Chapter 764 – Severed Fingers
Despite his pale face, Song Jian mustered his courage and asked:
"You… who are you? How can there be a demon cultivator in the Qianxue Province? What do you want? And where is this place?"
He fired off all the questions at once—but the chill in his heart made his voice tremble.
The demon cultivator let out a sinister smile, refusing to answer.
The prison was dark and soaked in a bloody hue.
Ouyang Mu looked nervous, and Linghu Xiao's expression was heavy.
After a pause, Song Jian said coldly:
"I am Song Jian of the main line of the Song family in Broken Gold Sect. You'd better not mess with me—otherwise, my family will never let you off!"
The demon cultivator scoffed, his voice cold and mocking:
"The Song family… can't even protect itself."
His hoarse, raspy voice sounded like an owl crying in the dead of night.
Song Jian was stunned, unsure if it was true. Then he shouted angrily:
"You damn demon! What nonsense are you spewing?!"
The demon cultivator didn't get angry. Instead, he pulled out two pieces of letter paper from his sleeve and handed them to Song Jian and Ouyang Mu.
"Use your blood—write a letter."
He pointed a reddish, tumor-ridden finger at Song Jian and said:
"Yours… is for your parents. Tell them you're in our hands. If they want you to live, they'd better behave. Otherwise… prepare to collect your corpse."
Then he turned to look at Ouyang Mu.
Though most of his face was hidden under his black robe, his tone carried a cryptic, meaningful weight:
"As for you… write to your brother. Tell him to be more obedient…"
Ouyang Mu froze.
Mo Hua, watching secretly, was also surprised.
Little Wooden's brother… Senior Brother Feng?
So they captured Song Jian to threaten his parents—and by extension, the Song family.
But as for Ouyang Mu, they were using him to threaten Senior Brother Feng?
And the phrase "be more obedient"…
That implied they had already approached Senior Brother Feng before.
And since he wasn't obedient, they now captured his younger brother as leverage?
Mo Hua frowned, then turned his attention to Linghu Xiao.
Song Jian and Little Wooden both had to write letters—but what about Linghu Xiao?
After thinking it over, Mo Hua found it understandable.
Linghu Xiao had great talent in the sword path and was valued by the sect…
But his background wasn't impressive—he was only a collateral branch of the Linghu family.
He didn't have close ties to anyone, no prominent elders or relatives.
There was no one they could use to blackmail him.
And these demon cultivators… there was no way they'd be stupid enough to send a ransom letter to Grand Elder Chongxu of the Great Void Sect.
That would be pure insanity.
Even the craziest fool wouldn't dare try that.
Back inside the cell, it was clear that Little Wooden wasn't going to betray his brother.
He held the letter tightly, his face full of stubborn defiance.
His expression practically screamed: "You'll have to kill me first."
Ouyang Mu remained silent.
Surprisingly, even Song Jian showed a bit of backbone.
"Tell my parents to behave? What the hell do you think you are?!"
"You want to threaten the Song family? You filthy half-demon freak—what gives you the right?!"
He spat out the words furiously.
The towering demon cultivator's face was hidden in shadow, but the fury radiating from him was clear.
After a pause, he gave a chilling laugh:
"Refuse the wine of courtesy, and you'll be forced to drink the wine of punishment."
"Won't write the letter? Then I'll just have to take something else from you…"
His murderous intent surged.
Before Song Jian could react, a foul wind blew toward him.
A sharp pain tore through his hand.
He looked down—blood was gushing from his fingers.
His pinky had been sliced clean off.
Faced with a brutal demon cultivator at the peak of Foundation Establishment, Song Jian—a pampered mid-stage cultivator from a noble family—stood no chance at all.
He grunted in pain, face pale and drenched in cold sweat.
It had all happened in an instant.
Linghu Xiao's expression changed. He quickly shouted:
"Junior Brother Mu!"
Ouyang Mu had been in a daze, but Linghu Xiao's voice snapped him out of it.
