Gulp.
In the ruins on the wasteland, Mo Fan swallowed hard with considerable difficulty.
He stared at Wu Mang's face—which had achieved a level of misery that made a bitter melon look cheerful—and clung to his last shred of hope.
"Eldest Senior Brother... when you say Peak Master... you mean Elder Lin Dong?"
Wu Mang nodded. Slowly. Heavily. Like a man confirming a death sentence.
I'm screwed.
Mo Fan's head rang like a struck bell.
He hadn't forgotten! The last time he'd been cornered by that old lunatic at the summit, he'd fabricated an entire "favored son of heaven" persona for himself just to escape.
If tomorrow that old man recognized him—
"Ouch..."
Mo Fan rolled his eyes, his decision made in an instant.
Both hands flew to his stomach, his facial features contorting into an expression of spectacular agony, and he took the opportunity to squat toward the ground.
"Eldest Senior Brother, I suddenly feel an unbearable pain in my abdomen—it might be internal damage from Huang Yun's sword-qi earlier."
"Tomorrow's assembly... could I possibly take sick leave and skip it?"
Wu Mang—a man who had never been afraid of anything in heaven or earth—wore a bitter face at this moment...
Shaking his head in complete and utter despair.
"Can't do it, Junior Brother."
"The Elder specifically emphasized in the voice transmission just now—not a single fly is permitted to be absent from Hundred Forging Peak tomorrow. Everyone reports on time."
He paused.
His massive burly frame gave an involuntary shudder.
"Honestly... not gonna lie to you... Senior Brother's calves are also feeling severely weak right now."
Beside them, Zhao Ziwei and Li Banxia looked equally ashen. The roasted meat in front of them had lost all appeal.
Mo Fan looked at his gloomy Senior Brothers and Sister, then turned to look at A-Song sitting beside him.
A-Song was holding a massive piece of roasted beast meat in both hands...
Eating with complete and total contentment, grease shining on his lips. He even let out an extremely cheerful burp.
Must be nice, having talent...
Mo Fan complained sourly in his heart.
He was the Sect Master's personal disciple. Tomorrow he'd stroll back to Dao Asking Palace and live like a big shot.
Meanwhile, Mo Fan was stuck suffering bitterly in this deep mountain and old forest.
However, come what may. Mo Fan sighed.
Since there was no way to hide from it, then tomorrow he could only see what kind of tricks this old man was going to play again.
After the meal, Mo Fan made plans with A-Song—once this bothersome assembly was over tomorrow...
The two brothers would head down the mountain together to find Old Lü and have a proper gathering to catch up.
The next morning. Full daylight.
The early autumn sunlight dispersed the canyon's morning mist.
However, beneath Hundred Forging Peak's perpetually desolate mountain gate—the one with the half-broken plaque that no one had ever bothered to fix...
An extremely bizarre liveliness presented itself today.
The peak's collection of misfits and exiles had gathered in one place for what was possibly the first time in recorded history.
They stood in loose clusters: dark circles under their eyes, suspicious stains on their robes...
Squinting against the blinding sunlight and yawning with the enthusiasm of people who deeply resented being conscious.
But deterred by Elder Lin Dong's despotic authority, everyone could only stand here honestly, like a group of prisoners awaiting judgment.
Mo Fan naturally mixed into this crowd as well. Today, he'd specifically dressed in the most inconspicuous gray clothes he owned.
He extremely cunningly found the burliest, broadest-shouldered Senior Brothers in the line and firmly wedged himself behind their shadows...
Wishing he could bury his head in his crotch.
Keeping his eyes and ears open in all directions, as long as there was any sign of trouble or he noticed Elder Lin Dong showing signs of recognizing him...
He would absolutely turn his head and run without hesitation, drilling straight into his tunnels and never coming out for the rest of his life.
"What do you think set the Elder off today?" someone lowered their voice and muttered in the crowd.
"No idea. But he definitely hasn't held in any good farts. Just play it by ear later; absolutely don't be the bird that sticks its head out."
Just as the crowd was whispering to each other and feeling panicky—
WHOOSH—!
A highly oppressive streak of light tore through the sky from deep within the rear mountain, arriving in the blink of an eye.
The stream of light dispersed, and Elder Lin Dong's slightly thin figure in gray robes drifted down gracefully.
Looking purely at the momentum of this entrance—Lin Dong standing with his hands behind his back on the steps, his gray hair fluttering slightly in the wind...
He actually truly possessed a bit of that transcendent, immortal-like, peerless demeanor of a Golden Core stage mighty figure.
The originally noisy crowd was as if collectively cast with a Silencing Spell the instant Lin Dong landed, turning dead silent.
Everyone lowered their heads in fear and trembling, quietly awaiting this Peak Master to speak.
However, Lin Dong didn't speak immediately.
He stood on the high stone steps, his brows furrowed tightly, seemingly weighing his words.
With his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth on the steps for a good long while.
Suddenly.
He halted his steps, turned around...
And slowly, inch by inch, swept his highly penetrating gaze over every single person present like a searchlight sweeping a dark room.
All the disciples swept by his gaze felt a bout of numbness on their scalps, their backs instantly breaking out in a dense layer of cold sweat.
