Lin Feng's chest heaved violently, each breath like the wheeze of a worn-out bellows.
Yet he paid no heed to his body's weakness, only fixing those bloodshot eyes on the seemingly bedraggled branch family youth before him.
The expression in those eyes was complex beyond measure—shock, suspicion, and a deep thread of wariness.
That moment of coordination just now: first using Dust Escape to clear the poison and create an opening, then using blood scent to pinpoint the killing strike's target.
Either move had been executed with precision down to the finest margin. This was absolutely not something a typically meek and subservient Rank 1 branch family member could accomplish.
This person... is unfathomable.
Waves of shock crashed through Lin Feng's mind. His hand unconsciously stroked the sword hilt, his knuckles whitening from the pressure, nails digging deep into the leather.
Kill him?
If he acted now, while no one else was around, he could completely bury all of today's secrets. He could also conveniently reclaim those "unreasonable" trump cards Lin Mu possessed and eliminate a potential threat.
Though his sword had fallen to the ground, he still had a backup dagger in his robes. In his current state—an arrow at the end of its flight but still carrying momentum—a sudden strike wasn't without chance of success.
But the moment this thought surfaced, Lin Feng himself extinguished it under the weight of rational calculation.
Ah Zhong was dead. His most loyal shield had shattered. The number of people in the clan who belonged to him had always been few, and now he was in an unprecedented vacuum.
On this perilous battlefield, a blade that handled well and cut sharply was more important than anything else.
Moreover, what lay buried in that deep pit wasn't just an enemy—it was ironclad proof of White Bone Stronghold's collusion with the demonic path.
This heaven-sent achievement might not be something he could swallow alone. He needed someone to share the burden, to help corroborate the story, to make the narrative airtight.
This person is useful, and must be used.
Lin Feng slowly released the sword hilt. But he didn't speak immediately. Instead, he dismissed the still-dazed Lin Wan'er nearby, sending her to stand guard at a distance and tend to her own wounds.
The two were alone. The air seemed to solidify, the atmosphere suffocatingly delicate.
"Lin Mu."
Lin Feng walked up to Lin Mu, his voice hoarse yet cutting straight to the heart like a sharp scalpel:
"That move you just used... the Primeval Essence consumption was enormous."
"With your current strength, even if you squeezed your aperture completely dry, you couldn't have sustained that kind of burst."
This was both a probe and a laying of cards on the table.
If Lin Mu couldn't provide a reasonable explanation that would put his mind at ease, this fragile trust just established could collapse at any moment.
Lin Feng would never tolerate an uncontrollable variable remaining at his side.
Faced with this soul-piercing question, Lin Mu showed no panic, nor did he attempt to cover up with clumsy lies.
Lying to a clever person would be an insult to Lin Feng's intelligence—and a path to his own death.
He let out a bitter laugh, seeming to wince slightly as the movement tugged at his wounds, his face showing a mix of helplessness and candor.
"Young Master's eyes are as sharp as torches. Nothing escapes your notice."
Lin Mu reached into his robes, actually summoning from the depths of his aperture that precious companion that had always stayed by his side.
He opened his palm. There, unmistakably, lay a peculiar Gu worm.
It was a plump, white larva, now listless from overexertion, sprawled in his blood-stained palm and giving off a faint, intoxicating aroma of wine.
"I was lucky—obtained it through a chance encounter. It's only by having it refine Primeval Essence day and night that I've barely been able to keep pace with Young Master and not become a burden."
Lin Mu's voice was sincere and humble, his posture lowered.
Lin Feng's pupils contracted sharply.
He stared fixedly at that worm for a long moment before his tense shoulders finally relaxed slightly, and he let out a long, turbid breath.
"A Liquor Worm? That explains it..."
The great stone in his heart finally settled. All the irregularities now had a perfectly reasonable explanation.
So it was this rare worm assisting him—no wonder his Primeval Essence was so refined, no wonder he could sustain such high-intensity bursts.
Though precious, in the eyes of someone like Lin Feng—a direct descendant who had seen the world and had abundant resources—the Liquor Worm was merely "rare." It was far from reaching the level of forbidden treasure that would necessitate killing and seizing.
Most importantly, there was Lin Mu's attitude.
He hadn't hidden it or tucked it away. Instead, he had voluntarily revealed his greatest trump card.
This was a display of submission—a certificate of allegiance that said I'm placing my leverage in your hands; you now know all my secrets.
"You certainly have good fortune, stumbling upon such a premium cultivation aid."
Lin Feng gave Lin Mu a deep look. He didn't reach out to take the Liquor Worm. Instead, he extended his hand to help Lin Mu close his palm, suppressing any hint of covetousness.
"Take good care of it. These things are delicate. When you reach Rank 2, if you're short on materials for refinement, come find me."
With those words, the pact was sealed.
