Chapter 329: The Fearful My Lord Magaeye

"Cough… cough cough…"

On the other side, He Xiaoming leaned on his blade, barely standing, blood continuously seeping from the corner of his mouth, his breath weak and ragged.

He stared fixedly at Chen Mu, who held the Sunken Dragon Sword and wore a cold, stern expression, his voice low and hoarse: "My lord Chen… since when did you suspect us?"

Chen Mu regarded him calmly, offering no direct answer, instead curling his lips into a faint, ambiguous smile.

"You're buying time, aren't you?"

Swish!

He Xiaoming's pupils shrank sharply, a flicker of panic crossing his face as he was exposed.

Nearby, Xie Manfeng, also badly wounded, jerked violently, his eyes involuntarily darting toward the night sky behind the manor's right rear corner, tinged with hidden hope.

"Hmm?"

Almost the instant Chen Mu finished speaking, Ding Tianpeng and Zhao Fukang simultaneously tensed, spinning around with eyes like lightning, locking onto the deep night beyond the manor's right rear.

"They're here!"

Ding Tianpeng's tone was calm, tinged with understanding.

Zhao Fukang snorted, his aura intensifying further, ready to strike at any moment.

Hope blazed instantly in He Xiaoming and Xie Manfeng's eyes.

"It's my lord Magaeye! My lord Magaeye's aura!"

Xie Manfeng roared in excitement, his face twisted with ecstatic triumph and venomous hatred as he struggled to point at Chen Mu and the others, his voice ragged:

"You're all going to die! My lord Magaeye has come himself—no one can escape…"

The threat died mid-sentence, as if an invisible hand had clamped shut his throat.

The expression of ecstatic triumph and venomous hatred froze on his face, replaced by utter shock and disbelief.

For in the night sky, the two powerful figures that had been hurtling toward the manor at terrifying speed—so close now their silhouettes were barely visible—

Suddenly made a near-ninety-degree sharp turn!

Without hesitation, without pause, even their aura instantly dimmed by more than half, like startled rabbits, they abruptly changed direction and fled toward the distant night sky opposite the manor, faster than they had come.

Their posture suggested not reinforcement, but outright flight.

In the blink of an eye, the two figures shrank into blurred dots and vanished into the endless night, leaving only two fading trails of disturbed air.

Silence blanketed the manor ruins.

The night wind blew, carrying the stench of blood and char.

He Xiaoming and Xie Manfeng stood frozen, mouths agape, their hope utterly shattered, replaced by boundless confusion.

Ran?

The "My lord Magaeye," whom they had revered as a god and pinned all their hopes on, hadn't even shown his face—merely sensed the aura inside the manor, then turned and fled?

…

"Swoosh!"

"Swoosh!"

In the air, Ding Tianpeng and Zhao Fukang reacted instantly; the moment the two figures turned to flee, they became twin brilliant streaks of light, like meteors slicing through the night, chasing after them at even greater speed!

In the blink of an eye, they vanished beyond the horizon, leaving only the lingering hum of furious air friction.

Chen Mu did not follow.

His mission was clear: remain here and guard Tang Ji, He Xiaoming, and Xie Manfeng—now trapped like fish in a barrel—preventing them from causing chaos or taking their own lives.

He also guarded against any other possible ambushes.

Below, in the ruins, He Xiaoming and Xie Manfeng stood like lifeless statues, their eyes hollow, staring at the direction where "My lord Magaeye" had fled.

Only Tang Ji, after his initial stunned silence, suddenly burst into a laugh worse than weeping—louder, wilder, filled with endless sorrow and bitter self-mockery.

"Ha… hahaha! My lord Magaeye? What a pile of shit! Absolute garbage!!"

He laughed while coughing blood, his voice shrill as a night owl, drifting over the silent ruins.

"When you need them, they promise the heavens—but when disaster strikes… they run faster than anyone else! Hahaha…"

"…."

Chen Mu watched coldly, observing Tang Ji's hysterical state without a flicker of emotion.

If they had known this would come, why did they choose it in the first place?

When they betrayed the imperial court, allied with the "Beast God," and treated countless civilians as fuel for hatching monstrous beasts, they should have foreseen this end.

The so-called backing is nothing but a joke in the face of absolute power and a true crisis.

Not long after, the sound of wind tearing through the night returned from afar.

Swoosh!

Swoosh!

Ding Tianpeng and Zhao Fukang returned, their figures floating gently back onto the manor ruins, their breath steady, their robes neat—as if they had merely taken a stroll.

"They got away."

Ding Tianpeng, noticing Chen Mu's gaze, spoke casually, his tone calm—as if this outcome were unsurprising.

"Magaeye Nan Wuyi. Old adversary."

Zhao Fukang snorted, adding, voice laced with disdain: "This guy's strength is no joke—especially his mental illusions and escape arts. Among the Earth Altar Realm, he's top-tier."

"But he has one fatal flaw—he's terrified of death. More afraid than anyone else. If he senses danger exceeds expectations, or if his chance of success is less than fifty percent, he bolts faster than an eel."

Chen Mu nodded silently.

Fear of death depends on who you're facing.

If Chen Mu had come alone tonight, even with his strength, facing Magaeye Nan Wuyi and his allies—whose true power might be hidden—he might have struggled, perhaps even needed to use the Star Talisman to retreat into the Star Palace.

But with Ding Tianpeng and Zhao Fukang—two judges stronger than Magaeye, and familiar to him—on the scene, Nan Wuyi didn't even dare to test it. He fled the moment he sensed them. It was only logical.

……

About two hundred li from the manor, at the bottom of a narrow mountain ravine between two steep peaks — dark, damp, and untouched by sunlight all year round.

The figures of Nan Wuya and the square-faced middle-aged man flickered into view like two ghosts, then held their breath and stilled their spirits, drawing their own auras in to the extreme, nearly merging with the surrounding rocks and moss.

Neither of them moved. Only Nan Wuya's pupils, faintly glinting with an eerie purple light in the darkness, swept warily over the surroundings, while his invisible spiritual sense spread outward like quicksilver, blanketing a radius of several li.

After a full quarter-hour had passed and he confirmed no tracking aura was drawing near, Nan Wuya slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his taut body relaxing just slightly.

"They're gone."

His voice was low, carrying a trace of lingering dread.

The square-faced middle-aged man beside him also let out a breath of relief, but the fright had not yet left his face. He could not help lowering his voice to ask,

"My lord, who exactly were those two above the estate just now? How could they make even you, my lord…"

He did not finish, but his meaning was plain — what kind of people could make the notoriously fierce "Demon Eye" my lord not even dare to face them, and simply turn tail and run?