A Real Man Never Looks Back at an Explosion (Second Update, Please Vote!)

Compared with the Rebel Army's camp, the court's encampment was far more orderly. Everything ran like clockwork, and morale seemed much higher.

Meng Qi, wearing an iron-black mask, walked through camp with his back straight and his pace unhurried. His black armor clinked crisply with every step, and his air grew ever colder and more inscrutable. No one dared look him in the eye or step forward to question him.

Using the Threads of Karma, he had only deduced the approximate location of the Gu Master and gained a preliminary understanding of his strength and identity. He knew nothing of the specifics, let alone the conditions along the way, so he didn't dare hurry. He went around obstacles and, when he reached checkpoints, showed his "personal token" and coldly said that he had business to attend to.

Perhaps because he wasn't heading for the camp's core, or perhaps because the Gu Master was one of the camp's few powerful experts, someone who protected others and suppressed assassins rather than worrying about being assassinated himself, Meng Qi's movements hadn't drawn anyone's attention. He reached the tent he had deduced without incident.

Behind the tent, blood-red light soared. Even without his discerning eye, Meng Qi could roughly picture what lay there just by sensing it: corpses arranged according to some kind of formation, some skinned, others with their eyes gouged out. All had been tortured to death, their poisonous hatred so dense it seemed almost tangible, gathering at a blood-red lotus-shaped altar in the center.

This definitely had something to do with the Blood Sea Rakshasa. Even without knowing that we're here to complete a mission, he wouldn't pass up a chance to stir up trouble and plot against us! Meng Qi narrowed his eyes and stopped before the tent.

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