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"Monsters! There are monsters!"

"Senior Brother, save us!"

The disciples and grand-disciples of the White Bone Divine Lord, who had just been showing off their lineage, were suddenly attacked by a massive skeletal mechanical beast. Long Que charged forward gleefully, slashing and killing. One swipe cleaved a man into six pieces, blood spurting vividly—it was utterly satisfying. It couldn't help but let out a long roar toward the sky, venting over a thousand years of pent-up frustration.

Feng Zikang stood arrogantly amidst the clouds, his feet treading on sword light.

His gaze flickered; his pupils were still crimson. Looking down at the ants below, his heart felt neither joy nor sorrow, as indifferent as water.

The realm of the Demonic Heart was like the "Volcanic Heavenly Lake"—today, he had a rough taste of it.

Fierce killing intent boiled like magma, yet his emotion was like a still, placid lake, clear as a mirror, untouched by dust.

It was like the autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves—there was no hatred or lingering attachment, merely the inevitability of life and death.

Those fiends were consumed by panic, crying out mournfully as they fled and hid, wishing the ground would split open so they could burrow inside. They had forgotten how ferocious they had been when slaughtering mortals; back then, they were laughing heartily, but now that the slaughter was turned upon them, the laughter would not come.

Long Que was energetic and tireless. The disciples of the White Bone Divine Lord attempted to fight back, but alas, the Mechanical Beast was formed from dragon bones and was immune to the soul-plucking attacks of the Nine Netherworld Ten Dark Soul Deprivation technique. The strength of these fiends was instantly reduced by ninety percent, leaving them nothing more than ants to be butchered.

In less than three quarters of an hour, the disciples of the Divine Lord in the Right Nine Peaks were completely annihilated. The few survivors huddled in narrow, dark places, trembling uncontrollably. Feng Zikang used his Formless Heavenly Demon Incarnation to sense the world and knew exactly where they were hiding. Just as he was about to wipe them out, a thought struck him, and he clapped his hand, recalling Long Que.

Someone was coming!

Feng Zikang turned his head to look east. He saw a tiny speck of light appear on the horizon, slowly growing larger, transforming into multicolored cloud radiance, drawing nearer and nearer!

"As expected, a Foundation Establishment expert!"

Feng Zikang sneered coldly. In this desolate corner of the world, the sudden arrival of a Foundation Establishment master, descending through the clouds without external aid—there was no need to guess: it must be a senior from the Mo School, summoned by Mo Li.

"They arrived already?" Feng Zikang felt a slight disappointment. Since a Foundation Establishment expert had arrived, the great slaughter below naturally had to be handed over to him.

Feng Zikang had advanced his Dao methods through today's killing spree, and he had actually wished to fight the rumored Foundation Establishment Old Fiend, the White Bone Divine Lord, perhaps to gain some insight. But since someone else had arrived, it wasn't appropriate to hog all the glory.

Especially concerning the Mechanical Beast and the Four Symbols Divine Demon Array, his two killing trump cards—he didn't wish to reveal them publicly.

"Is that the young friend Feng Zikang of the Military School ahead? Please halt your killing spree for now!"

Still a hundred zhang away, a voice called out from within the five-colored clouds. Feng Zikang’s face darkened, and he looked up.

His eyesight was excellent; he could see clearly. Within the five-colored clouds was a handsome man, clad in hemp clothing and straw sandals, with a five-colored silk sash tied around his waist. His expression held a hint of arrogance.

This was indeed the attire of the Mo School, just as he had predicted.

But why would someone from the Mo School stop him from exterminating demons?

Feng Zikang was puzzled but showed nothing. He cupped his hands in a polite gesture, "I am indeed Feng Zikang, a disciple of the Small Bamboo Forest of Dragon Tiger Mountain. May I ask which senior from the Mo School has arrived?"

He had heard from Mo Li and Mo Fenghuang that no one in the third generation of the Mo School had yet successfully reached Foundation Establishment. Yet this person, though only in the early Foundation Establishment stage, had already condensed a Dao foundation; he didn't look like a novice Foundation Establishment cultivator. He must be one of the younger members of the second generation of Mo School disciples!

