Chapter 359

The shopkeeper's raised foot froze midair, his entire body stiffening as if turned to ice, rooted in place, unable to move.

His face drained of all color, pale as paper, cold sweat pouring down his forehead, eyes filled with utter terror—he wanted to cry but dared not make a sound, wanted to run but could not stir a step, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Don't be nervous."

Chen Mu retracted that thread of qi, his tone still calm, as if nothing had just happened, "I'm merely passing through and need some information. Tell me what you know, and when you're done, I'll leave—no harm will come to you."

He paused, then added, "If the information you provide is useful, this ingot of silver is your reward."

Saying this, he gently placed a ten-tael ingot of snow-white silver on the table.

The shopkeeper stared at the ingot, still gleaming with alluring luster in the dim light, and felt again the suffocating pressure from moments ago—his Adam's apple bobbed several times.

Trembling, he sat back down, clasping his hands tightly together, knuckles white, voice lowered to a whisper, trembling uncontrollably.

"This… this my lord… I… I don't know much…"

Running a tavern meant frequent contact with all kinds of people; everyday, wandering cultivators, merchants, and porters inevitably talked of their experiences over drinks.

Though the shopkeeper was merely an ordinary man, through constant exposure, he did know a few rumors—but only fragments, hearsay, vague and incomplete.

"I… I heard it from a few wandering cultivators who fled into the city while drinking… they said… said the demonic force causing chaos around here… seems… seems to be called 'Mo Yan Men'…"

"Mo Yan Men?" Chen Mu's eyes narrowed slightly.

The name rang a bell—he recalled it as a demonic sect entrenched in the north, ruthless in conduct, its cultivation methods leaning toward fire, ranked among the top tier of demonic factions, though previously restrained.

The shopkeeper continued in a low voice, "Inside the city… we haven't seen these demons yet… but… but many villages and fortresses outside have been destroyed!"

"The nearest ones—'Yuquan Villa' and 'Han Family Fortress'—I heard… I heard they were wiped out the night before last! Not a single survivor left! The corpses… the corpses are still lying exposed, no one dares to collect them…"

As he spoke, the shopkeeper's voice grew fainter, his face suffused with terror.

"Which direction is Han Family Fortress? How far is it?" Chen Mu pressed.

"It's… it's north of the city… past the north gate, follow the main road about ten li, then turn west onto a side path—not far, you'll see it…" The shopkeeper hastily pointed.

"Thanks." Chen Mu nodded, asking no more.

He pushed the silver ingot toward the shopkeeper and began eating his meal in silence.

The shopkeeper felt as if granted divine mercy—he snatched the silver and scrambled back behind the counter, daring not to glance this way again.

Chen Mu ate quickly, settled the bill, and rose to leave the tavern.

He did not linger in Wulong Fucheng; following the direction the shopkeeper indicated, he headed straight out the north gate and shot northward along the main road.

Ten li was but a moment's journey for him.

Turning onto the western side path, he had not gone far when a thick, nauseating stench of blood drifted on the wind.

Ahead, the outline of a large estate built against the mountains appeared in view—it was Han Family Fortress.

The once-proud gate, now wide open, bore shattered lanterns with the character "Han" hanging above.

Even before approaching, he could see corpses sprawled haphazardly across the courtyard, steps, and corridors.

Men, women, children, elders—all dead, their deaths gruesome, blood long dried into dark brown stains, mottling the ground.

Countless flies swarmed over the bodies, buzzing irritably.

【Bodies detected. Collect?】

"Yes!"

…

Cards were collected.

Chen Mu walked slowly into the estate, checking each card.

Internal Strength Card, Physical Strength Card, Stamina Card, Internal Qi Card, True Qi Card, Power Card…

Only when he examined the card obtained from the corpse of Han Family Fortress's master—a middle-aged man in brocade robes, head severed, lying on the main hall's steps—did he pause slightly.

Memory Card!

Chen Mu activated the card.

The next instant, he "saw" a group of warriors clad in uniform black training attire, their chests and sleeves embroidered with blazing flame patterns, like demons of the night, suddenly storming into Han Family Fortress.

Their cultivation was generally strong; their leader, a formidable figure with an aura at least at Earth Altar Realm.

They slaughtered anyone they encountered, merciless and brutal.

The Han Family Fortress master—a cultivator at the peak of Innate Realm—roared and charged, but was shattered by the Mo Yan Men Earth Altar expert's palm, his protective qi barrier obliterated, his chest crushed, then instantly decapitated by another's blade.

The fortress's guards, descendants, servants—all offered little organized resistance before being butchered like cattle.

The entire assault was swift, precise, and clearly aimed at total annihilation.

After reviewing this memory steeped in blood and despair, Chen Mu frowned.

"Mo Yan Men launched this attack without warning, with such brutality…"

Chen Mu pondered, "The Wudamo Sects are all launching wars simultaneously—there must be a shared reason or goal behind it. Are they fighting over some resource? Or is there a deeper conspiracy?"

As he brooded—

"Yah!" "Yah!"

A rapid clatter of hooves drew near, shattering the silence of Han Family Fortress.

Chen Mu's form shifted, silently leaping onto the fortress wall's watchtower, looking down.

A group of over ten riders, dusty and weary, galloped from the main road outside, charging straight through the open gate.

They wore uniform training attire, predominantly gold and red, strikingly visible; each bore a broad, heavy golden-backed great saber on their back, their auras sharp, most at the Innate Realm.

Upon entering the fortress, they were stunned by the carnage—many gasped, faces twisted with anger and grief.

Then they spotted Chen Mu standing atop the wall, gazing down at them.

The leader, a man around thirty, his face rugged, aura steady, at Ninth Stage Innate, reined in his horse and raised a hand to halt his men.

His gaze sharpened as he studied Chen Mu on the wall—demeanor imposing, alone amid this sea of corpses—his mind immediately wary.

He immediately bowed his fists and called out loudly.

"May I ask, sir on the wall, your esteemed name? I am Zhang Sheng of the Golden Knife Pavilion; these are my fellow sect brothers and sisters. We heard of the disaster at Han Family Fortress and were sent specifically to lend support."

"Golden Knife Pavilion?"

Chen Mu pondered, but had no memory of it.

"Nie Feng."

He gave a false name offhand, his voice flat: "You're too late. The entire Han family is already dead."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Sheng's face darkened. His gaze swept over the corpses littering the ground, his fists clenching involuntarily as he gritted his teeth.

"Yes... we came too late... We set out day and night the moment we received the plea for aid, yet still..."

"You should be glad you came late."

Chen Mu's tone remained unchanged as he added, "If you'd arrived two days earlier, the bodies lying here now would include your Golden Knife Pavilion members too!"