“Intruders!”
Scarface roared furiously, pulling out a black chain and hurling it viciously towards the direction where Hu Mazi was hiding.
The chain was fitted with barbs and wrapped in black mist. Once entangled, even a soul spirit would be sucked away, leading to an outcome far more terrifying than death.
Hu Mazi dared not linger in battle and turned to flee.
But the white-robed cultivator was incredibly swift. Sword light continuously flashed from the long sword in his hand, shooting towards Hu Mazi like golden meteors and forcing him to dodge repeatedly.
Each dodge placed him in dire peril, with several gashes torn in his clothes by the sword qi.
“Catch him! Don’t let him escape!”
Scarface charged forward with his subordinates, the black chain weaving a large net in the air that descended upon Hu Mazi. The chain emitted a nauseating aura, as if it were shackles from the depths of hell.
Hu Mazi pulled out a talisman and threw it unhesitatingly to the ground. A golden flame erupted instantly, its scorching heat distorting the surrounding air.
The flames raged like an enraged beast, repelling the pursuers.
Seizing the moment, Hu Mazi darted into a narrow alley. The alley was even tighter, with walls almost touching, so he had to sidle through quickly.
But after just a few steps, he collided with someone.
“Brother, what is all this frantic rushing about?”
The man wore a coarse cloth robe and bore a gentle smile on his face, appearing like an ordinary passer-by.
Yet Hu Mazi sensed a familiar aura from him, one unique to the temple!
Hu Mazi’s heart jolted in alarm, and he turned to run.
The man, however, reached out and pressed his shoulder, his smile turning icy cold in an instant: “Since you’ve come, stay and tell us what you’ve overheard.”
Hu Mazi felt a numbness in his shoulder as a strange force burrowed into his body along it, suppressing his cultivation.
His body felt as if crushed by a great mountain, rendering him immobile. Scarface and the white-robed cultivator also caught up, surrounding him completely.
“So you’re a rogue cultivator, bold enough to spy on our temple’s affairs?”
The white-robed cultivator pointed his sword at Hu Mazi’s throat, the tip gleaming with chilling light as if poised to pierce it at any moment. “Speak! Who do you work for? Why sneak around prying into our temple’s matters?”
Hu Mazi clenched his teeth, refusing to speak.
He knew that revealing the truth would not only doom him but lead to an even more gruesome end.
Seeing this, Scarface drew a black dagger, its blade etched with dark red patterns that writhed like living things.
“Won’t talk? Then don’t blame us for using the ‘Soul-Devouring Dagger’ and letting you savour the agony of your soul being peeled away bit by bit!”
Scarface snarled viciously, waving the dagger before Hu Mazi’s eyes. The icy blade made Hu Mazi’s scalp tingle.
The cold gleam of the Soul-Devouring Dagger hovered just three inches from Hu Mazi’s brow, its sharp edge seeming capable of piercing straight through his soul.
He could even distinctly feel the yin-cold aura of soul-devouring emanating from the dagger, like a ferocious beast lurking in the darkness, ready to devour him at any time.
The hairs all over his body stood on end, each one sending signals of terror.
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, as if about to burst forth, each beat laced with dread of death.
In this moment of utmost peril, a streak of golden light suddenly shot from the alley’s entrance, exploding like thunder in the silent air and striking Scarface’s wrist with precision.
“Crack!”
A crisp sound of bone breaking rang out, sharp and piercing, like the toll of the death god’s bell.
The Soul-Devouring Dagger slipped from Scarface’s grasp and clattered to the ground with a resounding clang, sounding particularly jarring in the tense atmosphere.