Speaking of the Military School, they also had many junior martial uncles at this Foundation Establishment cultivation level, but they usually trained in the secret realms of Dragon Tiger Mountain, so Feng Zikang had never met them.

"Oh, a disciple of Ye Tiansheng from the Small Bamboo Forest? No wonder you possess such chivalry, unlike the ordinary Military School disciples. I am Mo Bai from the Mo School of Linzi; I happen to know your Master!"

Indeed, the name Ye Tiansheng of the Small Bamboo Forest carried some renown in the cultivation world. This Mo Bai did know him, but the tone he used was not the sincere praise Feng Zikang usually received. Instead, it held a slight note of sourness. Feng Zikang sensed something was amiss and took heed inwardly.

The five-colored clouds sped closer like wind and lightning, reaching Feng Zikang in moments. Mo Bai flew slightly higher than him, a gesture indicating seniority.

When Feng Zikang looked up, he saw Mo Bai had narrow, sharp eyebrows and a cold, severe appearance, unlike the generally amiable demeanor of typical Mo School members.

"Greetings, Martial Uncle Mo!"

Among the Nine Schools, they shared bonds of kinship. The relationship between the Military and Mo Schools was decent. Though generally, affiliations were maintained independently of seniority, being humble and addressing someone as Martial Uncle cost nothing.

Feng Zikang was typically the epitome of humility. He acted low-key, fully understanding the principle of not exposing oneself before possessing sufficient strength. Calling someone an elder cost him nothing.

Seeing his respectful posture, Mo Bai showed clear approval on his face and readily accepted the bow. However, his tone softened somewhat when he spoke again.

"Heh heh, Martial Nephew Feng is truly formidable. I pursued you from the first nine peaks of the Thirty-Six Consecutive Ranges of Mangcang Mountain all the way here, seeing only a sea of blood. Your methods are comparable to the feat of your Military School's Martial Saint, Wen Jiu Zhan Hua Xiong!" This was the kind of encouraging remark an elder makes to a junior, not dwelling on specific battle merits. For a disciple of the Four Tribulations, this was indeed a grand achievement, and calling him comparable to a Martial Saint was high praise.

"Martial Nephew, you slew your way through the Thirty-Six Consecutive Ranges of Mangcang Mountain in anger for Ah Li. You truly are a heroic figure among the youth!"

Regardless of whether Feng Zikang admitted it, in the eyes of others, his actions were ultimately driven by the death of his good friend Mo Li, leading him to rage against Mangcang Mountain to avenge her. While some might see this as foolish, to the members of the Mo School, it was certainly another heroic deed.

"However,"

Mo Bai paused for a long moment before speaking, "However, the matter of Mangcang Mountain has many lingering issues. I rushed here specifically to ask Martial Nephew Feng to cease meddling and return to Dragon Tiger Mountain as soon as possible! I will handle the affairs here!"

"What?"

Hearing this, even Feng Zikang was taken aback.

Mo Bai had traveled thousands of miles, met Mo Fenghuang at the first nine peaks of the Thirty-Six Consecutive Ranges of Mangcang Mountain, heard the news of Feng Zikang slaughtering Mangcang Mountain, and rushed over—even foregoing bringing his niece—only to tell Feng Zikang this one thing?

"The demons of Mangcang Mountain refine their techniques using the souls of living people, which is a heinous crime. Brother Mo Li was enraged and tried to stop them. How could—"

Mo Bai's eyes sharpened. By nature, he was proud. He felt that condescending to speak kindly with this junior was already a courtesy. He hadn't expected Feng Zikang to still have questions, and his expression shifted.

Moreover, the underlying reason for this matter was indeed awkward to discuss.

The hunting of living souls by the demons of Mangcang Mountain in the southwest was actually tacitly permitted by the righteous cultivation sects across the Three Teachings and Nine Schools.

