Escorting the Prisoner

The biting mountain wind howled past, carrying the scent of rotting leaves and damp earth, striking Chu Ning's cheeks fiercely.

The night was poured out like thick ink, shrouding Eagle Beak Cliff in deathly silence. Jagged rocks gleamed coldly under the moonlight, like the fangs of a giant beast, ready to devour any intruder.

Chu Ning crouched in the shadow of the cliff top, his fingertips rubbing the night dew congealed on the arrowheads.

Below, a winding dragon of torches was passing through the narrowest part of the Serpent Shed bend. The Xuan Tie prison cages cast web-like shadows in the firelight.

The clanking of chains was mixed with the suppressed sobs of young children.

"The Wang Family treats even living people like 'goods'?"

His gaze, cold as ice, fixed on the convoy winding its way below.

"Three quarters past the hour of the dog, the first carriage enters the bend."

Chu Ning slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air. The Void Spirit Bell in his palm emitted a faint, eerie blue light, strangely distorting the surrounding air.

His rapid breaths seemed to be filtered, leaving only the distant chime of a bell.

Even stranger, as he stepped onto the rock face, pebbles from his boots fell with a rustle, yet not a speck of dust was disturbed, as if he were walking in a reflected void.

The three gilded carriages were like lambs awaiting slaughter, slowly squeezing into the Eagle Beak crevice, barely wide enough for one carriage.

"Crack!"

The instant the bowstring vibrated, the thick, bowl-sized vines on the east cliff face snapped. The arrow, infused with Thunderous Force, exploded with a blinding purple light, and the thousand-pound stones hidden behind the vines crashed down.

Arrow flew, stones shattered, horses screamed, people died.

The driver of the lead carriage didn't even have time to scream, crushed into a bloody pulp along with his horse.

"Attack! Protect the carriages!"

The convoy descended into chaos instantly. Screams and the sound of weapons being drawn mingled, and the atmosphere became tense in a flash.

The guard captain's roar tore through the night sky as over twenty martial artists simultaneously drew their sabers.

Before the convoy could fully stop, Chu Ning decisively made his move.

The second arrow pierced a crevice in the west cliff, accurately embedding itself into a weathered load-bearing stone.

The entire mountainside groaned like a dying beast, and the collapsing rock layers completely sealed off their retreat.

Chu Ning descended from the cliff top like a phantom. The cold gleam of his rusted saber reflected the huddled children in the prison cages.

Those pale little faces bore a numbness beyond their years. The youngest girl even extended her wrist towards the iron bars, which were covered in needle marks from blood extraction.

"Wang Family..." Chu Ning's throat rumbled with a beast-like growl, the lightning patterns on his saber blade surging.

"Boom!"

The Thunderous Force, like silver snakes, tore through the mist of blood. The violent lightning, carrying terrifying impact, directly overturned the first carriage, snapping its wheels and scattering the startled horses.

"Hehehe..."

A bloody shadow darted out from the cracking carriage.

Wang Zheng's face contorted in the blood mist, web-like crimson patterns crawling like poisonous snakes beneath his skin.

His eyes were completely consumed by crimson, his fingernails growing into black blades, each strike carrying the stench of rotten flesh. "You think... you can save them?"

His voice, as if squeezed from an abyss, was hoarse with manic laughter. "These children... are already offerings to the Ancestor!"

The web-like crimson patterns on Wang Zheng's face writhed like living things. His flesh seemed soaked in blood, and his hands, emitting a chilling glint, brought a foul-smelling wind straight towards Chu Ning's throat.

"Wang Zheng? A Blood Puppet?" Chu Ning's heart trembled violently, but his saber stance only intensified.

The Thunderous Force exploded at the point of impact, making the rotten flesh on Wang Zheng's right arm sizzle.

"Hah... daring to rob the Wang Family's silver carriage..." Wang Zheng's vocal cords seemed seared by a branding iron. "The Ancestor wants your... eyeballs to pickle in wine."

His reply was three consecutive arrows. The arrows pierced the blood mist and embedded themselves in the rock face, forming a lightning cage in the night sky.

He hadn't expected that "Hundred Steps Penetrating Willow" and "Thunderclap Saber Art" could fuse into a new move. The dancing electric light locked Wang Zheng firmly in place.

"Speak! Where are these children being sent?" Chu Ning's saber tip pressed against the Blood Puppet's brow.

Wang Zheng grinned, his mouth dripping black blood, and suddenly reached to tear open his clothes.

Nine bronze nails were embedded in his chest, three of which had rusted into the bone. "The Blood Refining Hall... granted me an immortal body." Before he finished speaking, his entire body suddenly swelled like a ball.

Chu Ning retreated explosively, his toes pushing off the ground. The spot where he had stood was now a ten-foot-deep pit corroded by poisonous blood.

