Chapter Five: If I Die, I’ll Take You Down With Me

"Quickly summon him to the main hall, I will be there at once!" Mo Liang was wild with joy.

The powder in the shadow box was nearly depleted. If there were no new cultivators, he would truly have to bring out some of his most treasured possessions to nurture new talent. He had never expected that Lu Qian, usually so silent and unremarkable, would deliver him such a delightful surprise.

"Lu Qian, oh Lu Qian, as a token of gratitude, I shall see to the proper burial of your remains," Mo Liang thought to himself.

Lu Qian had once been a lonely orphan at the foot of the mountain, his life as cheap as grass. Now, to die in service of the immortal path was, in a way, a fortune earned over three lifetimes.

Mo Liang opened the lead box, dabbed a little powder on his face, and fastened a fragrant sachet at his waist, taking on the air of a Daoist sage surrounded by an exotic aroma.

Entering the main hall, he saw Lu Qian sitting upright, with a wooden box beside him.

“Your humble servant greets Master Mo!”

Upon Mo Liang’s arrival, Lu Qian rose and bowed deeply. His eyes gleamed with an intense light—Mo Liang immediately recognized this as the mark of someone who had just awakened their senses and had little control over their vital energy.

Mo Liang helped Lu Qian to his feet, smiling benevolently. “Rise, truly a promising young man!”

“Master, this afternoon I stumbled upon a wild fruit. Strangely enough, it was a single fruit on a single branch, fiery red in color. After eating it, I suddenly felt a surge of energy within me.”

“Could it be the legendary Vermillion Fruit?” Mo Liang was filled with a mix of envy and resentment—resentment that Lu Qian had not brought the fruit to him but had eaten it himself. Outwardly, however, he remained composed and indifferent.

After all, Lu Qian was just a commoner from the wilds—how could he recognize such a treasure? Still, this was just as well. No need to waste resources fattening him up. Soon, he would simply kill the boy and take his blood; most of the fruit’s potency would be his.

“I also discovered a cave, which seemed to have been inhabited before. There were various bottles and jars inside. I dared not touch them, so I brought them for you, Master.”

“What!” Mo Liang, overcome with excitement, yanked out several strands of his beard.

Another treasure, and a cave as well. Could it be that this boy was so lucky as to stumble upon a legendary encounter?

“Very good, let me see.” Mo Liang hurried over to the wooden box, heart pounding.

It was only after discovering such fortuitous resources years ago that he had achieved his current success. To chance upon another immortal opportunity today—could this be a sign that he was about to break through to the next realm?

The heavens surely were not stingy with him!

Mo Liang slowly opened the box—inside, staring up at him, was a lifelike human head, eyes wide open.

Because it had been preserved in lime, there was no scent of blood. The moment he recognized the face, Mo Liang froze, his expression of excitement solidifying.

His throat went dry, and he croaked, “Ling…Ling’er!”

Confronted with the unexpected, Mo Liang was stunned.

“Die, old dog!” Lu Qian sneered coldly. With a twist of his wrist, a three-foot sword appeared.

A flash of sword light dazzled the eyes.

Splurt!

The Azurewater Sword pierced Mo Liang’s abdomen, passing clean through, the blade unsullied by blood.

To his credit, Mo Liang, a hardened veteran of the martial world, managed to avoid a fatal strike by instinct alone in that critical moment.

“Wretch, how dare you!” Mo Liang’s hair and beard bristled, his eyes bloodshot. He swept his sleeve, sending out an invisible force that flung Lu Qian across the hall, smashing several chairs.

“What is there to fear? Spirit Guardian—attack!”

Lu Qian formed a seal with his fingers.

Boom!

A figure clad in golden armor burst through the door, splinters flying, wielding a crescent blade aimed directly at Mo Liang’s head.

“A paper figure?”

Mo Liang snorted, pulled the sword from his abdomen, and tossed it aside. With his discerning eye, he saw through the deception at once, recognizing the true nature of the golden-armored guardian as a paper construct.