Just as he moved to back away, a towering, blood-reeking figure closed in.
A vice-like grip seized his wrist, bringing searing pain.
Then, with a flash of red light—
his pinky finger was cut off as well.
Ouyang Mu winced, gasping through clenched teeth.
Still, he didn't cry out—his willpower was strong.
Linghu Xiao's fury exploded.
"You beast!"
The demon was hulking, pitch-black, like a walking mountain, holding two severed pinkies in his hand. Blood dripped steadily from them.
He glanced at Linghu Xiao, his tone strangely polite:
"Apologies, young master."
That line made Linghu Xiao's sword heart tremble—an ominous premonition rose in his chest.
But he was shackled in chains and had no sword. He couldn't fight back.
The demon was fast—blindingly fast.
In a blink, he was in front of Linghu Xiao.
A foul wind surged—
And just like that, a small portion of Linghu Xiao's hand was sliced off.
Pain exploded.
Linghu Xiao's face went pale. He bit down hard, not making a sound.
But his gaze was sharp—like a drawn sword, cold and deadly.
The demon remained silent, but clearly… he avoided Linghu Xiao's gaze.
It seemed even he was wary of provoking Linghu Xiao too much.
And so…
All three had a pinky finger severed.
The demon cultivator took out three wooden boxes and placed the severed fingers inside.
He said coldly:
"Since you refuse to write, I'll settle for a token of proof."
He then casually tossed them each a glowing white pill:
"Take it. With this, your fingers can grow back."
"I'm just following orders. If you cooperate, things are easier for everyone. If not—you'll suffer. Can't blame me for that…"
These words seemed more directed at Linghu Xiao than the other two.
After that, the demon sneered, pocketed the boxes, and turned to leave.
Exiting the prison, he called over a short, dog-headed demon cultivator and barked:
"Watch them carefully. One mistake and neither of us can afford the consequences."
"Yes," said the dog-headed demon, lowering his head.
The towering demon cultivator looked at him one more time, his voice hoarse:
"No slacking off. Or I'll feed you to the beasts."
The dog-headed demon shivered.
"Y-yes, sir… Supervisor!"
Overhead, Mo Hua—who had been eavesdropping—raised a brow.
So… he's the Supervisor.
No wonder. Mo Hua had sensed something different about this tall, fanged demon. His aura was far stronger—his status clearly higher.
After issuing his orders, the "Supervisor" gave the prison one last glance to confirm everything was in order, then turned and walked away.
The dog-headed demon respectfully saw him off.
But the moment he was gone, his expression turned cold.
He glanced at the prison with a mix of jealousy and resentment, muttering curses under his breath.
Still, he didn't dare disobey.
He carefully checked every detail of the cell—the chains, the arrays.
The captives—Linghu Xiao and the others—were still in their places, locked inside.
Only then did he turn and leave.
The prison suddenly became silent and desolate.
Only distant howls from unknown demon beasts echoed in the background, mingled with the moans of other prisoners being tortured.
The whole place felt like hell on earth.
Mo Hua glanced at the time.
It was almost due—so he used the Great Void Command to send the characters "Yi-Chou" (乙丑) to Elder Xun.
After sending it, he waited.
He was worried the weak magnetic field might interfere with the transmission. If Elder Xun acted too soon and barged in—it'd be a disaster.
After a while, Elder Xun replied: "Received."
Only then did Mo Hua nod in relief.
He looked down.
Linghu Xiao, Song Jian, and Ouyang Mu now sat silently, all looking defeated and despairing.
They had realized the truth of their situation.
The powerful demon cultivator, the blood-stained prison, and the faint, eerie sounds of beasts struggling all around made one thing clear—this place was a deathtrap, with no way out.
Their severed fingers still throbbed with blood and pain.
Until now, they'd all been either the sons of prestigious families or sword prodigies. Though they'd faced setbacks, they'd mostly grown up under the shelter of their clans and sects—they had never truly experienced the cruelty of the cultivation world.