Of course, major sects like the Family School and Military School, who fundamentally did not care about the lives of mortals, were completely indifferent to the situation. If they saw it, they would deal with it; if they didn't see it, they pretended it never happened. This attitude was also acceptable.

Those most concerned with the life and death of mortals were primarily the Buddhist, Confucian, and Mo Schools.

The Five Sects of Buddhism intended to convert the demons of Mangcang Mountain, but they also believed that everything has its karma; those mortals slaughtered were suffering the results of causes planted in their previous lives. As long as a few with the right affinity could embrace the Three Jewels and leave with them, that would suffice.

Certainly, there were compassionate great monks who wished to emulate the Buddha’s act of feeding his body to the tigers, using their own cultivated souls to exchange for the survival of some mortals to facilitate the conversion of the demons. However, they were ultimately a minority, and whether they succeeded or failed, they caused little stir.

The Confucian School had always not regarded the 'barbarians' as human. Since they refused to submit to the Central Kingdom's rule, being eaten by demons was deemed appropriate. They only required that the demons of Mangcang Mountain never step one foot into the Central Plains or harm the common people there; otherwise, they would be annihilated with thunderous force. The demons of Mangcang Mountain were shrewd enough; they would rather travel far to the southern barbarians of Yiluo than dare to cross into the Central Plains.

The Mo School experienced the most intense internal debate, centered on the concept of Great Selflessness, where the opinions of the sect elders differed significantly.

Demons eating people and absorbing human souls were, naturally, unforgivable capital crimes. Stopping demons and protecting villagers was what any Mo School disciple was bound to do upon sight.

If the matter had ended there, the Mo School would have dispatched experts to subdue all the demons of Mangcang Mountain, and that would have been the end of it.

However, the White Bone Divine Lord happened to have a formidable Master.

It wasn't that the Mo School feared this Soul Transformation stage expert, the Netherworld Sage. The Mo School's benevolent path knew no fear; let alone the Soul Transformation stage, they would face the Great Luo Golden Immortal without flinching.

But if they killed the demons of Mangcang Mountain and saved the populace, thereby angering the Netherworld Sage, causing him to emerge from the Unreturning Sea's Nether Prison Island to stir up trouble and seek revenge in the Central Plains, what then?

Even though the Central Plains had their own Soul Transformation experts capable of holding him off, this confrontation would lead to a massive catastrophe across the Divine Land, resulting in even more deaths.

Originally intending to save mortals, the outcome would be harming many more—how could this align with the original intent of the Mo School's Great Love?

Consequently, arguments raged until the opinion favoring saving the greater number prevailed. Regarding the tragedies in the southwest, as long as the scale of the disaster was controlled and the brutality not excessive, they would turn a blind eye.

Who knew that this hothead Mo Li would stumble into this situation? Unaware of the full context, he risked his life and inadvertently drew Mo Fenghuang and Feng Zikang to Mangcang Mountain, triggering this ordeal where Feng Zikang bloodied the entire mountain.

Mo Bai was considered a rising star of the sect. The Mo School specifically sent him this time in the hope that he could handle the situation appropriately. He already had a plan: at worst, he would slay a few demons to make a statement, perhaps giving Mo Li some solace and intimidating the White Bone Divine Lord into restraining his disciples from indiscriminately collecting living souls. This would secure immeasurable merit.

Who could have predicted that Feng Zikang had already carried out the act of establishing might through slaughter, and he had done it so thoroughly, completely disrupting Mo Bai’s careful calculations?

Thus, although Mo Bai praised him outwardly, he harbored considerable resentment inwardly.

At this point, the only solution was to make Feng Zikang leave quickly so he could clean up the mess. But doing so meant Feng Zikang would receive all the fame while Mo Bai would have to take the blame, which was infuriating.

And Feng Zikang was still dissatisfied? How could that not anger him?

"Martial Nephew Feng, you may inquire about the origins of this matter with your elders at the sect. I shall say no more!"

Mo Bai’s face hardened, adopting the tone of an elder instructing a junior.