Everyone frantically wailed in their hearts:
We're screwed, we're screwed! This old man's look means he's absolutely holding in some insanely wicked idea again!
In a suffocating, deathly silence, Lin Dong finally slowly spoke.
"All disciples."
Lin Dong coughed dryly twice. His tone actually contained a rare trace of guilt.
"This old man used the privilege of a Peak Master today to specially, forcibly summon you all here; truly, I feel guilty in my heart."
"However..."
The direction of his words abruptly shifted.
"It's just that, while reading through ancient texts recently, this old man birthed an extremely brilliant concept in his heart..."
Sure enough!
On the surface, everyone was respectful and submissive, looking at their noses and their hearts...
But in their minds, they had long since started frantically cursing his mother.
This old man was indeed holding in bad water.
But exactly because of this, everyone instead became even more quiet out of fear...
One by one wishing they could stop breathing, terrified of being the bird that sticks its head out.
The entire field went cold for a full minute.
Ultimately, as the nominal "Eldest Senior Brother," Wu Mang truly couldn't hold out anymore.
Biting the bullet, his face suffocated until it looked like pig liver...
He took half a step out from the crowd with extreme difficulty and asked dryly:
"I wonder what brilliant idea... the Elder has?"
Seeing that he finally had a stepping stone to get down, Lin Dong's eyes lit up abruptly.
"It's nothing major either! And it certainly holds no danger to your lives!"
Lin Dong rubbed his hands together, his tone dropping into something almost coaxing.
"This old man merely needs a few disciples with Brimming Blood Qi to cooperate with this old man in completing some small, extremely safe research. That is all!"
Brimming Blood Qi.
The moment those words landed, the originally deathly still crowd erupted into barely-suppressed agitation like an exploding pot.
In the cultivation world, spiritual cultivation was inherently dominant.
The number of people walking the path of body cultivation was already extremely small.
And in the Azure Cloud Sect, they were practically mythological.
At this moment, Mo Fan, who had been firmly shrinking in the shadows the whole time, felt his heart skip a beat.
Holy shit. Oh no no no. He's coming for me.
Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is the best!
Mo Fan abandoned all pretense of subtlety.
He silently turned around, hunched over, and began working his way toward the back of the crowd...
Ready to take advantage of the chaos, grease the soles of his feet, and slip away.
However, in the instant he turned around.
He suddenly felt a terrifying pushing force transmit from his buttocks without any warning!
BANG!
Someone behind him had extremely wickedly and viciously launched a cheap-shot kick!
"WHAT THE—!"
Mo Fan let out a pathetic yelp, his entire body instantly losing balance.
Like a fired meatball, he shot directly forward out of the crowded throng!
Mid-flight, Mo Fan angrily turned his head back, attempting to find the bastard who had ambushed him.
But he despairingly discovered that the culprit had already seamlessly and perfectly vanished into the surrounding sea of innocent-looking faces.
THUD.
Mo Fan crashed out of the formation, sprawling face-down on the open ground at the very front...
Directly exposed under Elder Lin Dong's gaze.
With this, the entire assembly of Hundred Forging Peak disciples exhaled a long sigh of relief as if unburdened.
Seeing Mo Fan "actively" step forward, the crowd began enthusiastically throwing admiring gazes at him and volunteering him.
"Elder! That's right! Isn't our Junior Brother literally the only body cultivator on this peak?!"
"That's right! Junior Brother has brimming blood qi and abundant Yang energy! Just yesterday he blew up a rock with a single punch! He's the obvious choice!"
Lying face-down on the ground, listening to the people who had been calling him Junior Brother ten minutes ago throw him to the wolves without a moment's hesitation...
Mo Fan wanted to weep but had no tears.
He pushed himself up, squeezed out the most pitiful smile he could manage at Lin Dong on the steps, and waved his hands desperately.
"E-Elder... this humble one's cultivation is shallow and his flesh is frail... I fear I am really not suited for—"
"PERFECT! Excellent!"
Lin Dong wasn't listening to a single word. Sharp lights shot out of his old eyes. He raised his hand violently, and an irresistible, massive pulling force erupted from nowhere!
WHOOSH.
Before Mo Fan could even react, his entire being was grabbed by the collar across the air—lifted clean off the ground...
And dangled in midair in front of Lin Dong's face.
The Elder leaned close to Mo Fan, trembling with excitement, examining him the way a collector examines a peerless, priceless artifact.
"What blood qi! What a physical body! What a good material!"
"This old man has searched for so long and finally encountered one with such solid blood qi! It's you! You're the one!"
Suspended in midair, Mo Fan hung his limbs, having lost the will to live...
Staring into the middle distance with the expression of a man who had made peace with his dark fate.
And down on the ground. The surviving disciples of Hundred Forging Peak looked up at him in an extremely uniform manner...
Putting on expressions of deep, solemn mourning for him.
Zhao Ziwei in the crowd was even "moved" to tears at this moment.
He extremely exaggeratedly pulled out a dirty white handkerchief from somewhere inside his robe and waved it up at Mo Fan...
His voice cracking with theatrical grief.
"Junior Brother Xiaoqi... go in peace! Your great sacrifice for Hundred Forging Peak... we will never, ever forget you!"