Chapter Eight: Instant Kill

“Sister… look…” Lin Mengyao and her two companions, Senior Brother and Senior Sister, descended from the sky on flying swords, landing at the entrance of Du Gu Village. Lin Mengyao pointed to the devastated scene before them, unable to hide her distress.

From a young age, Lin Mengyao had never been able to harm even a blade of grass or a flower, let alone face a field strewn with corpses. She covered her mouth with her hand, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Are we too late?” a man's voice said.

This man was Lin Mengyao’s Senior Brother, named Wu Junhua. His high, straight nose, thin lips, and sword-like eyebrows swept into his temples amidst a few strands of black hair. His handsome profile and flawless features were striking.

“This wretched Hexagonal Demon Spider, truly wicked beyond compare,” Wu Junhua said angrily.

The Hexagonal Demon Spider was the culprit that had turned Du Gu Village into hell on earth. It was a two-star, low-level demon beast, equivalent to the early stage of a High Immortal.

Its hardened body could only be pierced by earth-grade magical treasures, and its sharp fangs rivaled the power of near-heavenly treasures. Originally, Wu Junhua and his companions had set out to find materials for forging a suitable magical treasure for Lin Mengyao.

Along the way, they discovered traces of the Hexagonal Demon Spider and followed it here. Although the spider was slightly stronger than they were, they had brought many treasures for this journey, and with their Senior Sister having already reached the High Immortal realm, they could barely hope to subdue the beast.

“Go check whether the spider’s fangs are still intact. That’s our objective. The rest is not our concern,” a cold female voice commanded. The voice was devoid of any emotion, like a chilling wind from the underworld, sending shivers down the spine.

Upon hearing this, Junhua quickly replied in a low voice, as if fearful of the speaker.

A figure stood nearby, completely shrouded in black gauze. The long, tubular robe cloaked her body, and from the garment, her figure appeared unattractive—a slightly protruding belly formed a semicircle in the center of her robe. She had neither bust nor hips, and even her face was hidden behind black gauze. Only her eyes, brows, and forehead could be seen, suggesting she was so ugly that it was unbearable to look directly at her, hence the need to conceal her features.

Only her long hair was somewhat pleasant, but the rest was unremarkable—good hair alone counted for little. If not for her feminine voice, it would be impossible to tell whether she was male or female. Her appearance was enough to make one feel nauseated.

This person was named Lin Xiwen—a name pleasant enough, yet how could someone with such a name look like this? It was incomprehensible. She was the only one among them who had stepped into the High Immortal realm.

Lin Mengyao was only at the mid-stage of the Ascendant realm, and Wu Junhua at the high stage. In the Divine Hidden Pavilion, Lin Xiwen often used Wu Junhua as her sparring partner—the results were predictably one-sided, with Wu Junhua suffering greatly. That was why he feared her.

“Sister, look! The Hexagonal Demon Spider is already dead—and it seems to have exploded from within. How could this happen? Only its two fangs remain, the rest is scattered fragments,” Wu Junhua exclaimed, as if he had discovered a great secret.

Lin Xiwen and Lin Mengyao both walked over. Lin Mengyao, wide-eyed with disbelief, said, “How can this be?”

Lin Xiwen said nothing, but her widened eyes betrayed her surprise.

Lin Mengyao looked at the scattered remains of the Hexagonal Demon Spider. “How is this possible? Although its fangs are the hardest and sharpest part, its shell is also impenetrable, comparable to an earth-grade magical treasure. If Sister hadn’t brought the ‘Azure Edge Violet Sword,’ which is also earth-grade, we wouldn’t have dared to target such a ferocious beast. But—” Lin Mengyao spoke in disbelief.

“Exactly. Look at these fragments—it would take someone at the high stage of the High Immortal realm to shatter it from within like this,” Wu Junhua said, placing the spider’s fangs into a storage pouch and rising to his feet, certain of his assessment.

“Well, since the Hexagonal Demon Spider is dead, we’ve been spared some trouble. It must have been slain by some powerful predecessor who saw its evil deeds and intervened,” Lin Xiwen ordered coldly. “Now that we have its fangs, let’s return quickly. The outside world is fraught with danger; the longer we stay, the greater the risk.”

“But—” Lin Mengyao looked back at the ruined Du Gu Village, reluctant to leave so abruptly.

Lin Xiwen withdrew a gourd from her back—an item known as the Yin-Yang Purple Gold Vessel. It could unleash heavenly fire and pour out weak water, able to incinerate all things and flood vast lands—a rare high-level earth-grade magical treasure.

The party slowly walked toward the outskirts of the village, preparing to burn Du Gu Village to the ground.

Just then, Du Gu Ling’s “corpse” suddenly moved, grabbing Wu Junhua’s ankle as he was about to leave, before falling unconscious again.

“Ghost! It’s a revenant!” Wu Junhua cried out, nearly scared out of his wits by the sudden movement.

Lin Xiwen frowned, knelt down, and felt Du Gu Ling’s nostrils. “He’s not a ghost—this person isn’t dead. Feed him a Blood Revitalizing Pill.” Then Lin Xiwen muttered a spell, and a small black cloud drifted over, pouring rain that washed the blood from Du Gu Ling’s body.

As Du Gu Ling’s handsome, wicked face was revealed, Lin Mengyao suddenly gasped, covering her mouth.

Wu Junhua and Lin Xiwen turned, “What is it—do you know him?” Lin Xiwen asked.

Lin Mengyao, recalling their chance meeting in the mountains, felt awkward and hurriedly replied, “No, I don’t. Not at all.” After a pause, she added, “I just think it’s amazing that he survived such blood loss—his vitality is truly remarkable.”

Her words aroused no suspicion; they could never have guessed that just a few hours earlier, Lin Mengyao had been seen naked by this man. Lin Mengyao was right—under ordinary circumstances, such blood loss would be fatal, but Du Gu Ling had survived, his vitality indeed extraordinary.

“You carry him. We’re heading to Cold Moon City now,” Lin Xiwen said quietly. She then turned and opened the Yin-Yang Purple Gold Vessel; a blaze of heavenly fire erupted from the gourd, setting Du Gu Village ablaze in a fierce, enduring conflagration.

The group mounted their flying swords and soared northwest. Du Gu Ling lay quietly on Wu Junhua’s back, his white hair billowing in the wind.