Chapter 104

“Cough… cough…”

Han Luo coughed violently, spraying blood mixed with fragments of bone. The sight was gut-wrenching.

“You… who… are you? Why… did you come to the Eastern Domain…” he asked in a weak, trembling voice, as if clinging to his last breath. Mo Jiu's combat style was brutal and unrelenting, honed by countless battles. Han Luo couldn’t keep up—he was completely outmatched.

“I am Mo Jiu, the ninth son of the Demon Emperor and the future ruler of the Eastern Domain,” the demon replied coldly. His fingers tightened, bones in Han Luo’s neck cracked audibly under the pressure—enough to make one’s skin crawl.

“Relax. I won’t let you die so easily. I’ll torment you with a thousand different methods. You’ll learn what it truly means to regret ever stepping into this world.”

With a mad grin, Mo Jiu grabbed Han Luo’s arm and yanked hard.

RIP—!

Blood sprayed like a fountain as Han Luo’s arm was torn clean off, spattering Mo Jiu’s face with gore—making him look even more like a true demon.

“You… how did you enter the Eastern Domain? We have… the World Wall…” Han Luo’s voice was faint as a whisper, but Mo Jiu’s keen hearing caught every word.

“You’re not worthy of the answer.”

Without hesitation, Mo Jiu reached down, seized one of Han Luo’s legs, and tore it off as well. Blood splashed across the ground, satisfying the seething fury in Mo Jiu’s chest.

“You’ve pleased me today,” Mo Jiu said with twisted joy. “So I’ll give you a gift.”

He raised his hand, and in his palm appeared a flickering True Demon Flame.

“This flame will burn your soul. Every sin you’ve ever committed, every drop of blood on your hands, every lie you’ve ever told—will return to torment you. You’ll feel each of them, one by one, until you beg for death.”

Mo Jiu cast the flame.

“AAAAHHHH!”

Han Luo screamed in agony. His face contorted beyond recognition, his entire body writhing and warping from the soul-searing pain.

“HAHAHAHA!”

The more Han Luo screamed, the more ecstatic Mo Jiu became. Watching his enemy suffer was like a drug—he was intoxicated by it, laughing madly, utterly deranged.

The screaming continued for several breaths. Mo Jiu finally pulled back, realizing he couldn’t play any longer. He needed to finish the real task at hand.

“Useless body.”

He clenched Han Luo’s neck—BOOM!—and Han Luo’s body exploded like a balloon, spraying blood across the land. All that remained in Mo Jiu’s hand was a glowing crimson talisman.

The talisman disintegrated into dust before his eyes.

“Damn it. I still didn’t get the information on how he entered the Eastern Domain. A complete failure.”

Then—a voice rang out behind him.

“You say something?”

Mo Jiu’s mind blanked for a second. He turned around slowly.

Han Luo stood there, holding his little notebook, calmly jotting down notes.

“You… what did you say?!”

Mo Jiu sensed something was wrong. Terribly wrong. But he couldn’t figure out exactly what—his thoughts stumbled like stones in a raging river.

Han Luo didn’t respond. He kept scribbling, ignoring the furious demon.

After a moment, he closed the notebook, looked up, and said, “Mo Jiu, thanks for helping me test the durability of my Substitute Talisman. Also, did you really think I’d fight you head-on?”

He tilted his head, staring at Mo Jiu like he was an idiot.

“DIE!!”

Mo Jiu erupted in fury, hurling a full-powered punch.

But Han Luo stood there, unflinching, not even blinking.

BANG!

The punch stopped a mere ten centimeters away from Han Luo’s face. A transparent wall had materialized, blocking the attack completely.

“Impossible!”

Mo Jiu stared in disbelief. Han Luo had actually blocked his strike?

“In a world where even immortals exist, what’s impossible? You should understand that better than anyone,” Han Luo said calmly.

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!!”

Mo Jiu roared and pummeled the invisible wall with both fists. Blow after blow thundered against the barrier, but it wouldn’t budge.

He could sense it now—it wasn’t a simple wall. It was the manifested prison realm of the treasure—the Bronze Mirror. Unless he could destroy a postnatal-grade treasure with brute force, he’d be trapped here forever.

Even in his awakened True Demon Form, he couldn’t make a dent.

“You think you can trap me?” Mo Jiu snarled. He raised his hand and shouted, “Sword, to me!”

One second… nothing happened.

Three seconds… still nothing.

The silence was deafening.