Lin Mu felt a slight easing in his heart. He smoothly put away the Liquor Worm and bowed respectfully, his tone even more deferential:
"Thank you, Young Master, for your patronage."
Having resolved the internal trust crisis, both pairs of eyes turned simultaneously toward that massive, charred pit.
"Who would have thought White Bone Stronghold was so vicious—willing to invest such heavy resources just for me."
Lin Feng thought back to their earlier predicament and still felt lingering fear.
If he hadn't specifically brought Ah Zhong, that Rank 2 expert, to guard him in advance, he probably wouldn't have even needed Green Snake to act personally—the underground assassin alone would have been enough to end his life right here.
"This is ironclad proof of White Bone Stronghold colluding with the demonic path."
Lin Feng pointed at those few broken metal fragments at the bottom of the pit—symbols of Green Snake's identity—his tone turning icy cold.
"With this, the clan can seize the moral high ground. We can even seek support from the Righteous Path Alliance and call for a reckoning against White Bone Stronghold."
"Young Master is brilliant."
Lin Mu understood immediately and followed up:
"This battle was won entirely through Young Master's strategic planning, using yourself as bait, and ultimately deploying a Rank 3 trump card to slay the demonic leader, turning the tide at the crucial moment."
Lin Feng turned his head, looking at this person who understood everything with just a hint, and finally allowed a genuine smile to touch the corner of his lips.
This was the pleasure of working with clever people.
No need for lengthy explanations—he naturally knew how to help you construct the narrative, how to build momentum for you, even how to make black appear white.
"There's still one more person."
Their discussion complete, both pairs of eyes turned toward Lin Wan'er in the distance, who had just recovered her senses and was gazing this way with a bewildered expression.
She was the only witness, and the greatest variable in this story.
Lin Feng straightened his disheveled armor and wiped the blood from his face before striding over.
His tone was gentle, even carrying a note of concern, but his eyes were exceptionally resolute, radiating an unquestionable pressure.
"Wan'er, were you frightened just now?"
Lin Wan'er looked at this blood-soaked yet still-standing man before her. Her eyes were full of post-catastrophe dependence and admiration. Though still somewhat shaken, her emotions had largely settled.
"Young Master Feng..."
"Don't be afraid. It's all over now."
Lin Feng gently patted her shoulder. There was no threat in his manner—he simply spoke as though stating facts, his voice measured and calm:
"This battle was too brutal. If Lin Tong hadn't been greedy for glory and recklessly advanced against orders, ultimately getting killed by the demonic leader, we wouldn't have fallen into such dire straits."
"And Uncle Zhong, in order to save me, perished together with that demon in a heroic sacrifice."
Lin Feng adopted an expression of deep grief and sighed:
"Fortunately, the three of us fought back desperately and barely survived with our lives, preserving the clan's honor. Wan'er, we must avenge Brother Lin Tong and Uncle Zhong."
Lin Wan'er froze for a moment.
She instinctively glanced at the pool of Lin Tong's blood not far away, red to the point of being blinding.
Then she looked at Lin Mu standing behind Lin Feng, silent as a shadow, his body still carrying a faint trace of undissipated killing intent.
As a clever woman raised by the clan's neutral faction, though she wasn't skilled in combat, that didn't mean she was ignorant of human affairs.
Lin Tong's death was suspicious. Ah Zhong's death was heroic. Behind all of this, there seemed to be secrets that could not be spoken.
But that look, that tone of voice—they made her instantly understand what should be said and what should not.
"Yes..."
Lin Wan'er's voice trembled slightly, but quickly became resolute. She knew this was the only correct answer.
"If not for Young Master Feng protecting us at the cost of his life, none of us would have made it back. Uncle Zhong was... a loyal servant. Lin Tong... brought it upon himself."
"Very good."
Lin Feng nodded, now free of any lingering concerns.
"Clean up. We're heading back to the stronghold."
The three began to clear the battlefield.
Lin Feng collected Green Snake's remaining tokens and Gu worms as evidence. Lin Mu skillfully erased the traces Lin Tong had left behind, ensuring no flaws remained. Lin Wan'er handled simple medical treatment and bandaging.
The setting sun painted this blood-soaked jungle in even more tragic and vivid hues.
The three supported each other as they walked toward Black Blood Stronghold.
Their shadows stretched long behind them on the earth, intertwining together like an inseparable whole.
And behind them, a battle report destined to shake all of Black Blood Stronghold had already been given its tone in that silent understanding:
Lin Tong: glory-seeking and reckless, death well-deserved.
Ah Zhong: loyal soul protecting his master, a true family death soldier.
Lin Feng: young hero, both wise and brave.
Lin Mu: loyal and courageous in protecting his lord, a blessing in human form.
Everyone received the "persona" they wanted—except for those poor souls already dead beyond all dying.