Fallen Soul Masters, a Horrific Scene

Dusk fell.

On the road from Star Dou Great Forest back to Spirit City, a luxurious carriage rolled onward.

The driver was none other than Golden Crocodile Douluo. At this moment, he had completely concealed his aura, appearing no different from an ordinary old man.

They had already traveled forty or fifty li from Star Dou Great Forest, and still had more than half the journey to Spirit City ahead of them. They planned to return overnight.

Suddenly, Golden Crocodile Douluo frowned and tightened his grip on the reins.

The horses whinnied, reared high on their front legs, then came down heavily and stopped.

The carriage curtain lifted, and Su Mo leaned out. "Grandpa Golden Crocodile, what..."

Before he could finish, a faint breeze drifted past.

Su Mo's nose twitched slightly, and his brows instantly knotted together.

The wind carried an intense stench of blood!

"In a village southeast of here, a group of Fallen Soul Masters is committing atrocities." Golden Crocodile Douluo spread out his spiritual power to investigate. "There are four of them, each around the Soul Ancestor level."

Spirit City and Star Dou Great Forest both lay between the Two Great Empires, Heaven Dou and Star Luo. Their route home necessarily passed through the borderlands.

And the borderlands were always the most chaotic places. Though Spirit Hall had prevented an all-out war from erupting, friction along the borders of the Two Great Empires had never ceased.

In such chaotic places, Fallen Soul Masters often committed crimes.

"Grandpa Golden Crocodile," Su Mo said gravely, "one of Spirit Hall's duties is to strike down Fallen Soul Masters. We cannot stand by and do nothing."

Golden Crocodile Douluo nodded faintly. "Naturally."

Su Mo's eyes blazed with fighting spirit. "Let me handle this battle alone. I want to test my current strength.

Unless my life is in danger, Grandpa Golden Crocodile, please do not intervene."

"Alright." Golden Crocodile Douluo nodded calmly.

They were only a few Soul Ancestors. If Su Mo came to harm under his protection, then he would have lived more than a hundred years for nothing.

Golden Crocodile Douluo stamped his foot against the ground and soared into the air.

The Black-Gold Sword Wings behind Su Mo's back abruptly unfurled. With a beat of his wings, he followed close behind Golden Crocodile Douluo.

With Golden Crocodile Douluo's spiritual power enveloping them, their auras were completely concealed, as though they had merged into the night itself.

A moment later.

They landed in the bushes outside the village.

Su Mo narrowed his eyes and looked ahead. In the next instant, his pupils contracted sharply.

Before them stood a small village with a dozen or so mud-brick houses.

But most of the houses had already collapsed, white smoke rising from the broken walls and ruins.

The night wind swept past, carrying a heavy scent of blood and burnt flesh.

In the clearing at the center of the village, a bonfire burned fiercely, illuminating the entire open space.

Dozens of corpses lay scattered around it—men and women, young and old.

Most had skin tightly stretched over their bones, hollow eye sockets, and slightly open mouths, like mummified corpses that had been dried for centuries.

Beneath an old locust tree at the edge of the clearing, three young women huddled together.

They trembled violently, biting their lips hard and not daring to make a sound.

The woman farthest inside held a child of two or three in her arms, one hand tightly covering the child's mouth.

The child stared wide-eyed, whimpering through muffled sobs.

Beside the bonfire stood four Fallen Soul Masters—three men and one woman.

A bald, muscular man had the phantom of a Blood Bat emerging behind him.

He sat cross-legged, a faint blood-red glow circling his body. Before him lay a villager who had only just lost his breath.

Clearly, he was absorbing life force to cultivate.

Beside the bald man sat a woman of average appearance.

Several black markings ran along her neck. Her Martial Soul was a black vine, which was wrapped around a villager as it too drained life force for cultivation.

Not far away, a short, fat man held a clay jar and tipped his head back, gulping greedily.

Blood-red liquid streamed down from the corners of his mouth and dripped onto his clothes. He paid it no mind, merely swallowing mouthful after mouthful as his Adam's apple bobbed.

After finishing, he wiped his mouth, stretched out his tongue to lick away the blood at the corner of his lips, and let out a long sigh of satisfaction. His face was full of bliss, as if he had tasted the most delicious food in the world.

Just then, a tall, thin man beside the fat man rose to his feet.

His face was deathly pale, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and dark circles hung beneath his eyes, making him look thoroughly drained by indulgence.

He rolled his neck, then turned his gaze toward the women beneath the old locust tree, a lewd smile curling across his lips.

He walked toward them.

"N-No... don't come closer..."

As one woman watched him approach, her body began to shake violently, and she desperately shrank backward.

But her back soon pressed against the rough trunk. There was nowhere left to retreat.

The tall, thin man grinned, revealing a mouthful of uneven yellow teeth.

"Little beauty, don't be afraid." He licked his cracked lips, his voice hoarse. "If you want to live, serve me properly. If you make me happy, maybe I'll let you live a few more days."

He reached out for the woman's collar.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch her clothes, a piercing whistle suddenly tore through the night sky!

The tall, thin man jerked his hand back and spun around.

His pupils contracted instantly as countless black-gold streaks shot toward him like a torrential downpour.

The lewdness vanished from his face, replaced by terror.

In his panic, he released his Martial Soul—a Bone Blade. It was not the normal white of bone, but white tinged with red, as if it had been soaked in countless gallons of blood, giving off an eerie dark crimson sheen.

Three Spirit Rings rose beneath his feet: white, yellow, and yellow. His Soul Power fluctuations were at level thirty-nine.

The tall, thin man tried to unleash a Soul Skill to block the attack.

But he was still too slow. His Third Spirit Ring had only just lit up.

The black-gold streaks suddenly converged in midair, forming a cone.

Sshhk—!

The Black-Gold Cone instantly pierced through his chest!

The tremendous impact hurled his body backward. With a bang, he slammed violently into the distant ruins.

He fell to the ground, sprawled in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open and his breath already gone.

A bloody hole the size of a bowl gaped in his chest, piercing clean through from front to back. Blood poured from the wound, rapidly spreading beneath him.

"Ahhh—!"

The women beneath the old locust tree were splashed with blood and screamed.

The Black-Gold Cone did not stop. Instead, it cut through the air, abruptly split apart, and became three streaks of light that shot toward the three people by the bonfire.

However, the tall, thin man's sudden death had already put them on alert.

The three had now released their Martial Souls, Spirit Rings flashing around them.

The bald man and the fat man both had optimal Spirit Ring configurations.

The bald man's Soul Power fluctuations were at level forty-five.

The fat man was at level forty-four.

The woman's Spirit Rings were white, yellow, purple, and purple, and her Soul Power was at level forty-one.

The bald, muscular man strode forward and stood before the female Spirit Master, since she was a control-type Spirit Master with a plant Martial Soul and relatively weak defenses.

Just as the black streaks were about to strike, the bald man's third Spirit Ring suddenly lit up. The Blood Bat violently spread its wings, then folded them forward.

A blood-red barrier instantly condensed around him.