Wang Zheng's body expanded to its limit like an inflated balloon. The moment his skin split, countless blood bats, carrying a foul black mist, surged out.

Each bat's back bore a distorted human face – the likeness of the children who had been refined.

Their scarlet eyes locked onto the children in the prison cages. They shrieked and lunged towards the cages, their cries and laughter merging into a piercing, demonic sound.

Chu Ning's pupils contracted sharply.

"Swoosh swoosh swoosh!"

His arrows pierced the foremost bats. The human faces dissolved into bloody foam, splashing onto the iron bars and corroding them with hissing white smoke.

Seven iron arrows broke through the air, pinning the bats three feet in front of the prison cages.

Chu Ning seized the opportunity to leap onto the last carriage. As his saber blade sliced through the Xuan Tie chains, sparks flew.

He slipped under the carriage like a ghost. He reached out slightly, fumbling in a hidden compartment beneath the carriage. His fingertips touched a raised mechanism, and with a gentle press, the compartment silently opened.

"RUMBLE!"

The entire carriage suddenly sank three feet. The moment the hidden compartment sprang open, nine bronze nails shot out.

Chu Ning swung his saber to block, but saw the nails form a bizarre formation in mid-air. The birth characters etched on the nails exuded blood under the moonlight.

The arrangement of Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches and the name on one of them caused his blood to freeze – it was clearly Wang Lin!

"The Wang Family Ancestor... is actually refining himself into a living corpse!" Chu Ning's heart churned with immense shock.

The Wang Family Ancestor wasn't extending his lifespan at all; he was splitting his soul and storing it in nine living corpses. Each corpse needed to be nurtured with the blood of his closest kin!

The Blood Refining Hall's secret arts had become terrifyingly potent. How many more filthy secrets did the Wang Family hide?

"Click."

The sound of mechanisms turning came from deep within the hidden compartment. Chu Ning spun around abruptly and slashed.

The moment his saber energy ripped open the carriage roof, he witnessed a sight he would never forget.

Nine similarly featured corpses were submerged in a pool of blood, each with a bronze nail inscribed with birth characters piercing its chest. The "corpse" in the very center suddenly opened its eyes, its mouth splitting into a grin that reached its ears: "Kid, your blood smells delicious."

"BOOM!"

His rusty saber, imbued with his fury, cleaved down, but was blocked by a blood shield that appeared out of nowhere.

Chu Ning's tiger mouth split, yet he saw the "corpse" raise its hand and summon a rain of blood. The raindrops corroded flesh to bone the instant they touched skin, and even the Void Spirit Bell's barrier began to tremble.

Wang Zheng seized the opportunity and lunged, his fingernails elongating three feet, intending to gouge out his heart.

At this moment of life and death, a ball of snow-white lightning shot out from Chu Ning's collar.

"CLANG!"

Amidst the clash of metal on metal, the Little White Fox's eyes blazed with green light. Its small body met the poisonous claws head-on, its snow-white fur instantly corroded by black blood over a large area.

It looked back and whimpered at Chu Ning. The Golden Cudgel Spell pattern on its left forepaw suddenly flared like the scorching sun.

"No!" Chu Ning's eyes were about to burst. The Little White Fox, however, had already transformed into a streak of blue fire, its nine illusory fox tails like chains entangling the Blood Puppet.

The Golden Cudgel Spell pattern spread from its brow to the Blood Puppet's entire body. Wherever it passed, the bronze nails shattered.

The Blood Puppet let out an inhuman howl, its body twisting into charcoal within the foxfire.

As the last bronze nail broke free from its body, the Little White Fox fell like a kite with a broken string.

Chu Ning lunged to catch it. The fur on his palm was no longer soft and warm, but carbonized flesh.

"Cough."

The Little White Fox's claw tip hooked his collar, its green pupils gradually losing focus.

The proud spirit beast that had refused to yield in the cave that day was now curled up in his arms like a kitten.

A sweet, metallic taste welled up in Chu Ning's throat. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, but he was oblivious.

The Little White Fox in his arms was rapidly losing warmth. Its originally lustrous green pupils were gradually covered by a layer of gray haze.

Its claws weakly hooked his collar, as if confirming his existence one last time.

"Hold on..." Chu Ning's voice was hoarse, almost broken. His fingertips trembled as he stroked its charred fur, where the pungent smell of burning after the fire still lingered.

Chu Ning staggered back to the edge of the cliff, a bottomless, dark abyss behind him.

He stared intently at the intact, gold-inlaid carriage and suddenly slashed the chains of the carriage shaft with his rusty saber.

Pulled by gravity, the carriage tilted and overturned, gold pouring down like a waterfall.

As it fell, he tightly hugged the dying Little White Fox, letting the sensation of weightlessness consume him.