Chapter 165: Who Was It
After being ambushed, Mo Shan remained constantly on guard.
He vaguely suspected that among the Qian Family's hired cultivators, there was one skilled in concealment arts who attacked from the shadows. Hence, he became much more cautious with his moves, taking care not to reveal any openings.
At the same time, he observed the battlefield closely, hoping to catch traces of that hidden cultivator.
Although Mo Shan's perception was sharp, his Divine-Sense was not particularly strong, so he could not pierce through the concealment technique.
Just then, he saw a Fireball Technique being cast!
At a single glance, he recognized it as the very Fireball Technique his son Mo Hua used.
The moment the fireball exploded, a short cultivator in black clothes was blown out from a seemingly empty spot.
"Mo Hua's Divine-Sense can sense that stealthy cultivator!"
Mo Shan's spirit lifted. While fighting the Qian Family cultivators, he began paying close attention to the fireballs.
Sure enough, every time a fireball flew by, the hidden cultivator's ambush would be interrupted, revealing his form for a brief instant.
Mo Shan kept observing silently, waiting patiently for that black-robed cultivator to make a mistake.
Moments ago, the black-robed cultivator suddenly lost his mental composure, his spiritual power went chaotic, and his figure was revealed.
Mo Shan seized the opportunity, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and smashed him heavily to the ground.
That cultivator, though adept in stealth and sneak attacks, did not have a strong physique. The impact shattered his bones and made him vomit blood, his heart gripped with terror.
For a cultivator of concealment arts, once discovered, disaster was inevitable, especially on a chaotic battlefield like this.
Enduring the pain, he tried to circulate spiritual power to activate his concealment again.
But at that moment, Yu Chengyi strode forward and delivered a fierce kick to his abdomen.
The cultivator's organs twisted inside him, his body curling up as he was sent flying, landing right in the middle of a group of Demon Hunters.
Those Demon Hunters, long holding in their fury, pounced instantly and hacked away with their blades.
By the time the Qian Family cultivators fought their way to rescue him, the black-robed man's body was covered in cuts, barely clinging to life.
Elder Yu watched with immense satisfaction and laughed heartily.
Without that stealthy cultivator, the Qian Family would now be slowly devoured.
Elder Yu glanced again at Mo Hua, secretly thinking that this child's mastery of the Fireball Technique was already exceptional. Fast, precise, and cunning. Perhaps one day, he truly could become an extraordinary spell cultivator.
For now, Mo Hua was still young, his cultivation shallow and spiritual power weak, so his Fireball Technique was more of a tricky and disruptive tool to break an opponent's rhythm.
Yet when his cultivation grew stronger, the same fireball, striking directly at an enemy's heart or dantian…
Before they even knew where he was, they would already be half-dead.
Just imagining such a scene made Elder Yu feel a chill of admiration.
...
Meanwhile, Qian Zhongxuan was seething with rage.
That Fireball Technique again!
He had just been enjoying the spectacle, watching his stealth cultivator toy with the Demon Hunters and imagining Elder Yu Changlin fuming helplessly.
But in a blink, the fuming and helpless one became himself!
Qian Zhongxuan's gaze turned icy as he released his Divine-Sense to find out who was casting that Fireball Technique.
Just as his Divine-Sense was about to reach Mo Hua, Elder Yu appeared, stepping in front of the boy.
Qian Zhongxuan felt his Divine-Sense blocked, and when he looked closer, it was that old face of Yu Changlin again!
Elder Yu looked back at him with a faint, mocking smile. Qian Zhongxuan immediately felt a bad premonition and barked, "Retreat!"
He was already very practiced at shouting that word.
Seeing that Qian Zhongxuan had withdrawn and ceased probing with Divine-Sense, Elder Yu scooped Mo Hua up and leapt back into the mine tunnel.
"From now on, you must be more cautious," Elder Yu instructed. "Never take unnecessary risks. If you can avoid acting, then avoid it."
He feared that if Mo Hua acted again and was noticed by the Qian Family, that narrow-minded old Qian Zhongxuan might shamelessly target the child.
"Mm-hmm." Mo Hua nodded seriously. "If I must make a move, then I'll have take his life!"
The harsh words sounded almost comical coming from such a tender voice.
Elder Yu chuckled. "Who taught you that?"
"My father did!"
Elder Yu nodded approvingly. "He's right. The cultivation world is perilous. Either you don't act, or if you do, never hold back. Your father taught you well."
Since his father was praised, Mo Hua's little head nodded even more proudly.
The black-robed cultivator was crippled, Qian Zhongxuan had ordered another retreat, and the Qian Family once again slunk away. During the retreat, they were harried by the Demon Hunters, losing even more men.
At this point, Qian Zhongxuan was completely defeated, his funds spent, his forces broken, and the spiritual mine lost beyond hope.
He could no longer lift his head within the clan.
Qian Zhongxuan was consumed with fury.
He hated Yu Changlin, he hated the negligence of the hired cultivators, and he hated the incompetence of his own men.
Yet what tormented him most was not knowing who was helping the Demon Hunters with their formations, or who was secretly casting those spells.
What kind of formation master would stoop to aid those penniless hunters?
And what kind of cultivator would use such a weak yet annoyingly precise Fireball Technique?
Without those formations and fireballs, he would have taken the mine long ago.
Unable to comprehend it, Qian Zhongxuan vented his anger on Qian Zhuang, scolding him harshly.
If that fool had done his job properly, none of this would have happened!
He had once planned with the clan head to claim the mine and earn an extra tenth of the spirit stones. Now, even double that share would not cover his losses.
The more he thought, the angrier he became.
Qian Zhuang timidly asked, "Elder, what should we do next?"
He was only trying to distract Qian Zhongxuan from further rage.
Before the elder could reply, pitiful cries came from outside the camp.
They were from the wounded Qian Family cultivators and hired mercenaries.
Qian Zhongxuan sighed, waved his sleeve, and said helplessly, "Treat the wounded first."
Outside, the open ground was full of injured men, groaning in agony.
Among them was the black-robed cultivator.
The Qian Family alchemists fed him pills, applied herbs, and slowly purged residual foreign spiritual power from his body, trimming away his singed hair in the process.
Gradually, his injuries stabilized, and after a long while, he finally regained consciousness.
The pain left his mind blank, until the memory of the day's events returned in a rush.
He recalled flashes of faces, those who slammed him down, those who kicked him, those who hacked at him.
And most of all, the one who had used the Fireball Technique.
A wave of hatred welled up in his heart.
He had survived in the Second-Grade Black Mountain Prefecture for over a hundred years without ever suffering a loss, and now he had been ambushed by a Fireball Technique, one so feeble it should have belonged to a Mid-Stage Qi-Refining cultivator!
Ambushed by Fireball Technique!
A century-old cultivator, ambushed by Fireball Technique!
It was the ultimate humiliation.
Rage burned in him, but confusion soon followed.
How had he been discovered? How had his concealment been broken? Who had cast those fireballs so accurately, every single time?
No matter how he tried to reason it out, his mind was blank with frustration. Blood surged up his throat, and he spat it toward the sky, roaring furiously,
"Who the hell used that Fireball Technique?!"
Then, overcome by fury and pain, his wounds burst open again, his vision went dark, and he fainted once more.
(End of Chapter)