After the great battle, only ruins and rubble remained.
Luo Yu held his Spirit Sword, looking down from above at this devastated land beneath his feet. The spirit fields on Qingmu Town's outskirts were completely destroyed, the ground corroded with pits and holes, surviving mortals and low-rank cultivators lying in ruins wailing, the air filled with suffocating blood scent and corpse poison.
"Master has left, and I still have to clean up this mess."
Luo Yu frowned slightly, a trace of impatience flashing in his eyes, but more so a sense of duty.
This was after all Azure Cloud Sect's territory, these mortals were the sect's "private property"—if they all died, who would plant next year's spirit grain?
"Go."
He flicked his wrist, the Spirit Sword carving a mysterious trajectory through the air.
No sharp sword Qi—instead, a gentle, pale-green light rain descended like sweet dew from the sky, covering all of Qingmu Town's ruins.
Spell: [ Spring Revival Sweet Dew ]
"Sizzle sizzle sizzle—"
The light rain falling on land blackened by demonic blood corruption released wisps of white smoke, rapidly purifying the spreading toxins.
Falling on those injured mortals, though unable to regenerate severed limbs, it at least stopped the bleeding and eased that bone-piercing agony.
"The Immortal Master has shown mercy!"
"Thank you, Immortal Master, for saving our lives!"
In the ruins, countless mortals, ignoring their bodily wounds, knelt in muddy water kowtowing toward the sky, deeply grateful. In their eyes, this was nothing short of a miracle.
But in a corner, Mo Fan hiding behind a ruined wall saw clearly.
Those eyes held not a trace of compassion, only a coldness and matter-of-factness like repairing one's own damaged fence.
"Can't avoid this anymore."
Sensing that Divine Sense wave gradually sweeping over, Mo Fan took a deep breath.
Under this Foundation Establishment cultivator's carpet search, continuing to hide would only seem more suspicious. Rather than being dragged out like a rat, better to voluntarily appear and perhaps gain a "survivor" identity.
He quickly checked his condition: Mo Yan and Summon No. 003 had long been sealed by the System in deep hibernation within his storage pouch's depths, not leaking even a trace of death Qi; he himself was covered in blood and dirt, clothes tattered, gripping tightly the dagger used to cut rat tails.
Mo Fan suddenly pushed away the rubble covering him, scrambling out from the ruins looking disheveled.
Almost the instant he appeared, a sharp Divine Sense locked onto this location.
"Hmm?"
Luo Yu in mid-air focused his gaze, form unmoving, but that terrifying pressure belonging to late Foundation Establishment already pressed down like a mountain.
"Urgh!"
Mo Fan only felt his body sink, legs naturally giving way as he knelt on the ground. He gasped for breath, eyes filled with terror, confusion, and the relief of surviving disaster—perfectly portraying a low-level rogue cultivator's awe when encountering an important figure.
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
Luo Yu's voice was cold, carrying unquestionable authority.
"In... in response to the Immortal Master!"
Mo Fan tremblingly reached into his robe, pulling out a mission token covered in dust and bloodstains, along with a bulging, still-dripping burlap sack.
"This... this humble one accepted a sect bounty, came here to clear the rat plague as a body cultivator."
He raised the token, voice trembling with fear, "This humble one had just killed half of them when... when the sky fell. This humble one was lucky, hiding in the inn's corner, blocked by a collapsed beam—that's how I survived..."
Luo Yu grabbed through the void, that token flying into his hand.
It was genuine.
He glanced again at Mo Fan kneeling on the ground.
Dark complexion, solid muscles, Qi and blood somewhat depleted but indeed showing traces of practicing Iron Bone Art, that common body cultivation technique.
Most importantly, this person's body was completely empty, without any spiritual power fluctuations, much less any trace of demonic Qi.
Just a pure laborer with explosive luck.
The wariness in Luo Yu's eyes disappeared, replaced by a lofty indifference. For this kind of ant, he had no interest in even asking another question.
"Since you worked for the sect and survived this great calamity, it's your fortune."
Luo Yu casually tossed the mission token back.
Following that, perhaps in a good mood, or perhaps to demonstrate the great sect's magnanimity, he flicked his finger, sending a blue jade tablet carved with cloud patterns arcing through the air, landing in the dust before Mo Fan.