Now, that cruelty had come crashing down in front of them.
Life and death were hanging by a thread.
The three of them weren't ready for this—at all.
Even Song Jian, who was usually cocky and arrogant, didn't dare make a peep. He crouched in a corner, clutching his bloody finger, face white as paper.
Ouyang Mu stared blankly, his mind full of unease.
Linghu Xiao looked calmer on the outside, but inside, he too was lost.
He no longer had a sword in hand.
And even if he did, he couldn't defeat these demon cultivators.
That tall demon who sliced off his finger earlier? Linghu Xiao knew he couldn't win against him—let alone whoever else might be lurking in this prison.
He drifted into a daze, and found himself remembering something he'd once said to Mo Hua.
Only now did he realize…
All those things about "a fair fight,""a sword path of solitude," and "not winning unless it's honorable"—
How childish they were.
In the real cultivation world, no one talks about "fairness."
No one duels you just to compare sword techniques.
They bring numbers and crush the few. They use strength to suppress the weak.
No one argues reason.
If you lose, then you lose. If you die, you die.
Linghu Xiao's proud heart grew heavy with shadow.
He finally understood—before truly ruthless enemies, his supposedly "powerful" sword skills… were really nothing special.
And more importantly—his finger was gone.
Linghu Xiao touched the small, gleaming pill in his hand, his mind wavering.
Ouyang Mu, beside him, was also hesitating.
He wanted to take the pill—but was scared to.
Their storage rings had been confiscated.
The only thing they had to treat their wounds… was this pill from a demon.
A severed finger could be a small or a serious injury.
The demons had only sliced off their pinkies. They hadn't used demonic energy or toxic spells.
The wounds weren't poisoned or corrupted.
If they took the pill quickly, the finger might grow back.
But if they waited too long, and the wound scabbed or the blood congealed—it'd be permanently lost.
Even if they used rare treasures later, there would still be flaws.
And worse, the hand that was injured was the right one.
Among the three, one was a swordsmith, two were sword cultivators.
At their current stage, all heavily relied on their right hands.
But… this pill was from a demon.
It looked fine on the surface, but… who knew if there was some hidden trap?
Ouyang Mu hesitated, then quietly asked:
"Senior Brother Linghu… can we take this?"
Linghu Xiao frowned and shook his head, sighing:
"I don't know either…"
Logically speaking, the pill had no smell of blood or demonic energy.
Its color and form were pure—it looked like a proper pill.
Even when the demon gave it to them, he had tossed it casually, like it was no big deal.
It didn't seem like a trap.
But still—it came from a demon.
If they took it, they might fall for something insidious.
If they didn't, and lost their pinky for good, it could ruin their future.
Ouyang Mu frowned harder, clearly conflicted. He couldn't help thinking:
If only Little Senior Brother were here…
He's so smart. He always knows everything. He'd definitely know if this could be taken or not…
But—how could Senior Brother Mo be here?
Ouyang Mu gave a bitter smile, closed his eyes, and moved to place the pill into his mouth.
He had decided—he'd take it first.
If nothing went wrong, then Linghu Xiao could take it too.
If something did go wrong… well, then at least Linghu Xiao wouldn't suffer. He'd take the fall alone.
Linghu Xiao was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice.
But just as Ouyang Mu raised the pill to his lips, a familiar voice whispered:
"Idiot, don't eat that!"
Ouyang Mu froze, looking around in confusion—but there was no one nearby.
Linghu Xiao also blinked.
Both thought they were hallucinating.
"I… I think I just heard Little Senior Brother's voice…" Ouyang Mu murmured.
Linghu Xiao had heard it too, but wasn't sure what to believe.
Meanwhile, Song Jian—who had been slumped hopelessly in the corner—suddenly shot to his feet like a dog hearing its master's whistle.
But instead of hope, he was filled with rage.
That irritatingly crisp voice—he'd remember it even if it turned to ash!
