Beat to a Pulp

Night had sunk deep, and the side room was deathly still.

In the empty room, Yu'er was still curled up, trembling, his little face full of fear and deathly pale.

All around him, ghosts loomed in the gloom, demons danced in chaos, Black Water churned murkily, flecked with scarlet, as if it were Purgatory—but ordinary cultivators could not see any of it.

Mo Hua stood silently in front of Yu'er, his expression calm, staring straight at the swarm of demons.

There was a trace of disdain in his gaze, as if he were provoking them.

The demons were enraged. Their deformed, grotesque demon heads and ghost faces all wore ravenous expressions, drool spilling from their mouths as they stared fixedly at Mo Hua, yet they seemed not to dare act rashly.

They seemed to be begging something for permission.

Then a strange voice suddenly rang out.

It was sinister and icy, yet seemed to contain supreme majesty.

The horde of demons and Evil Spirits showed reverence in their eyes, but the excitement in their expressions could not be concealed.

It was as if someone had told them, "You may feed now..."

The swarm of demons instantly snarled ferociously, transforming into clumps of filthy yin wind as they pounced toward Mo Hua's Sea of Consciousness.

Mo Hua stood there "blankly," allowing the demons to turn into puddles of Black Water-like demonic shadows and burrow into his Sea of Consciousness.

Once the demons entered Mo Hua's Sea of Consciousness, the sinister aura in the room gradually disappeared.

The fear on Yu'er's little face also gradually faded, and his little hands and feet stopped struggling, slowly settling down.

But Mo Hua's face was covered in a layer of gloom; his eyes were vacant, and the space between his brows had turned black.

In