“You mean this sword?” Han Luo raised his hand. A black demonic sword flew into his palm.

“WHAT?! Why is the sword answering to you?!”

Mo Jiu was dumbfounded.

What’s going on? Who’s the real demon here? I’m supposed to be the one controlling the magic sword!

“You want to know why it ignored your summon?” Han Luo asked with a smirk. “Because… it was never corrupted.”

With a flick of his wrist, the black sword dissolved into mist and vanished.

“No! I saw it with my own eyes! The Ancient Demon Blood corrupted the Xian Sword!” Pang Hu shouted in disbelief.

“All fake,” Han Luo said casually. “Everything was staged. The array was set long ago—just waiting for the two of you to walk into the trap.”

Shou Hou narrowed his eyes. “So that was all an act… Damn, his performance was even better than mine.”

“At least you’re not completely hopeless,” Han Luo chuckled, waving his hand.

The illusion shattered. They were still in the Xian Peak, yes—but at a safe distance from the sword.

“Got them,” a voice echoed.

Yun Yangzi stepped forward with a smile, as if he’d been there the whole time.

Han Luo wasn’t surprised. A Nascent Soul cultivator had all sorts of unimaginable techniques.

“Yes,” Han Luo nodded. “They’re caught.”

“Where’s the Ancient Demon Blood? You’re too weak to handle it—give it to me, or it might affect your mind.”

Yun Yangzi sounded gentle and concerned. Han Luo hesitated briefly, then pulled out a brocade box from his Bronze Ring.

“It’s in here, Master. Please keep it safe.”

Yun Yangzi took the box—and in that instant, BOOM!

It exploded violently. The blast could’ve severely injured a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

It was one of Han Luo’s 72 hidden trump cards. But the explosion didn’t even spread. A white light in Yun Yangzi’s hand absorbed it completely—like striking a match that instantly fizzled out.

Han Luo scoffed.

“So that’s it. I was wondering why a mid-Foundation demon like Mo Jiu dared sneak into Luoxian Sect and hatch such a grand plan. Of course—it’s because he has someone powerful backing him.”

From the moment he saw Pang Hu and Shou Hou, Han Luo suspected something was off. A plan this grand couldn’t be left to two clueless thugs.

He’d prepared for this all along—just waiting for the real mastermind to show.

“Han Luo, calling your elder a liar… isn’t that a little inappropriate?” Yun Yangzi said with a crooked smile.

“Only if you actually are my elder,” Han Luo replied flatly.

As he spoke, Yun Yangzi’s body shifted—revealing a completely unfamiliar old man.

“A clever child like you… can’t be allowed to live.”

The old man struck without warning. Han Luo tried to dodge, but before he could react—he blacked out and dissolved into dust.

It was another Substitute Talisman.

“Hmph.” The old man snorted. He extended his divine sense, trying to scan the entire Luoxian Sect.

As long as he could find the Ancient Demon Blood, he could taint the Xian Sword and force it into submission.

“Changshou, you old bastard—how dare you!”

A thunderous voice rang out. Yun Yangzi had truly arrived and stood calmly before him.

Changshou flinched and ceased his actions.

“Of course not,” he said with a fake smile. “I heard Luoxian Sect was holding its Grand Assembly, and as a neighbor, I thought I’d stop by and pay my respects.”

Changshou, the Sect Master of Changshou Sect, was infamous for his ruthlessness, cunning, and total lack of scruples.

“Hmph! Since you’re here, then don’t leave. Allow me to give you a proper welcome.”

Yun Yangzi’s tone turned icy.

“Fine. It’s been a while since I stretched my limbs. Let’s play.”

White and green lights flashed—the two vanished into the sky.

Back on Luoxian Mountain, under a phoenix tree, Han Luo slowly opened his eyes.

Losing two Substitute Talismans in one day stung badly. They were extremely hard to craft, and he only had four total—each infused with his own blood essence. Losing even one would make him ache for months.

Still, despite the cost, his mind was on Yun Yangzi.

Please don’t let anything happen to him… If the sect’s only Nascent Soul cultivator fell, Luoxian Sect would suffer immensely.

With a flick of his hand, he summoned another talisman.

It took on his form—a decoy.

The real Han Luo hid himself within the Mirror Realm’s prison domain. After all, Changshou was the type to come back for a surprise kill.

Better to be safe than sorry.

His decoy, meanwhile, headed to the Luoxian Assembly to bring back Xian’er—before anything else went wrong.