Just as all three looked around in confusion, a voice said:
"Up here."
Ouyang Mu looked up—
On the stone ceiling of the prison, a young boy poked his head out.
Handsome like a painting, with eyes like starlight.
It was Mo Hua.
Ouyang Mu's jaw dropped. He even rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be dreaming.
"Little Senior Brother?! You got caught too?!"
Mo Hua was about to speak when suddenly—
"Awooo!" came a furious cry.
He turned and saw Song Jian, gritting his teeth:
"Mo—Hua—!!"
Before he could say anything else, Mo Hua casually pointed a finger—
Splash!
A Drowning Spell hit Song Jian in the face, sealing his mouth and nose.
Song Jian instantly started choking like he was drowning.
Mo Hua gave a "shh" and shot him a deadly glare:
"Make another sound—and you're dead."
"Understand?"
As the suffocation and pain brought him back to his senses, Song Jian realized where he was.
Rationality momentarily triumphed over old grudges.
He obediently nodded.
Only then did Mo Hua remove the spell.
At the same time, he rested his hand on his spirit sword—ready to strike if Song Jian got noisy again.
Song Jian felt a chill crawl up his spine and fell quiet instantly.
Mo Hua finally looked at Ouyang Mu and said:
"I sneaked in after you guys…"
Ouyang Mu's eyes widened in shock.
Even Linghu Xiao was speechless.
They didn't know where this place was exactly, but the thick demonic energy and beastly roars said enough.
This prison was extremely fortified—packed with demon beasts and demon cultivators.
And he snuck in?
"How… did you even manage that?" Linghu Xiao asked in a low voice.
Mo Hua waved his hand.
"Long story. No time now."
He pointed at the pills in their hands.
"Whatever you do—don't take that pill. It may look normal, but it's very dangerous."
Demon cultivators were never that kind.
From the scent, color, and composition, the pill looked perfect.
But Mo Hua could see something else—a faint, gray, decaying aura.
The karma of the dead.
This was a pill refined from human lives.
Its appearance could fool the senses—but not karma.
That was a whole different level of deception.
Ouyang Mu nodded with a half-understanding expression.
Mo Hua pulled out two pills and tossed them down from the ceiling—one each to Ouyang Mu and Linghu Xiao.
"Take these. Top-grade Tier Two Flesh-Regrowth and Bone-Knitting Pills."
The two of them examined the pills briefly, then swallowed them.
As soon as the pills entered their mouths, a surge of pure vitality flowed through their bodies. Their fingertips felt cool, itchy, and faintly painful.
Their severed pinkies began to regrow—flesh and bone slowly knitting back together.
The two exhaled in relief, inwardly full of gratitude.
Ouyang Mu then asked in confusion,
"Senior Brother Mo, how do you even have pills like this?"
Mo Hua replied,
"Essential medicine for travel. Never leave home without it."
(Also, these were all gifts from Aunt Wan. Didn't even cost him a spirit stone.)
After speaking, Mo Hua glanced sideways and saw Song Jian looking at him with big, hopeful eyes. Of the three, he was the only one who hadn't gotten a pill.
Mo Hua sighed and tossed one down to him too.
Song Jian's face instantly displayed a dramatic emotional tug-of-war:
One side screamed "I have dignity! I don't take handouts!"
The other side whispered, "A true man bends when he must."
His expression twisted back and forth so many times, even Mo Hua felt tired watching.
But in the end, Song Jian compromised.
He silently picked up the pill, shoved it into his mouth, and made a mental note:
"I've received a pill from Mo Hua… consider the 'sword-stealing' grudge resolved."
"But the rest—we still got scores to settle…"
Mo Hua ignored him completely. He turned instead to Linghu Xiao and Ouyang Mu:
"Try to protect yourselves. Watch out for the demons' sinister tricks. Don't practice their methods, don't take their pills, and don't believe a word they say."
"I'll think of a way to get you out."
He didn't say anything more.
