But he chose not to speak of them.
These villagers had clearly been subjected to a powerful, evil Soul-Seizing divine ability, their very shenhun forcibly extracted to temper a magic treasure or boost cultivation. Such an ability was cruel and malicious, yet devastatingly effective and boundless in power; similar techniques existed within the Demonic Arts, which is why he recognized the signs instantly.
The reason he wouldn't speak was that judging by the sheer power required to instantly snatch seventy-odd souls, the perpetrator of this soul theft possessed a cultivation level far surpassing their own. He had no desire to invite such trouble.
“It is rather peculiar…”
He shook his head indifferently, signaling his inability to help.
Mo Li sighed with disappointment. As an elite disciple under the Mohist school, his initial reaction had been driven by hot-headed fury. Now, upon closer examination, he too discerned the strangeness of the situation, but having never encountered such a wicked divine ability, he was at a complete loss to identify it.
“Brother Feng, I see no immediate leads here. Perhaps we should first allow these villagers to rest in peace…”
Once Feng Zikang realized the potential danger, his only thought was to leave as soon as possible.
Mo Li, however, interpreted this suggestion as a display of profound benevolence. Grateful, he nodded repeatedly, summoning several log automatons to help dig and fill the earth, burying the villagers one by one.
With so many people, individual gravestones were impossible. Mo Li simply erected a single massive stone at the mass grave site, and with his fingertip moving like a blade, he carved a line of large characters into the rock. By then, the sky had completely darkened, and under the moonlight, stone dust fluttered down, stirring up a faint haze.
It read: “The Mass Grave of Seventy-Four Souls from Longshiyu.”
He kowtowed four times before the stele, swearing an oath: “Esteemed villagers, I, Mo Li, vow to avenge you. If this debt remains unpaid, I shall forfeit my claim to humanity and die struck by heavenly lightning on some future day!”
Feng Zikang was startled. For a cultivator to bow to mere mortals, and to swear such a deadly oath for the sake of mortals—this was an act unimaginable in other sects.
Only the Mohist school’s philosophy of universal love could forge such a disciple.
“Jie jie! To think some brat dares to boast so wildly here! No need to wait for another day; let this grandpa send you to your doom today!”
A strange cackle drifted from an unknown location.
Mo Li leaped forward, his eyes blazing crimson, resembling a maddened tiger, and roared: “Who dares show yourself? Reveal yourself at once!”
Feng Zikang’s face turned ashen. He constantly maintained the projection of his Formless Heavenly Demon Avatar; within a ten-mile radius, he perceived every rustle of grass, yet this voice originated over ten miles away, yet it sounded as if whispered right beside his ear.
The ability of this approaching foe was extraordinary!
“Brother Mo, be cautious!”
He hissed a warning, his iron sword transforming into a streak of dark light as it flew out, while his hand simultaneously snatched the Soul Bone Sword from his storage pouch, readying himself for battle.
Alerted by Feng Zikang, Mo Li, though still seething with anger, forced himself to steady his spirit, summoning a Dark Stone Automaton to shield him.
“Ah, just two petty cultivators. No wonder you are so arrogant. Jie jie, you reject the open road to heaven only to barge headlong into the gate of hell! Give me your lives!”
From the southwest, a torrent of foul miasma surged, and within it emerged a gigantic, fleshy hand, mottled with repulsive sores, stretching almost five zhang long, clawing viciously toward the pair!
Mo Li roared, and two shields of azure light rose, enveloping both him and Feng Zikang. The automaton bellowed, fearless, and charged toward the colossal hand.
BANG!
A direct collision!
The automaton was batted back dozens of zhang, but a large hole was torn in the center of the giant hand, causing foul blood to spray out as it retracted.
The demonic entity concealed within the miasma cried out in pain, roaring with immense fury!
“Insects! I intended to spare your lives, yet you dare wound me? Die!”
Wails and ghastly shrieks arose from the corrupted air. A large banner stretched upward from the haze; painted upon it were hundreds upon hundreds of skull shapes. As the banner unfurled in the wind, a mass of black vapor billowed forth, growing rapidly upon contact with the air, soon becoming a vast, sky-obscuring cloud!
“Juniors, receive my Nine Nethers and Ten Hells Soul-Seizing Grand Technique!”
The demon shrieked madly, and the black cloud surged toward the two cultivators.
Mo Li’s expression grew solemn. He formed a mudra with both hands and chanted an incantation.
“Dyed in azure, it becomes azure; dyed in yellow, it becomes yellow. What enters changes, and its color alters; having been dyed five times, it achieves five colors.”
“Therefore, the act of dyeing must be approached with caution!”
With every syllable he uttered, his aura intensified, and five-colored light rotated between his palms, stemming the tide of the approaching black gas. When he reached the final phrase, “The act of dyeing must be approached with caution!” the black cloud recoiled in horror, actually halted by the sheer force of his presence!
This was the Mohist sect’s Divine Ability of Five Colors Unstained!
His recitation was drawn from the ancient classic Mozi: On Dyeing, conveying that if an object is placed in blue dye, it becomes blue; in yellow dye, it becomes yellow. Different dyes create different colors; five immersions yield five colors. Thus, the process of dyeing demands absolute prudence!
The Mohist divine ability manifested this very principle, transforming it into a formidable defense: the worldly evil arts found it impossible to stain the self, and at its highest level, one could claim immunity from all wickedness and invulnerability to myriad poisons!
Alas, Mo Li’s cultivation was far from that zenith. After only a short while, pain etched his face, sweat beaded on his brow, and he managed a pained, wry smile over his shoulder: “Brother Feng, I have dragged you into this! This fiend is too strong; I cannot hold him. You must leave quickly; I can hold on for a moment longer!”
“Attempting to leave?”
The distant demon roared with laughter, the sound echoing as black miasma began to surge from all directions—the Soul-Seizing Grand Technique operating at its absolute peak.
“It is now the hour of Zi (midnight); only then can my Nine Nethers and Ten Hells Soul-Seizing Grand Technique unleash its full power. You two juniors, submit obediently to your doom!”
When Feng Zikang and Mo Li first met, the sun had already begun to sink. They fought one battle, then rushed to the village to bury the dead; twilight had already faded into darkness. Now, it was truly the dead of night.
The moon hung precisely overhead, casting a cold light upon the ground, with thin wisps of black cloud drifting overhead.
The hour of Zi had arrived—the peak moment for all manner of chilling, dark arts!
The black energy swelled violently, its momentum ferocious. The Dark Stone Automaton, which had been struggling against the corrosive force, began to emit loud cracking sounds, as if resisting immense pressure. With a sudden roar, a burst of fire erupted from its crown, and it shattered violently!
“Hmph!”
Mo Li cried out in agony, staggering backward and spitting a mouthful of blood. The five-colored light emanating from his hands simultaneously dimmed!
The automaton would eventually be resummoned after some time, so its destruction was not inherently critical.
However, the automaton was forged from Mo Li’s own essence; its destruction in battle was equivalent to a severe internal injury to himself. As he was straining to channel the Five Colors Unstained ability, he could not withstand such a blow. He instantly vomited blood and staggered back, and even the protective azure light barrier had visibly weakened significantly.
The black miasma seized the opportunity, surging forward like a tide!
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