"Take this token to complete your mission. Receive an extra 20 low-grade Spirit Stones, as the sect's compensation for you."
After speaking, he couldn't even be bothered to look at Mo Fan again.
With a sleeve wave, that broken [ Blood River Banner ] that had lost its master was swept into his sleeve—this was his true purpose in cleaning the battlefield. Though damaged, this demonic magic treasure had precious materials, and bringing it back would be a great merit.
Having done all this, Luo Yu walked on empty air, transforming into a flowing light, vanishing into the horizon in an instant, leaving only a city full of kowtowing mortals.
"Phew..."
Not until that flowing light completely disappeared did Mo Fan's taut spine suddenly relax.
He slumped to the ground, back already soaked in cold sweat.
If Luo Yu had looked even once more, or on a whim searched his body, the skeletons in his storage pouch would have been exposed. At that time, even with a hundred mouths he couldn't explain clearly.
"20 Spirit Stones... blood money?"
Mo Fan picked up the jade tablet still carrying residual warmth, lips curling in a self-mocking smile.
In these important figures' eyes, mortal lives were probably only worth this price.
He didn't linger long in the ruins. Though knowing there might still be many good things buried here, that terror of life and death beyond his control made him not want to stay even a moment longer.
Bearing his wounded body, Mo Fan found the temporary mission handover point set up on the town's other side.
Half the building here had collapsed, the steward in charge of registration just climbing out from under a table covered in dust. Seeing Mo Fan approach carrying two large sacks, his eyeballs nearly popped out.
"You... you're still alive?!"
The steward had witnessed with his own eyes the inn area being razed to the ground by aftershock waves.
"Good luck."
Mo Fan didn't waste words, directly slapping that sack of rat tails along with the cloud-patterned jade tablet Luo Yu had given him heavily onto the half-remaining table.
"Completing mission."
The steward was originally somewhat impatient, but when he clearly saw the cloud pattern on that jade tablet, his expression instantly changed.
That wasn't just a jade tablet—it was a personal disciple's token! Seeing the token was like seeing the person!
"This... this is Personal Disciple Luo's token?"
The steward suddenly straightened his body, his attitude toward Mo Fan instantly becoming incredibly respectful—even though Mo Fan looked like a beggar.
"Brother, this is truly a blessing in disguise! Being recognized by Personal Disciple Luo, your future prospects are limitless!"
While speaking flatteringly, the steward nimbly calculated Mo Fan's settlement.
"Forty-five rat tails total, worth 20 and a half Spirit Stones. Plus Personal Disciple's 20 compensation stones..."
"42 and a half total."
The steward didn't even dare round down, instead reaching into his own pocket to make it 43 whole stones, presenting them with both hands to Mo Fan.
Mo Fan accepted the Spirit Stones without saying much, only nodding before turning to leave.
The setting sun dyed the mountain road back to the sect blood red.
Mo Fan walked alone on the winding mountain path, his shadow stretching long and far.
The Spirit Stones in his robe were heavy—this was a huge sum. Combined with previous savings, his worth had again reached nearly fifty Spirit Stones. Before long, he could buy that Body Forging Record, and even exchange a few better bones for Summon No. 003.
But his heart held not the slightest joy of surviving disaster.
In his mind, images kept replaying like slides: Liu Yun's sword severing space, Luo Yu casually clearing the screen, and that blood-colored python that nearly devoured everything.
"Too weak."
Mo Fan touched the cold jade tablet in his robe, fingers white with pressure.
He survived today not because he was clever, nor because his acting was good.
Purely because he was too weak.
So weak he wasn't even worth casually crushing.
If that demonic cultivator had been slightly more insane today, or if that Luo Yu had arrived slightly later, he would now be just another charred corpse in the ruins.
"I don't want to be this kind of ant that can be casually bestowed upon or trampled to death at any moment."
In the distance, Azure Cloud Sect's main peak stood majestically in the twilight, like an unreachable deity.
Mo Fan stopped, raising his head to gaze at that mountain peak.
"Someday..."
He took a deep breath, the exhaustion and smoothness in his eyes gradually dissipating, replaced by a wolf-like ferocity.
"I too will stand in the heavens."