Chapter 778: Mirrored Thunder Shatters the Dark Plot, Poisoned Juice Floods the Throat to Repay Blood Vengeance

In the silent dark corner beside the central deep well of the refugee camp, the three spies had just forced a crack open in the Qingshi well cover, the bundle of lethal Baidou Fen still clenched in mid‑air, not yet scattered.

A sound like a cold, soul‑freezing sneer from the Avici hell suddenly cracked in this less‑than‑ten‑step narrow space, startling the spy leader Wu Duo, whose hair stood on end and whose poisonous vial at his fingertip nearly slipped from his hand.

Gao Jiong wore the jet‑black, night‑blended brocade, looking like a blood‑thirsty Asura stepping out from the Jiuyou Huangquan.

His hands were tucked into the wide sleeves, his cold, hard official boots crushing a few dry leaves as he calmly stepped forward from behind the dilapidated Mopan that could never hide a person.

The instant he appeared, the previously empty camp tents and the dark gullies on both sides of the well seemed to be under some terrible sorcery.

Accompanied by the flutter of robes and the orderly clatter of weapons, hundreds of Mingjing Embroidered Attire Envoys clad in Iron Armor, armed to the teeth and wearing E Gui Mianju, descended like divine weapons from the earth.

They expertly formed an airtight iron‑bucket death formation; the Jinggang Changdao in their hands glimmered with blood‑thirst under the starlight, hemming in the few Qi State Haoxi that intended to poison the water.

Gao Jiong's right hand, protruding from his sleeve, was as steady as a rock, gripping a specially forged steel hand crossbow from the Xiuzhou Junqi Fang, its bolts coated with Jianfeng Xuehou Judu that glowed with a Youlan Guimang.

The arrow tip, flashing with a deathly cold light, now locked precisely on the exact center of Wu Duo's distorted brow, and even the slightest attempt at suicide would be instantly shot through his skull.

Gao Jiong tilted his head slightly, gazing at the trembling Qi State death‑soldier leader with a contemptuous stare as if looking at the lowest, filthiest Fuchou Wenchong in a ditch.

His Yinxie Keba voice cut through the cold wind like a steel knife Pogu Tiaorou, ruthlessly piercing the opponent's laughable disguise that he thought flawless.

"You Qi State idiots, you really think the Mingjing Sect is blind, don't you?"

Gao Jiong leisurely pushed the crossbow forward half an inch, the pressure making Wu Duo dare not even breathe heavily.

"Those truly starving refugees who have been wandering for three months, unable to gnaw even bark or Guanyin soil, their hands already withered to nothing—how could they possibly have, like you, thick old calluses on the web of the palm and the inner side of the index finger that only constant, forceful sword‑gripping can create?"

He snorted coldly, slamming the iron proof that exposed the truth onto the opponent's face like a slap.

"The position and thickness of such calluses are the iron evidence unique to your Qi army veterans who favor chopping long swords, and with such a clumsy trick that even a Xiaosan Sui You couldn't be fooled by, you still dare to stage a poisoning scheme on our Xiuzhou grounds."

Wu Duo, hearing this, realized today was a Chibang Nanti Dead End Trap, and the outlaw's ruthlessness made him abandon any argument.

"Since you Zhou State hound has seen through it, I have nothing more to say; if you have the guts, kill me directly—our Shadow Department brothers on Huangquan Lu are never short of companions."

He roared, his wrist snapping, attempting to fling the pack of potent Baidou Fen into his own mouth, trying to end his life by this extreme poison ingestion to avoid falling into the hands of this terrifying intelligence agency for torture.

But Gao Jiong would never give him such an easy chance to die.

Gao Jiong didn't even bother to blink; his index finger on the crossbow trigger coldly snapped off instantly.

With a "pfft" sound of a blade biting into flesh, the poisoned armor‑piercing bolt shot like lightning, precisely piercing the thigh bone of Wu Duo's leg as he tried to raise the poison.

The massive penetrating force from the powerful crossbow threw Wu Duo's body backward, pinning his thigh hard onto the cold, hard Qingshi slab beside the well.

"In the hands of the Mingjing Sect, death is always the most lavish reward."

At the same time, hundreds of zhang away at the Xiuzhou Liangcang, where a fire point was about to ignite, a Jiaokebiao Jibie Leiting Fan Shengtou Jiaosha Zhan was erupting in sync.

Hongye, like a stunning yet emotionless cruel female death god, wore a tight night‑cloaked garment and led dozens of the Mingjing Sect's core Andi, leaping from the high wooden Muzhi Dingbu of the granary like a swift swallow.

