of fleeing the moment Mo Hua said, "How do you eat something alive?"

What are you picking them for?

I was counting on that demonic sect's old demon to guide or assist us.

Choosing these people to feed to that old demon seems grossly disrespectful.

The Third Chief exhaled softly.

It was both precaution and warning.

Scarface activated the mechanism; the gate of Great Heishan stockade appeared, the great door creaking open.

The night was pitch black; dawn had not broken.

Seeing the Eighth Chief had not gone far, Mo Hua drew the Thousand-Pound Rod from his storage bag, stepped beside Scarface, and smashed it down on his forehead.

Mo Hua licked his lips again. "Anything's fine—I'm too hungry to be picky."

Mo Hua also wanted to leave Great Heishan stockade.

Mo Hua nodded slightly, indicating this place was perfect.

With my current spiritual awareness, even deep within Great Baishan, there are still cultivators who could pierce my concealment technique.

"Eating people" must be done in a quiet, desolate place.

The Eighth Chief wanted to send me away.

Soon they reached the bonfire beyond the great gate of Great Heishan stockade; Mo Hua's eyes flickered as he spotted the night guard—Scarface.

The Eighth Chief summoned the evil cultivators Mo Hua had pointed out.

The two walked down the broad path of the Blood Pill Room, both silent.

The Eighth Chief said: "Junior's kindness is deeply appreciated, but the junior may enjoy it alone."

How do you eat something alive? What did that mean?

Scarface spat blood and collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

The imprisoned cultivators had either had their spiritual energy drained or been absorbed from—they long ago suffered irreparable damage to their foundations, their blood and qi weak.

These evil cultivators didn't understand, but the Eighth Chief gave orders; they dared not disobey, and since the Eighth Chief didn't explain, they dared not ask—only followed silently.

Then he saw Mo Hua, his expression momentarily stunned.

Outside Great Heishan stockade, talking too much won't kill you—but it will make you die sooner than others.

"Yes," Scarface respectfully affirmed, his heart fluttering with excitement.

If we anger that old demon, our Great Heishan stockade will face great trouble.

The Eighth Chief ordered Scarface: "You go with him—there's something to do."

Lead the way?

The Eighth Chief personally gave orders—it must be something important: perhaps a killing, a raid for spirit stones, or even capturing a male cultivator.

I usually conceal myself to gather intelligence; I've seen too many evil deeds, too many wicked evil cultivators—I only regret my insufficient cultivation, unable to kill them.

As long as I'm not eaten.

With that, the Eighth Chief turned and hurried away.

The Eighth Chief, as if it were natural, led Mo Hua—the "old demon"—deeper inside; Mo Hua secretly rejoiced, showing no expression, following the Eighth Chief's intentions inward.