Chapter Sixty-One: Breaking the Spell

At this point, Wu Luohua solemnly reached into his jade pouch and carefully produced a small transparent bottle. With a soft sound, he let a single drop fall onto Gan Sen’s face. Instantly, the features began to shift, and before long, the weary countenance of a young nobleman emerged—Gan Sen’s aged appearance vanished without a trace.

“It’s Yong’er, my poor child!” the old man cried, throwing himself forward in a storm of tears.

With a rustling sound, the true face of “Young Master Deng” was finally revealed—a face as smooth and delicate as a newborn’s, defying all imagination that this man could be nearing fifty. He was none other than the infamous Ru Mo, one of the Nine Great Demon Gods, now appearing in his true form. “You deserve to die, all of you—for ruining my plans,” he hissed, his voice so unnatural it sent chills through everyone present.

“Heaven may forgive the sins it sends, but self-wrought evil is inescapable. Ru Mo, you should have died twenty years ago—those extra years were already stolen. Rather than repent, you’ve committed new, monstrous crimes,” Wu Luohua said coldly.

As she spoke, Ru Mo let out a shrill, piercing cry, and a surge of yellow spiritual energy burst from within him.

With a thunderous boom, an even greater wave of spiritual power swept from Mo Bai’s hand, clashing violently with Ru Mo’s yellow aura. Yet Mo Bai’s energy shielded the surrounding neighbors, as he said calmly, “Mr. Jun, please protect these people—I’ll force him out.” With that, he transformed into a blue streak of light, hurtling straight toward Ru Mo.

Ru Mo saw a flash before his eyes and felt his heart jolt with terror. Mo Bai’s speed rivaled that of Flying Demon, another of the Nine Demon Gods. Sweat broke out on Ru Mo’s brow. Suddenly, a brilliant light flashed—spiritual energy shaped into a sword, not a physical blade but a weapon conjured from pure spirit.

Ru Mo cursed inwardly and tried to dodge, but found himself surrounded, every path blocked by Mo Bai’s spiritual power. Only the rear remained open. Stepping swiftly backward using Spirit Step, Ru Mo was driven by a single move from Mo Bai out of the Gan family’s grand hall.

“Well, boy, you still have a Buddha’s heart. Good! Without those meddlesome mortals, let your Grandpa Ru Mo teach you a lesson.” Though Mo Bai’s energy still encircled him, Ru Mo’s words lost none of their bluster.

The two men soared through the air, finally descending upon an open field. Mo Bai smiled faintly. “I wonder, Ru Mo, after years in hiding, how much of your spiritual power remains? Are you still worthy of being one of the Nine Demon Gods?”

Ru Mo sneered, “Hmph! Boy, even if you started cultivating in the womb, how much time could you have had? Compared to your Grandpa Ru Mo, you’re far too green.”

Mo Bai folded his arms and responded, “Haven’t you heard, Ru Mo? ‘A strong fist fears the young.’”

Ru Mo shot back, “And don’t you know, ‘Old ginger is spicier than fresh’?”

Mo Bai laughed heartily. “No matter how old, ginger is just a seasoning—and it so happens I know how to make a feast out of old ginger.”

“You’re courting death!” Ru Mo shouted, conjuring a yellow stream of spiritual energy in his palm and hurling it at Mo Bai.

“Xuanhuang Spirit Energy? Hmph, but your cultivation isn’t orthodox,” Mo Bai instantly exposed Ru Mo’s lineage.

“Try it for yourself.” Ru Mo’s hands danced rapidly, sending four or five blades of Xuanhuang spirit energy slicing toward Mo Bai’s vital points.

Mo Bai calmly raised a spirit shield, easily deflecting the attack. “If Ru Mo is satisfied, then it’s my turn,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he launched himself like a great roc, spinning a massive sphere of spiritual power in his hands. The sphere hummed ominously, threatening to sweep the world away if not for Mo Bai’s control.

“G-grand Jade Spiral Technique! You’re from the Cloud Sky Sect!” Ru Mo gasped in shock.

Mo Bai laughed. “I haven’t the fortune to belong to such a sect.” With a flick, he sent the Jade Spiral hurtling toward Ru Mo like a meteor.

Ru Mo trembled, desperately summoning a spirit shield. A deafening crash followed as Mo Bai’s attack shattered the yellow shield. Ru Mo was sent flying a dozen yards, spitting blood in despair.

Suddenly, a pale blue figure appeared before him, wearing a charming smile. Mo Bai looked down and said, “Ru Mo, will you come quietly to offer yourself before the spirits of the Gan family’s ancestors, or must I drag you?”

“Hmph, boy, don’t be so naive.” Ru Mo’s face twisted, and a strange, formless “mask” shot from his face toward Mo Bai’s chest. That was Ru Mo’s weapon—his true face hidden behind a shifting mask. Only now, as he attacked, did his real, hideous visage appear, but no one cared to look.

Ru Mo let out a sinister laugh. “You’re still too young to know what it means to feign weakness.” But his laughter abruptly stopped, for before him was that smiling face again—the one he loathed most of all. “You—you were struck by my Phantom Demon Mask! How are you unharmed? Impossible!” he screamed in terror.

Mo Bai rose slowly, a blue spirit shield rippling across his chest—demonic yet pure.

“If I wasn’t prepared, would I have approached you so easily? Ru Mo, your face may change in a thousand ways, but without a heart that understands change, you could never master such transformations,” Mo Bai said. “My Jade Spiral Technique was never at full strength; I held back to give you a chance to kneel before the Gan ancestors and end your life yourself. It could never have left you spitting blood—your acting is far too poor. Had you only coughed up a little blood, perhaps I’d have been fooled. Blood is not meant to be spewed so freely.”

Ru Mo suddenly felt the world spinning—perhaps angered by Mo Bai, or perhaps weakened by the blood he had forced up. “You’re so furious, you can’t even speak,” Mo Bai said, advancing step by step. “Face justice.”

But just then, Ru Mo’s barely moving lips flickered, and a transparent needle shot from his mouth straight for Mo Bai’s throat. Mockery flashed again in Ru Mo’s eyes.

“You truly seek death,” Mo Bai said. The scar above his left brow twitched imperceptibly, and a torrent of spiritual energy gathered around him. Ru Mo watched as his transparent needle was snatched and spun in Mo Bai’s hand, its form revealed by the spiritual aura. “You are worthy of being named alongside Flying Demon, but even your final move is the same—and far less pure in execution.”

“Flying Demon—where is he? What have you done to him?” Ru Mo shrieked in agony.

“You can ask him yourself,” Mo Bai said, giving a flick of his wrist before turning away. Facing the approaching Wu Luohua, Nalan Xin’er, and the Gan siblings, he said, “Forgive me. He brought this upon himself—there was nothing I could do.” No sooner had Mo Bai spoken than Ru Mo collapsed to the ground, clutching his throat.

With a thud, Gan Yu fell to her knees, weeping. “Thank you, Sir Mo, for avenging my brother and me.”

Mo Bai released a wave of spiritual energy to lift her up. “Don’t thank me—thank yourself, and him,” he said, pointing to Wu Luohua.

PS: The new book phase is over—a new journey begins. July, please add to your collections!