Immortality Through Array Formations

Chapter 2476: Chapter 12: Elimination of Witnesses_3

The Camp Leader frowned and shouted again, "Where’s the lookout? Stop just drinking, you idiots, the posts need to be manned. What if there’s a damn enemy attack?"

"Camp Leader, you’re joking, who would dare to come..."

"Shut up," the Camp Leader cursed harshly, "damn it, go check if anyone’s slacking off."

The bandit, reluctantly, put down his wine cup and walked out of the camp.

Once he left, he never returned.

A full 30 minutes passed, and the surroundings remained eerily silent.

The Camp Leader sensed that something was wrong.

The originally intoxicated crowd felt a chill in their hearts, sobering up slightly.

"Where are the people?"

The Camp Leader pointed out two more people and ordered, "You two, go check outside."

The two men were unwilling, but faced with the fierce expression of the Camp Leader, they didn’t dare refuse.

They drew their knives, their legs somewhat weak, crouched down, sweating coldly, they cautiously walked out.

Outside, it was pitch black, where one couldn’t see past their fingers.

Suddenly, a scarlet flame sparked.

And then everything returned to darkness.

The boundless darkness swallowed everything, including the lives of those two bandit cultivators. They didn’t even have time to let out a scream before perishing.

The hall shook, an uproar erupted everywhere.

The Camp Leader’s face also changed drastically.

"Who?!"

But in the darkness, no one responded.

At this moment, the hall still had nearly a hundred bandits who drew their swords and formed a line, eyes ferocious, ready for battle.

"Damn it, who the hell is it? Got the guts of a bear!"

Someone cursed angrily, and in the next instant, a fireball shot through, as brutal flames emaciated him, skin and bone alike.

"Fireball!"

"Is it the Fireball Technique?!"

"Whose Fireball Technique is this? How can it be so terrifying?!"

Before the words fell completely, another scarlet fireball flew from the darkness.

This time, the fireball didn’t kill just one person but penetrated straight through three.

The first bandit was incinerated, then the flame passed through his body, the residual power cremating the second bandit, and pierced through the chest of the third bandit before the flames finally dissipated.

The bandits were petrified.

They were terrified of the fireball technique’s power.

Even more terrifying was that, thus far, they still had no idea who was using the fireball technique to kill!

Soon, several more fireballs flew in.

Incredibly fast, incredibly accurate, incredibly vicious, like fiery artillery shells exploding among the crowd, scorching magma reduced the bandits to nothing but bones.

And in the darkness, a fierce and malicious aura of a shadow faintly appeared.

Like the demon from hell, releasing terrifying karmic flames, reaping their lives.

"A ghost...it’s a ghost!"

"If you don’t run, you will die!"

A bandit fell into terror, lost his mind, and immediately screamed sharply, fleeing outward.

His escape caused immediate disorder, inciting panic among the bandits, who scattered and fled.

The Camp Leader instantly grabbed a bandit, snapped his neck, and roared, "No running! Those fleeing the battlefield will die!"

But his threats had no effect.

Compared to being killed by him, clearly dying in "hell’s karmic fire" was even more terrifying.

Nearly a hundred bandits fled like birds and beasts, seeking gaps around the wooden hall to escape.

But suddenly, five-colored lights lit up.

The ground revealed mottled patterns, formations appeared.

Some bandits were sliced into meat by golden light; others were burned to ashes by ground fire; some were drowned alive by water prison; others were buried by quicksand or strangled by vines...

"It’s a formation?!"

"The hall is sealed by formations!"

Fear spread even further.

Bandits began trampling on each other, and some lost sanity, began killing each other unable to see the enemy.

The Camp Leader shouted orders, but amid the chaotic frenzy, no one listened to him.

Formation slaughtering, fireball incineration.

Quickly, the hall was entirely slaughtered of bandits.

The Camp Leader looked at it all, face contorted, heart both pained and hateful.

These were his brothers, his foundation years in the making, now all perished in the time taken for a drink.

Hatred consumed his heart.

But he hadn’t lost his reason; as long as he was alive, he could rebuild, recruit new "brothers." Though the camp was destroyed, he could rise again, eventually.

Blood flowed everywhere, corpses strewn across the hall.

"Senior..."

Scarface Camp Leader, standing among the corpses, bowed to the darkness, "Let’s talk..."

He knew this was no ghost but a cultivator’s doing.

And a senior cultivator with formidable power.

"Junior believes, I haven’t offended you..."

No one spoke from the darkness.

The Camp Leader swallowed his spit and said solemnly:

"You name your terms, whatever you want, Spirit Stones? Treasure? Women? I can rob them for you..."

"Whatever you want to do, I can do it for you."

"If you want this camp, I can give it to you..."

But still, there was no response from the darkness. The Camp Leader unleashed his Divine Sense, desperately trying to scout but couldn’t find any trace.

He gripped his knife tightly, knelt on the ground, knocked the floor three times, and looked up:

"Senior, say a word, even if you don’t spare me, at least let me die with clarity."

"Let me know why I’m dying..."

Suddenly, the Camp Leader was enlightened, "Could you be...doing justice..."

He hurriedly kowtowed twice more, his expression bitter:

"It’s no secret, I have my grievances for doing this..."

"This small realm around the state boundary is poor and desolate, Tao Cultivation resources are scarce. I have no other route in seeking the Dao, so I took risks, became a bandit, living off robbing cultivators."

"This era has no sense of morality. The damned aristocratic families exploit without restraint, the corrupt Taoist Court is incompetent across the lands, excessive taxation suffocates the people..."

"We loose cultivators, endure arduous Tao cultivation, even surviving is a luxury."

"Without resorting to this, there’s no chance of advancement, not to mention Foundation Establishment, even reaching Qi Refining Ninth Level is incredibly tough..."

In the darkness, the shadow seemed to hesitate.

"You..."

It was a youthful voice, slightly clear.

But Scarface Camp Leader couldn’t concern himself with any of it.

At the instant the voice sounded, he utilized his lifelong skill, quickly listening and locating the voice’s source within the darkness.

It was the center of the hall, empty and hollow.

His Divine Sense couldn’t sense it, his eyes couldn’t see it.

But his ears told him, the person must be there.

The Camp Leader’s Qi Sea was already charged, bloodstained blade instantly infused with evil power, he slashed red light towards the voice’s location without warning.

Cultivators die often from talking too much in fights.

He had used this move many times, almost always able to kill strong enemies.

Before his blow struck, the air suddenly conjured light blue water chains that bound his joints tightly, accompanied by a suffocating drowning sensation.

"What Technique is this?!"

The Camp Leader widened his eyes, then saw a figure slowly emerge from the darkness.

Upon seeing the figure clearly, he was shocked, disbelief filling his face.

Too young!

Pale and tender, handsome and weak-looking, seemingly not even twenty years old.

And it was this person, who single-handedly slaughtered his hundred brothers?!

And his cultivation, could it be...

Foundation Establishment Late Stage?!

The Camp Leader felt like he was in an ice cellar, trembling all over, wanting to plead for mercy, but the Water Prison Technique had already sealed his mouth.

Mo Hua walked up to him, stretched out his pale finger, pointed at his forehead, and coldly said:

"Aristocratic family exploitation, Taoist Court corruption, loose cultivators struggling..."

"But you’re born a loose cultivator, and the ones you killed were all loose cultivators..."

The Camp Leader’s pupils constricted.

Mo Hua’s fingertip flickered with fire.

With a "boom," flames raged, the demonic power of blazing fire roared out, directly blowing the Camp Leader’s head to black ash.