The Mole's End

Inside the hidden passage, the musty scent of decayed earth mingled with a faint, elusive smell of blood, rushing to meet him.

The torchlight was limited, illuminating only three feet of ground beneath his feet. In the deeper darkness beyond, it felt as if a ferocious beast lay in wait, ready to devour anyone who approached—a silence so profound it chilled the heart.

Lu Chen's figure drifted down like a weightless fallen leaf, silent and ethereal.

The moment his feet touched the ground, his minor-achieved Shadow Demon Trace Steps activated on its own, dissolving all sound and impact into nothingness.

At this moment, he was a true specter, perfectly melded with the deep, oppressive darkness.

The passage was irregular, clearly hastily dug. The walls were slick and damp, with cold groundwater droplets occasionally falling, striking the ground with crisp "drip" sounds that rang out sharply in the deathly stillness.

Lu Chen did not rush to pursue.

He stuck the torch into the muddy wall beside him, half-closed his eyes, and quietly activated the [Eye of Delusion Breaking].

Deep within his gaze, a faint, clear light that ordinary eyes could not perceive flickered past.

The entire passage transformed in his vision.

In the air, an extremely faint trace of blood and qi—belonging to Foreman Wang's impure and chaotic aura—stretched like a broken firefly's trail, extending into the depths of the darkness.

On the ground and walls ahead, several energy fluctuations that clashed with the surrounding environment appeared clearly in his sight.

"Crude tripwires, connected to poisoned crossbow bolts... and hidden in the wall crevices, needles coated with lethal venom..."

A cold, mocking smile curled at the corner of Lu Chen's mouth.

A cornered beast's struggle—how laughable.

His form flickered, like a wisp of smoke threading through gaps of light and shadow, weaving through those crude yet deadly traps with an impossible angle and speed, passing through them with effortless ease.

Those sinister arrangements, enough to send any martial artist of the same rank to their grave, didn't even graze the hem of his clothes.

The passage wound downward. After about a hundred zhang, it suddenly opened up.

A crude stone chamber, hollowed out from the mountain's interior, appeared before Lu Chen.

The chamber was small, only seven or eight zhang square. In the corner, a pile of gold, silver, and jewels gleamed with vulgar light. On a wooden shelf to the side sat some low-grade pills and Demon Materials, clearly the spoils Foreman Wang had skimmed over the years.

At the very center of the chamber, Foreman Wang knelt with his back to the entrance before a crude stone altar. His body trembled violently as he muttered incantations, seemingly performing some sinister ritual.

His voice was hoarse and mad, dripping with venom.

"Lord Ghost Face... Lord Ghost Face, save me! I offer you everything I have! I'll be your most loyal dog! Just... just grant me the power to kill that little bastard! Kill him!"

On the stone altar before him lay a half-faced, ferocious mask forged from an unknown black metal!

The mask's design matched exactly what Lu Chen had seen in Fu An's memories. It now emanated a faint, chilling aura that made one's heart tremble.

Lu Chen's steps halted at the entrance of the chamber.

He didn't hide. He simply stood there, the torch in his hand casting his shadow long and thin against the cold stone wall.

"Are you... calling for me?"

His flat voice rang out abruptly in the deathly silent chamber, like a death knell from the deepest abyss.

Foreman Wang's frantic prayers cut off instantly. His body stiffened as if frozen by a spell.

Slowly, inch by inch, he turned his head. When he saw the black-clad youth standing behind him like a ghost, silent and unseen, his triangular eyes were instantly filled with boundless terror and disbelief!

"You... you..." Foreman Wang's lips trembled, his teeth chattering, "Those traps..."

"You mean those little mousetraps you set on the ground?" Lu Chen's face wore a mocking smile as he walked step by step toward Foreman Wang. "Using those against a person is far too childish."

Each step he took struck like a heavy hammer, pounding against Foreman Wang's heart.

The invisible pressure threatened to crush his spirit entirely!

"No! Impossible! How could you find this place so quickly! How could you..." Foreman Wang screamed incoherently, scrambling backward on all fours until his back hit the cold stone altar, with nowhere left to retreat.

A flash of extreme madness and venom flickered in his eyes.

"Little bastard! You forced me! You forced me!"

Foreman Wang grabbed the half-faced Ghost Face Mask from the altar and pressed it against his face without hesitation!

"Since you won't let me live, then we'll die together!"

"Sizzle—!!!"

A sound like a red-hot branding iron searing into flesh!

The moment the half-faced Ghost Face Mask touched Foreman Wang's skin, countless tiny black tendrils sprouted from its edges, burrowing deep into his flesh like living things!

"Aagh—!!!"

Foreman Wang let out a bloodcurdling scream, his body convulsing violently as veins bulged and writhed like earthworms beneath his skin.

A surge of Baleful Intent, far beyond his own cultivation level, filled with brutality and chaos, erupted from within him!

His originally plump frame withered visibly, replaced by a terrifying, rising aura that made one's heart pound!

In just a few breaths, he was no longer human. Half his face was covered by the ferocious mask, the other half twisted with bulging veins, his eyes replaced by a bloody crimson glow.

"Power... this is... the feeling of power!"

Foreman Wang felt the unprecedented surge of power within him and let out a mad, screeching laugh like a night owl.

He jerked his head up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Lu Chen, his voice dripping with venomous glee.

"Lu Chen! You wanted to kill me, didn't you? Come on! Let's see who dies today!"

Before the words had faded, the ground beneath him exploded, and he shot forward like a blood-red arrow, a foul wind trailing behind him as he lunged at Lu Chen.

His fingers twisted into pitch-black, razor-sharp claws, aiming straight for Lu Chen's heart.

The speed and force of this strike far surpassed the realm of a Yellow-rank martial artist, even brushing against the level of a Ranked Demon.

Yet, facing this thunderous, lethal blow, Lu Chen stood his ground, neither dodging nor evading.

He didn't even draw the Hundred Refinements Saber at his waist.

He merely watched the blood-red shadow closing in, his gaze as calm as an ancient, frozen pool, and a faint, almost imperceptible trace of... pity curled at the corner of his lips.

Just as the black claws were about to touch his chest.

A layer of Protective Qi, thin as a cicada's wing and nearly invisible to the naked eye, flickered across Lu Chen's body and vanished in an instant.

The perfected Ten Thousand Year Black Tortoise Art—immovable as a mountain!