Chapter 103

"Why bother summoning the master? We’ve got ancient demon blood. We could just corrupt the Xian Sword ourselves, take it, form our own sect, and live the high life!" Pang Hu’s eyes glowed blood-red as his body emanated thick black mist—he looked entirely possessed.

"I think that plan could work," Shou Hou added, equally frenzied. His bulging, bloodshot eyes gleamed with madness, and ominous demonic energy coiled off him. "If I can get the sword to recognize me, not even the master can stop me! This is one of the strongest innate treasures in the entire cultivation world—it once killed a cultivator in the Grand Ascension Stage!"

Watching them so easily fall under the sword’s influence, Han Luo was speechless. Seriously? Mo Jiu sent these two clowns to carry out such a critical mission?

With no other choice, he quickly pulled out two Clarity Talismans and slapped them onto the two men. Instantly, the talismans took effect, clearing their minds.

The two snapped out of their trance and shivered in fright. Had they really reached for the sword just now? If they had touched it, they’d likely have been consumed, turned into nourishment for the sword.

"Thank you, little brother!" Pang Hu clapped a meaty hand on Han Luo’s shoulder, grinning. "I promise—when big bro eats meat, you’ll never be left drinking soup!"

"I'm honored, Brother Tiger. From now on, I’ll serve loyally at your side." Han Luo kept up his bootlicking with flawless execution. He’d heard their earlier conversation outside and knew exactly how to play his part.

"Brother Tiger, should we summon the master now?" he asked earnestly.

"Not yet," Shou Hou said, narrowing his eyes and eyeing Han Luo with suspicion.

"Why not?" Han Luo put on a look of confusion.

"The master said we have to first taint the Xian Sword with the ancient demon blood before summoning him. He’s worried that if he appears too early, his demonic aura will alert the old fogies in Luoxian Sect," Pang Hu explained patiently.

"Ah, so that’s how it is..." Han Luo nodded, feigning realization. "Then what do you need me to do, Brother Tiger?"

"You? Just stand there and watch. Let your big bro show you how it's done."

Pang Hu and Shou Hou exchanged a glance, then took out colorful stones from their storage rings and began arranging a formation.

An ancient teleportation array.

Han Luo recognized it immediately—he’d seen something similar when the demons first infiltrated the sect. He had wanted to learn the formation back then, but he’d only caught a glimpse of it and never had the chance to study it up close. Now, thanks to this perfect opportunity, he memorized every step.

Soon, the array was complete.

Before activating it, Shou Hou produced a delicate brocade box. When he opened it, a wave of ancient, oppressive energy swept through the air. Inside was a single drop of Ancient Demon Blood, thick and black like molten tar, shimmering with eerie brilliance.

Han Luo’s colorless spiritual energy reacted immediately, trembling inside his body. It recognized the demon blood as a threat.

Indeed, ancient demon blood was rare and terrifying. While it was a powerful tonic for demons—used in alchemy, weapon forging, and more—for cultivators, it was a curse. Anyone contaminated by it risked turning into a half-human, half-demonic monster, either to be slain or devoured by the blood itself.

"Let’s begin," Shou Hou said, activating a specialized tool to direct the demon blood toward the Xian Sword.

Upon contact, the sword trembled violently, clearly resisting. But the ancient demon blood was far too corrosive. Despite being an innate spiritual treasure, the sword couldn’t hold back the corruption.

In just a few breaths, the sword’s radiant, holy glow dulled and then turned pitch black. Demonic energy wafted off the now-corrupted weapon—it had become a Demonic Sword.

"We did it!" Pang Hu beamed with joy. He hadn’t expected the plan to work so smoothly.

"Save the chatter. Summon the master quickly—we don't want to get caught." Shou Hou urged him toward the array.

The two of them stood before the formation, chanted obscure, guttural incantations, and activated the array. Han Luo couldn’t understand the ancient language, but he recorded the sounds for later study.

The array hummed, activated, and slowly, a tall, handsome figure materialized from within. His blood-red eyes glowed menacingly. He looked every bit the classic villain—only missing the words “Final Boss” stamped across his forehead.

Mo Jiu had arrived.

"Master!" Pang Hu and Shou Hou dropped to their knees in reverence.

But Mo Jiu didn’t even glance at them—his crimson gaze locked directly onto Han Luo.

"You... who are you?"

His deep, magnetic voice rang out, each syllable heavy with pressure. The entire atmosphere froze in an instant.

Pang Hu stammered, sensing something was wrong. "Master! Isn't that Little Fan, the one you sent to assist us?"

Then Mo Jiu's eyes widened in recognition. "It's you..."

"Die!"

He roared. Fate truly had a twisted sense of humor—he had long dreamed of finding and killing this man. Without hesitation, he lunged, his hand morphing into a demonic claw.

Han Luo was ready. He sidestepped the attack and slipped into the mist of one of his pre-laid arrays.

Mid-Foundation Establishment Stage. Just one exchange and Han Luo had gauged Mo Jiu’s strength.

"You’re not getting away." Mo Jiu's eyes gleamed, firing twin beams of blood-red light that locked onto Han Luo’s position. His arm extended unnaturally and reached toward the mist.

"He can see through my illusion array?" Han Luo was stunned but quickly shifted his location again.

Yet the demon claw still followed him.

"Too strong!"

Even with all the agility his formations afforded him, he was barely evading the relentless attacks.

"You must die today!" Mo Jiu’s killing intent erupted.

Even if the mission failed, he would personally end Han Luo. This man had nearly destroyed his soul years ago. If not for that battle with the old Nascent Soul cultivator, he would be even stronger now.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" Mo Jiu bellowed, summoning a second claw that also lashed out at Han Luo.

"Mid-Foundation stage truly is terrifying. I’m being forced to use my spiritual energy," Han Luo muttered, a thin aura forming around him. His speed instantly doubled, and without using any protective arts or techniques, he evaded the full-force assault.

"True Demon Form!"

Mo Jiu howled and activated his transformation.

Horns burst from his forehead. Wings unfurled from his back. A massive, three-meter-long demonic tail lashed behind him. With a boom, the air exploded from the sheer force of his motion.

He vanished—then reappeared right in front of Han Luo.

Before Han Luo could react, Mo Jiu's fist struck.

Boom!

Han Luo crossed his arms instinctively to block, but with a crack, both forearms and his sternum shattered. His body flew like a cannonball and smashed into the ground, embedding into the cracked floor.

Before he could rise, another boom echoed. Mo Jiu appeared above him, his burning demonic fist crashing down again.

BOOM!

A sea of fire exploded on impact.

Han Luo coughed blood violently. He hadn’t been able to dodge the furious blow and now lay weak, his body unresponsive.

Mo Jiu descended, gripping him by the throat and lifting him into the air.

"Do you know what I’ve been through these past few years?" Mo Jiu’s body trembled. His blood-red eyes flickered with unshed tears.

Yes—tears.

A demon, shedding tears over a cultivator. He had allowed Han Luo to become his heart demon.

Night after night, Mo Jiu had nightmares of this man’s face. That paranoid, overly cautious expression haunted him endlessly.

And now, he finally had him.

"Let’s see how I’ll make you pay!"