Chapter 37: 037 Demon (Part 3)

Almost a week has passed since parting from Wang Wu, and in that time Zhu San Niang has been quite unhappy.

After all, how does the saying go? It is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to return from luxury to frugality.

Zhu San Niang, of course, has never heard that saying, because she never studied and doesn't recognize many characters.

Watching the people bustling in the pit far away, Zhu San Niang has no particular thoughts; she neither intends to eat them nor to go and kill them.

If not for the purpose of eating people, a monster generally would not trouble humans.

Of course, the main reason is that among those people there are experts, and they are not few; Zhu San Niang does not think she alone can handle this well‑armed group.

If it weren't for that reason, she wouldn't mind robbing them, because even without eating them, their belongings could be taken and used.

"He…"

After staring that way for a while, Zhu San Niang let out a cold laugh, her body instantly exploded, turning into countless spiderlings the size of a baby's fist, crawling toward the tree.

The great pit emits an aura, a scent extremely tempting to monsters, constantly tugging at Zhu San Niang's nerves, beckoning her forward.

But Zhu San Niang is not an ordinary monster; she is a world‑wise monster, one who once served as a minor leader under the Demon King.

That aura continues to spread outward in all directions, its purpose clearly to lure nearby monsters.

Therefore, she won't be fooled. She knows it's definitely a trap set by those damned human Daoists; they must have some grand scheme.

"That monster left."

In the distance, beyond the great pit, a tall skinny Daoist glanced at the massive tree where Zhu San Niang had stood, then spoke to his two companions.

The two companions, hearing him, also looked that way, but quickly averted their gaze, evidently indifferent.

"No problem, it's just a hundred‑year‑cultivation spider demon. With the three of us here, it wouldn't dare act rashly. However... we must hurry, or the monsters will keep increasing." The female Daoist among them flicked the dust‑sweeping staff in her hand.

Then she looked again at one of her companions:

"Where are the Wang Clan's troops?"

"I don't know; the scout hasn't returned," said the last, a stout Daoist among them. "But they should be close; I estimate they'll arrive here in a little over an hour."

"Are the preparations finished?" the tall skinny Daoist turned his head, looking at the people bustling in the pit, and asked.

"Honored Immortal Master, it's almost done," a masked man in black armor and black clothing respectfully bowed his hands to the tall skinny Daoist.

"How much longer?" the female Daoist also asked, watching the pit workers' progress and frowning. "Why is it so slow? At this rate, even half an hour more might not be enough."

"Honored… Honored Immortal Master…" faced with the female Daoist's questioning, the black‑clad man replied anxiously, "This corpse pit is strange; the blood poured down hardly clings to the bones, it quickly sinks into the ground."

"Oh?" The tall skinny Daoist, hearing that, instantly became curious. He leapt to the pit's edge, kicked aside the skeletons beneath his feet until the soil below was exposed.

"Ha! It's actually a blood‑cursed ground?" Seeing the dark red soil beneath the bones, the tall skinny Daoist became excited. He then immediately called out to the other black‑clad men still arranging the pit:

"Stop it! Everyone stop! Halt!!!"

The black‑clad men halted one after another, looking at the tall skinny Daoist.

"No need for blood first! Go bring the human sacrifices over!!"

It was already about nine‑thirty on the official road from He Dong Xian to He Xi Xian.

Wang Wu's mounted troop was galloping at a modest speed on the road; they had already covered more than ten kilometers, but the horses beneath them showed no sign of fatigue.

The horses of this world are evidently unusual, for the warhorses from Wang Wu's hometown could not maintain a steady pace over such a long distance while fully clad in heavy armor.

And this isn't even their charge speed; it's merely a normal pace.

"Ugh—!!"

At that moment, a sudden sound of reins being tightened came from ahead, and the mounted troop instantly slowed and gradually halted. Wang Wu, having learned horseback riding these past days, knew how to handle it.

When the troop stopped, as the riders ahead dispersed, Wang Wu also saw the cause of the halt:

A Daoist, an elderly man with white beard and hair, yet vigorous in spirit.

Honestly, describing him as vigorous may be insufficient, because Wang Wu could feel a towering life force emanating from the old man, even surpassing that of teenagers.

"Master, master?"

As the formation dispersed, a shout came from behind Wang Wu. Turning around, he saw a cultivator named Lu looking at the old man ahead with a surprised expression.

"You incompetent fool, why don't you come back with me!"

Wang Wu didn't even see how the old man arrived, as if by teleportation; when the words above rang out, the other was already beside Lu.

He glared at Lu and scolded.

"M-Master... Xiao Lan... she..." Lu, looking at his master, clearly feared him, but out of concern for his beloved's safety, he chose to bravely confront his master...

"Brother Lu, you should go back."

Until Wang Lan's voice sounded.

"B-But Xiao Lan...!" Lu, hearing Wang Lan's words, immediately looked toward the other, his face anxious, and said, "If the situation there is wrong, then later if no one can protect you..."

In an instant, Lu's voice was cut off; although his mouth kept opening and closing, no sound emerged.

The one who silenced Lu was, of course, no one else but the elderly man who stopped the mounted troop.

"Who do you think summoned me?" the old man said to his disciple, shaking his head and sighing, "Ah, you kid, why are you so stubborn?"

As he spoke, the old man waved his sleeve, and Lu was involuntarily flung from his horse, drawn by an invisible force to the old man's side.

"Apologies to Long Zhenren," Wang Lan said, looking at the old man with a remorseful expression.

"No problem," Long Zhenren smiled at Wang Lan, "I actually quite like you, girl, but unfortunately..."

He glanced at his disciple, a faint bitter smile on his face.

"I shall depart now, wishing the young lady a smooth journey," he bowed his hand toward Wang Lan.

"Thank you for the kind words, Master," Wang Lan returned the bow.

Long Zhenren soon left with his disciple, and the troop resumed moving, maintaining the previous pace—neither slow nor fast.

Wang Wu's mounted unit left the city under the pretense of delivering goods, accompanied by a cargo‑laden carriage.

(End of chapter)