Linghu Xiao could keep calm, but Ouyang Mu had no poker face.
Telling him too much might lead to unexpected trouble.
The two of them nodded solemnly. But when they looked up again—Mo Hua was gone.
Not a trace of his presence remained.
As if he had never been there.
Linghu Xiao and Ouyang Mu exchanged a glance, both stunned.
That kind of stealth technique… terrifying…
But oddly enough, they both felt their hearts settle.
The anxiety and panic they'd felt earlier had melted away.
Even though Mo Hua's cultivation wasn't higher than theirs, just seeing him somehow brought a sense of peace.
Meanwhile, off to the side, pretty-boy Song Jian still looked conflicted:
"If Mo Hua actually tries to save me… should I let him?"
"If I do… won't I owe him too big a favor?"
"Being saved by my archenemy Mo Hua… wouldn't that count as a humiliation of cosmic proportions?"
Meanwhile, Mo Hua was casually strolling through the prison.
Of course, he wanted to bust the boys out.
But truthfully… he had no good plan.
There were too many demon cultivators in this Myriad Demon Prison.
Even with sword control, his limited number of spirit swords couldn't kill many.
Array formations and Falling Meteor Art might work, but they left too much evidence—way too noisy.
And some of the demon cultivators here were genuinely powerful.
He couldn't beat them.
And this was only the prison.
The greater Myriad Demon Valley was crawling with even more of them.
Mo Hua sighed.
He circled the prison several more times. Still no clue.
Another hour passed.
So he sent a "Bingyin" transmission to Elder Xun.
Just as he was looking at his Great Void Token, he froze.
Signal's bad.
Which meant there was interference from flowing primordial magnetism.
In other words—there should be a Primordial Magnetic Array here.
But then— why hadn't he sensed any signs of one?
Frowning, Mo Hua continued his investigation.
Eventually, in a small corner of a stone wall, he noticed something off.
Once a patrolling demon passed by, Mo Hua took out a small blade and scraped away the dirt—uncovering a Primordial Magnetic array diagram hidden beneath.
It was a Primordial Magnetic Spirit-Sight Array.
A Seventeen-Rune Formation.
Mo Hua had long since obtained its diagram— back in the Bishan Demon Grotto, from that Primordial Magnetic Array Master he had exposed and then watched get ambushed to death by Uncle Gu and the two Gus.
Mo Hua had already mastered the array thoroughly.
But the one here in Myriad Demon Valley was broken. Completely unusable.
And someone had deliberately sealed it with dirt and stone.
Following the adjacent formation lines, Mo Hua soon found another similar array sealed up in a nearby wall.
Also broken.
Then, by tracing the links between array hubs, he found several more similar diagrams—
all defunct.
Mo Hua felt disappointed.
These weren't isolated arrays—they were clearly part of a larger array system with a unified hub.
If they hadn't been disabled, Mo Hua could have reverse-engineered the entire surveillance network and taken control of the prison's monitoring system.
"Why would anyone scrap such a good formation system?" he grumbled internally.
If not, his job would've been so much easier.
Now that the whole Primordial Magnetic Network was dead, it was useless to him.
He sighed and turned to leave.
But just as he turned—he paused again.
Then looked back at those array diagrams, eyebrows raising slightly.
"What if… I rebuild the Primordial Magnetic Spirit-Sight System for them?"
After all, he'd never had a chance to construct a full magnetic multi-array before.
Usually he lacked the conditions, or couldn't afford the materials, or didn't have access to a stable anchor medium.
Now, here in Myriad Demon Valley, he had a chance to practice for real.
Using the abandoned hubs as channels, and the discarded diagrams as base nodes, he could reconstruct a Primordial Magnetic Spirit-Sight Multi-Array.
And in doing so—deepen his mastery of magnetic formations.
"As a formation master, I should use every opportunity I can to study and apply array techniques!"
Mo Hua's eyes lit up. He nodded with conviction.
(End of Chapter)