Bang!

With a surge of vital energy, Mo Liang dodged the blade, which instead split a redwood table in two.

“How interesting. The art of folded paper—truly, you’ve had some remarkable fortune,” Mo Liang sneered. “Once I have you in my grip, I’ll steam you alive in a bamboo basket.”

Thunder crashed outside, rain pouring in sheets.

Mo Liang reached into his robes and produced two talismans, white paper with black runes.

With a rustling sound, two skull-sized orbs of ghostly green fire flew forth, bathing the room in an eerie glow reminiscent of the underworld.

Snap!

The golden-armored guardian darted in front of the ghostfire, slicing it in two with its blade. The flames shot past Lu Qian, landing on the floor and eating a gaping hole into the stone, the guardian’s weapon destroyed by the searing heat.

“Guardian, hold him off!”

Face like still water, Lu Qian directed the paper figure into battle with Mo Liang.

Despite his grievous wound, blood streaming from his abdomen and staining the floor, Mo Liang fought with the might to tear tigers and leopards apart.

The hall was a ruin, strewn with shattered wood and stone. The guardian was battered and weaponless, its fighting strength greatly diminished.

“Die!”

The green ghostfire landed on the guardian, reducing it to a heap of green ash.

Lu Qian was forced back into a corner, wall behind him, Mo Liang blocking the only exit.

“Why don’t you run? Kneel and beg for mercy now and you might yet live. I doubt you have any more paper figures left,” Mo Liang said, clutching his abdomen with one hand and a white talisman with the other, staggering toward Lu Qian.

At the last assessment, Lu Qian had shown no sign of vital energy; at most, a month had passed.

His energy reserves must be meager—he’d already reached his limit just now. Thinking this, Mo Liang couldn’t help but admire the youth’s cunning. Using Mo Ling’er’s head to unnerve him, striking at the perfect moment, he had nearly succeeded.

“Is that so?” Lu Qian’s expression was perfectly calm as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Crash!

Another white figure soared in through the rain.

A glint of cold steel flashed; Mo Liang, unable to dodge in time, felt a deep gash open on his weathered face, powder washing away to reveal age spots beneath.

The figure landed—a short, strange person in black waterproof hat and nightclothes, belt bristling with flying daggers.

Rain dripped from the hat, each drop loud in the silent night.

Another paper figure.

As it steadied itself, the figure flicked out several seven-star darts.

“You little wretch, so many tricks up your sleeve.”

Enraged, Mo Liang retreated. The darts stuck in the wall, then fell away as paper, leaving small pits behind.

The conical-hatted paper figure attacked relentlessly, keeping Mo Liang at bay.

A paper figure’s form was limited only by the creator’s imagination and energy. Lu Qian had even considered making a Gatling gun paper figure, but it had only worked as a large iron club—perhaps the laws of this world were not suited to such things.

A tea’s time passed.

Mo Liang suddenly snorted, his body stiffening as five or six darts embedded in his chest. He collapsed, black blood streaming from mouth and nose.

“You…”

“Castor bean poison. Just a pinch is enough to kill a strong bull,” Lu Qian explained with a smile.

He had coated the Azurewater Sword with castor bean extract—a common but deadly herb—beforehand. That Mo Liang had lasted so long was a testament to his strength.

“Despicable cur!” Mo Liang cursed, vomiting blood.

“And you? How many have died by your hand?”

“Guardian, finish him!”

As he spoke, Lu Qian retreated toward the door. Even with Mo Liang near death, he dared not approach carelessly. Only when he was certain the old fox was dead would he draw near.

Seeing Lu Qian about to escape, Mo Liang’s spirit flared. He cursed, “You little beast, even in death I’ll take you with me!”

He snatched a yellow talisman, spat blood onto it. The runes glowed, leaping like living creatures, and flew into his mouth.

His body swelled, face flushed red, and with a stomp that shattered the floor, he hurled himself at Lu Qian with the force of a cannonball.