In midair she drew two silver‑glinting short blades, descending with unstoppable momentum like a tiger charging a flock of Sheep, crashing straight into the formation of Qi State spies preparing to ignite the Fire Striker.

These Embroidered Attire Envoys coordinated their killing with terrifying synergy, abandoning all flashy moves; every strike was a direct, fatal technique.

The two formed a pair, like a Liebao Push.

One sprang from the side‑rear like a Guimo, his massive arm like iron tongs, sealing the Qi State spy's mouth that tried to scream, forcing the desperate cry back into his throat.

The other partner faced him, gripping a razor‑sharp Tebi Bishou, and without hesitation sliced horizontally across the opponent's neck with precision.

The sharp blade instantly cut through the Qi State spy's fragile trachea and pulsing arterial vessels.

The warm, scarlet blood gushed like an uncontrolled fountain in the darkness, staining the granary's white walls a shocking dark red.

These self‑proclaimed mighty Qi State death soldiers, in this cold‑blooded throat‑cutting battle as precise as high‑level surgery, could not even utter a half‑mournful cry in the quiet night, collapsing helplessly like boneless soft creatures into the pool of blood.

The Leiting Fan Shengtou Jiaosha was executed so cleanly that within a few breaths it completely shattered the long‑planned, earth‑shaking fire‑attack conspiracy of Qi State that could have shaken Xiuzhou's foundation, and it didn't even rouse any ordinary Liuren sleeping sweetly in the nearby camp tents dozens of zhang away.

The Andi who carried Fire Striker and poison, just as they tried to turn and flee, were mostly riddled by hidden high‑position arrows, becoming Rousheng Ciwai.

The remaining spies who tried to bite through the poison sacs in their teeth to kill themselves were brutally pressed by the Embroidered Attire Envoys, like wolves and tigers, into the cold, muddy Mudi.

The Envoys cruelly clamped their jawbones, and with a few crisp dislocation sounds forced the spies' jaws off.

Then, with rough fingers, they violently probed into the mouths spilling saliva and blood, ripping out the deadly poison sacs and tossing them onto the nearby Xuedi.

Gao Jiong walked steadily forward, reaching the Wu Duo nailed to the ground.

He disgustedly pressed his clean boot tip onto Wu Duo's gushing wound, crushing twice, causing the latter to emit a fierce, hoarse howl that could not close his lips.

Gao Jiong bent down, rummaged the mud‑caked belly of Wu Duo, extracted all the large unopened packs of lethal Baidou Fen, and weighed them in his hand.

A blood‑thirsty fury, only shown when tormenting prey, surged in his eyes, and his low words sounded like Yama's verdict of death.

"You intend to use such filthy poison to destroy the Population Foundation of our pillar nation, leaving Xiuzhou littered with corpses."

Gao Jiong sneered, tossing the packs of powder to the assistant beside him.

"Tonight I shall bestow great mercy, indulging your penchant for poison‑against‑poison, letting you truly taste the marvelous flavor of the unparalleled masterpiece you yourself brewed."

The next morning, deep within the Xiuzhou Dalao, buried dozens of zhang underground, never seeing daylight and pervaded by a strong scent of blood.

In a cold cell used to imprison the most severe criminals, terrifying wails far beyond any human's capacity, shrill to the extreme, echoed, capable of piercing the heavy stone walls.

The dozens of Qi State spies, jaw‑removed and bound with massive iron chains to the rack, were now undergoing a terrifying ordeal akin to a human Rensheng Jianyu.

Gao Jiong sat on a Grand Master's Chair upholstered with tiger skin, holding a steaming cup of tea.

He stared expressionlessly at the Embroidered Attire Envoys ahead, using a huge wooden bucket filled with a disgusting, days‑fermented, Huanglu Whistling Arrow, foul‑smelling sludge from a Fenkeng, mixed with all the over‑dose Baidou Fen seized last night.

Several burly jailers brutally forced the spies' mouths open, inserting a rough bamboo tube deep into their throats.

Then the jailers scooped the Baidou Fen‑laden foul sludge with a large iron ladle, unrelentingly pouring it through the bamboo tube, as if irrigating a dried field, force‑feeding it into the Qi State death soldiers' stomachs.

"Since you Qi State folk love poisoning, enjoy it here in this prison until your intestines burst, you dehydrate into a Ganshi; anyone who dares to die early, I will strip his Gutou and feed the wild dogs outside Xiazhou City."