Chapter 61: Fool, Are You Still Not Helping?

Above the valley, at the point where the two mountains crossed, a dark shadow suddenly dropped down.

Behind the shadow followed two more figures.

One held a sword, the other a knife; they encircled the shadow from left and right, descending from above, finally crashing to the ground.

The first to come into view was a white-haired old man with disheveled hair.

He wore animal hides, stained with dirt as if long neglected; in his left hand he gripped a small knife, in his right a ball of white thread, his eyes blazing red as he glared furiously at the crowd, looking plainly disheveled.

The two who descended with the old man were Yang Ning and Li Hu, who had been absent until now; both wore grim expressions and bore wounds.

“Father… you…”

The first to speak among the valley crowd was Luo Ming.

But his tone was filled with disbelief.

For the old man falling from above the valley was his father, Luo Feng.

Yet the moment he called out “Father,” he understood—his disbelief instantly turned to anger and sorrow.

“Ah… I killed so many to create this masterpiece, and you dare destroy it, you dare destroy it—I’ll kill you, kill you all!”

The old man turned to the crowd, speaking sharply, his voice thick with venom; clearly, the group that had destroyed the giant wooden puppet had enraged him beyond measure.

“Luo Leader, this wooden puppet demon isn’t ordinary—we two together might not defeat it. You five must help!”

Yang Ning spoke too, and the gravity in his tone made Luo Ming’s heart tremble slightly.

Since first encountering Yang Ning over half a month ago, this was the first time he’d heard such seriousness.

Xia Hong, who had been observing the three, looked up at the valley’s peak and saw the crossing point of the two mountains was a full one or two thousand meters above ground—he instantly understood.

He had assumed Yang Ning and Li Hu had either left or hidden in ambush, waiting to strike as opportunists after the others slew the wooden puppet.

Now it seemed he’d wrongly accused them.

While they fought the puppet below, the two must have been battling it atop the mountain—no one could have sensed the commotion from two thousand meters up.

Thinking of this, Xia Hong’s gaze grew grim.

It meant the wooden puppet demon had simultaneously controlled this massive puppet below to fight the valley crowd, while also engaging Yang and Li.

Judging from the wounds on Yang and Li, the puppet demon hadn’t been at a disadvantage.

And Yang Ning had openly asked for help from five Foundation Establishment cultivators.

The puppet demon’s strength must far exceed imagination!

“Xia Leader, is the solid-fire oil truly gone?”

Xia Hong turned to meet Luo Ming’s hopeful gaze and shook his head grimly: “Gone. I only have two blocks left.”

At this, Luo Ming’s face darkened—he could see the puppet demon’s strength from Yang and Li’s wounds, just as Xia Hong had.

Solid-fire oil was the perfect weapon against demonic entities; without it, they were in dire trouble today!

“Enough talk—attack now! This wooden puppet demon hasn’t reached mid-level yet. All seven of us together will kill it!”

Li Hu, standing beside Yang Ning, could no longer hold back; this time he didn’t act as arrogantly as before—he’d fought the puppet demon atop the mountain and knew he and Yang Ning alone couldn’t defeat it, so he included Luo Ming’s four and Xia Hong in the “seven.”

He roared, raised his goose-feather knife, and charged straight at the puppet demon.

Though Li Hu was boastful, his strength was undeniable.

He moved with blinding speed, reaching the puppet demon’s left side in an instant, slashing horizontally toward its head; the force of his strike sent gales roaring through the air—any other man would have died instantly.

But he faced the wooden puppet demon.

Seeing his attack, the puppet demon didn’t dodge—only flicked its right hand slightly.

Countless translucent white threads shot out, spreading rapidly along its left side, weaving into a sheer white net within moments.

Clang…

This thin net, woven from nothing but white threads so fine it seemed one could pierce it with a finger, blocked Li Hu’s thunderous strike.

But it didn’t stop there—the net dissolved, splitting into countless thread ends that instantly pointed outward like razor-sharp needles, lashing toward Li Hu.

Shhh… shhh… shhh… shhh…

Thousands of fine needles flew forth; it was night, and the valley air was warmer than outside—the white threads moved so fast they left silver streaks in the air, like a downpour of pear blossoms, sealing every inch of space around Li Hu.

He couldn’t dodge!

Li Hu, daring to strike first, had his reasons.

“Luo Leader, don’t stand there—act now!”

Yang Ning, who had remained motionless on the right, shouted to Luo Ming, then charged forward with his sword.

As Yang Ning moved, the puppet demon’s expression grew noticeably grim.

Its fingers twitched—over half the white threads aimed at Li Hu reversed course and shot toward Yang Ning on the right.

Chit-chit-chit…

The very white threads that had blocked Li Hu’s goose-feather knife now snapped clean under Yang Ning’s blade, spraying sparks.

Xia Hong’s expression froze—he immediately focused on Yang Ning’s silver longsword.

“That sword’s material must be the same as the solid-fire oil you gave me, Xia Leader—let’s join in too. With these two, defeating the puppet demon should be no problem!”

Luo Ming noticed Xia Hong’s gaze, explained quickly, then raised his knife and rushed forward, bringing his three followers and joining Yang and Li in surrounding the puppet demon.

Only then did Xia Hong realize why Luo Ming hadn’t been surprised when first seeing the solid-fire oil—it was because of Yang Ning’s sword.

But soon Xia Hong shook his head inwardly.

The sword might be of the same material, but its suppression of demonic entities was nowhere near as potent as his solid-fire oil.

Yang Ning’s silver blade could indeed sever the white threads, but the sparks it produced—Xia Hong clearly felt—were entirely different from the flames ignited by solid-fire oil upon contact with a demon.

Xia Hong pushed the thoughts aside, gripped his great knife, and prepared to advance.

“Fool, still standing there? Help now! If we don’t kill this puppet demon, we all die!”

The sudden curse made Xia Hong’s brow tighten.

His motion to advance halted instantly.

Xia Hong looked up at Li Hu, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

He knew Li Hu had seen him preparing to move.

The man had done it on purpose.

Clearly, the incident at Redwood Ridge still rankled him—he was deliberately seeking to humiliate him.

Luo Ming had heard Li Hu’s shout too; inwardly cursing “fool,” he seized a moment to turn to Xia Hong and called out firmly:

“Xia Leader, this isn’t the time for pride or grudges—joining forces to kill the puppet demon is what matters!”

Xia Hong clenched his great knife, suppressed his anger slightly, and still charged forward.

It wasn’t that he could endure it—he simply knew Luo Ming was right.

Killing the puppet demon was the only thing that mattered.

(End of Chapter)