Chapter 36: A Cruel World
The middle-aged man's eyes flashed with ruthlessness. The wiry man froze, unable to react in time before the middle-aged man struck him square in the chest with a backward palm.
Boom!
The wiry man had not expected the middle-aged man to attack so suddenly. The blow landed on his chest and sent him flying several meters.
"No… Ma Quan, you despicable scoundrel!"
The wiry man hit the ground, spat out a mouthful of blood, and roared in fury at the middle-aged man.
"Hiss…!"
Just then, a foul stench filled the air as a massive azure python-jiao* lunged forward, sinking its fangs into the wiry man.
"Ah…!"
Crunch!
With one savage bite, the python-jiao tore the wiry man's head from his shoulders. A fountain of blood spurted several meters high from the headless corpse. The scene was both bloody and horrifying. Without pausing, the python-jiao swallowed the body whole. In the few seconds it was distracted, the middle-aged man had already sprinted another twenty or thirty meters away—fully displaying the principle of "sacrifice your ally so you can survive."
This was the ugly side of human nature. In the face of mortal danger, people would do anything to save themselves.
"Damn it, that's downright vicious," Mu Kuang muttered angrily upon witnessing this. Mu Feng, on the other hand, remained relatively calm. After all, he had experienced life-and-death battles on the battlefield.
The selfishness of an ordinary cultivator can kill one person; the ambition of a powerful figure can cause the deaths of tens of thousands. Mu Feng had long understood this reality, which was why he was so determined to grow stronger—he refused to let anyone treat him like a pawn on a chessboard.
The middle-aged man ran a considerable distance, then used the tip of his toe to leap seven or eight meters high, grabbing hold of a sturdy tree trunk that jutted out from the cliff face. He was scaling the cliff on the same side where Mu Feng and Mu Kuang were hiding, only a few hundred meters away from them.
Clinging to the trunk, he sprang onto a tree branch, then pushed off again to reach a protruding rock ledge. In just two or three more leaps, he would have cleared the canyon.
But at that moment, the python-jiao rushed forward below, unleashing an enraged roar at the human thief attempting to escape with its eggs. A flash of azure light glimmered in the beast's maw, and two two-meter-long blades of azure energy shot out, slashing toward the fleeing man.
The middle-aged man's face paled. He raised his large sword in a desperate block. Up in the air, there was nowhere to dodge.
Clang!
One azure blade clanged against his sword with a piercing metallic ring. Luckily, the weapon in his hand was a low-grade Yuan Artifact he had spent years saving up for. Had it been an ordinary steel sword, it would never have withstood that blow. The recoil from blocking the strike actually propelled him upward, closer to the canyon's edge—he was momentarily overjoyed, for he thought he could use that force to escape.
Unfortunately, his celebration came too soon; the second azure blade followed right behind.
Slash…!
"Ah…!"
The energy blade cut directly into his left shoulder, severing his arm completely. The limb fell away, and he tumbled hard onto the canyon rim—still alive, but missing an arm.
Down below, the python-jiao roared in frustration. Its massive body was too large to climb the smooth cliff face; all it could do was watch helplessly as the human thief escaped with its eggs.
Thud!
"Ah…!"
The middle-aged man slammed into the ground on top of the cliff, clutching his severed arm and howling in agony. He had lost a limb in exchange for three python-jiao eggs—he could not tell whether he had earned a fortune or suffered a crippling loss. At least it was not his sword arm; otherwise, his entire cultivation would practically be ruined.
Still in pain, the man forced himself to his feet and staggered a hundred meters away from the cliff before plopping down on the ground. Blood was still pouring from his wound. Opening the beast-skin pouch on his back, he took out three eggs the size of fists: two were azure in color, while one was actually white.
These three python-jiao eggs would each sell for at least several thousand gold coins, enough for him to enjoy a life of luxury for years without having to continue this dangerous lifestyle.
With trembling hands, he retrieved a bottle of medicinal liquid and poured it over his severed shoulder, gritting his teeth at the wave of pain. Fortunately, the bleeding soon stopped. Pale-faced and still reeling from shock, he lay down on the ground, gulping for air.
That python-jiao's power was easily on par with a cultivator at least in the fourth level of the Condensed Gang Middle Stage. The middle-aged man himself was only at the sixth level of the Zifu realm, Middle Stage. Fighting the beast head-on would have been suicide. If he had not sacrificed his companion to buy time, he would likely have been devoured as well.
"Damn it… The moment this is over, I'm heading straight to Qinghua Tower to indulge for a month."
He cursed under his breath. Still in pain, he sat down cross-legged to restore the Yuan Power he had spent in the battle.
Not far away, along the edge of the cliff, Mu Feng and Mu Kuang peered out from the undergrowth, watching the python-jiao hiss in anger before retreating back into the deeper part of the canyon.
"That old bastard is lucky to have escaped. People like him deserve to be eaten alive," Mu Kuang said with a cold snort, clearly disgusted by the man's callous act of sacrificing a comrade.
"Heh, so he dodged the python-jiao's jaws—but who's to say he can dodge us…?" Mu Feng let out a low chuckle as a daring plan formed in his mind.
"What's that supposed to mean, Brother Feng? You want to take him out and steal his loot?" Mu Kuang grasped Mu Feng's implication immediately.
"Indeed. He's badly wounded and has burned a lot of Yuan Power. His fighting strength must be greatly reduced. There should be valuable items in his bag." Mu Feng narrowed his eyes.
"Ha! Then let's do it. Honestly, someone like that—a complete scumbag—deserves nothing better than death!" Mu Kuang sounded eager for action, clearly having no qualms about causing trouble.
"Still, he's at the Zifu realm. If we clashed with him directly when we were at full strength, we might stand a chance, but we're weaker now. We can't confront him head-on. Let's do this…"
Mu Feng whispered his plan into Mu Kuang's ear, who nodded repeatedly. The two began a stealthy approach toward the injured man's location.
The middle-aged man sat there drawing in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to replenish himself when, all of a sudden, cries for help echoed from not far away.
"Help! Ow… someone help! I've broken my leg… help…!"
The middle-aged man's eyes flew open. Gripping his sword tightly, he rose to his feet. He heard the cries coming from just ahead—someone apparently in trouble.
He hesitated. After all, he was gravely injured. But the voice sounded quite young, possibly a teenage boy. The middle-aged man finally decided to check it out and headed in that direction, sword in hand.
Walking about two hundred meters, he spotted a long-haired youth, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, lying below a rock. The boy was clutching his leg with a pained expression, as if he had truly broken it in a fall