However, her reckless and large-scale slaughter finally acted like a giant boulder thrown into stagnant water, alarming the remaining red-name mages in this forest.
“How strange. Isn’t this forest a little too quiet?”
A Level 49 Witch leaned against a moss-covered boulder, raising an eyebrow as she spoke. She wore a magic robe embroidered with dark purple thorn patterns. The collar was open, revealing a hideous scar across her collarbone.
It was a medal left behind from when she had slaughtered an entire family in her early years.
Though she had beautiful eyes, her gaze was as sinister as a poisoned dagger. Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the skull pendant hanging from her waist—the skull of an enemy she once hated most.
*Gurgle…*
A dark shadow flashed like a ghost, bringing a gust of violent wind as a werewolf Wizard landed steadily beside her. He had coarse, grayish-black fur covered in dried blood scabs. His appearance, with a human body and a wolf’s head, was exceptionally terrifying.
His amber beast-like pupils were filled with violence. The sharp claws on both hands glinted with a cold light, bits of shredded meat still hanging from his fingertips. Dark red blood leaked from the corners of his mouth, and saliva dripped down his fangs as he spoke.
“I saw the corpses of several idiots who came with us. They were beaten beyond recognition, their bones crushed to dust and even their souls shattered. If I hadn’t recognized their unique scents, I probably wouldn’t have been able to identify them at all.”
“And who are you?” The Witch frowned, looking the werewolf up and down. He felt somewhat familiar, yet she couldn’t recall his name.
After all, among the pile of death row inmates, there were too many who looked fierce, but few who survived.
“I am the most loyal believer of the God of Stillness. You might have heard my name—Gluttonous Fang.”
The werewolf suddenly opened his mouth, revealing a row of neat, sharp teeth. He grinned savagely, his breath reeking of blood.
“Back then, I was the one who bathed the rural branch of the Soul Church in blood and ate three bishops alive.”
“Oh, I remember now.” The Witch smiled faintly and shifted her body to sit on a nearby rock, her tone carrying unabashed mockery. “I heard you betrayed your faith? A stray dog abandoned by the God of Stillness.”
“Bullshit!” the werewolf immediately hissed. His grayish-black fur stood on end, a flash of madness crossing his eyes. His sharp claws slammed into the ground, carving three deep grooves.
“It was that group of stubborn, ignorant fools who misunderstood my God’s will! How could those wastes understand the will of a God? As His most loyal believer, I must carry on His will! I will shroud the world in that Lord’s shadow; I will make everyone tremble at the mention of our names!”
“Heh.” The Witch pursed her lips and smiled, too lazy to argue with him. In her eyes, all faith was ridiculous; only one’s own strength was real. “Then keep at it, little wolf-dog. First, survive the person hiding in the shadows trying to assassinate us.”
“Hmph, so what if they’re hiding their cultivation?” The werewolf snorted disdainfully, though he couldn’t hide the hint of wariness in his eyes. “If this is a trial, then those fighting us Mid-tier mages can only be Mid-tier mages at most. They’ve killed so many people in a row, so their mana must be nearly exhausted. They won’t last much longer.”
“Oh? Is that so?” The Witch raised an eyebrow, her tone full of sarcasm. “Then I’d like to ask, Master Werewolf, how do you account for the mana recovery potions she scavenged from those dead idiots? Also, do you dare claim you didn’t instinctively tighten your claws when you caught her scent just now?”
The werewolf’s face stiffened. A flash of humiliated rage flickered in his beastly pupils. He bared his teeth viciously, his claws slicing through the air with a *whoosh*.
“Coward, just say whether you’re going or not! Do you want to team up and drag that brat out to slaughter them? If we let her keep killing, we’ll all end up dead at her hands sooner or later!”
“Hmm… let’s gather a few more.” The Witch pondered for a moment, her gaze sweeping toward the depths of the forest, where the residual power of Su Yun’s magic still lingered. “There should still be at least five mages at the peak of the Mid-tier. It’s impossible they were all taken out, right? There is strength in numbers. If the opponent really is some Peerless Genius, we’re just sending ourselves to die if we go alone.”
“I can smell them. Follow me.” After the werewolf finished speaking, he wasted no more words. He turned and sprinted toward the heart of the forest, moving as fast as lightning. His grayish-black figure darted through the trees, leaving behind a trail of afterimages.
The Witch thought for a moment before standing up to follow. She never felt she could win against a genius capable of slaughtering other mages of the same level so easily. Among the dead mages, there were plenty of experts skilled in concealment and ambushing, yet they had died without even seeing the opponent’s face.
That was enough to prove the brat’s terror.
If she wanted to survive, she could only hunt with the main group. Even if she didn’t get much of the spoils in the end, at least she could save her life.
***
About half an hour later, eleven red-name mages gathered on a stretch of open, scorched earth.
Besides five Level 49 peak Mid-tier mages, there were six other Mid-tier mages above Level 40. Each of them was shrouded in a thick scent of blood and an unshakeable killing intent. The ground beneath their feet was stained blackish-red by their malevolence. The air was thick with a strange odor—a mixture of blood, rot, and magic.
They huddled together, their faces full of wariness and greed. Their only consensus was to kill the ‘brat’ who was wantonly slaughtering them.
“I squatted at the barrier entrance and counted. A total of forty-seven children came down this time. I ate three,” said a mage dripping with yellow-green pus.
His skin was a rotting mess, revealing wriggling granulation tissue underneath. With every step, thick pus dripped down, corroding small, white-smoke-emitting pits into the ground. A nauseating stench filled the air. “The taste was decent, but their souls were too weak. Not much of a boost—just barely enough to fill the gaps between my teeth.”
“I only managed to kill two. I wasn’t even done enjoying myself when that brat’s lava balls almost blew up my hiding spot,” another mage in black robes complained. The hem of his robe was scorched black, and several burn marks scarred his face. His eyes were filled with venomous resentment. “The power of that magic is absurd. I saw with my own eyes a Level 45 old friend whose shield didn’t even last 3 seconds before he was blasted into charcoal.”
“I saw that brat’s magic. It’s a large-scale spell of the earth and fire elements. The coverage area is terrifyingly wide; an ordinary Mid-tier mage’s shield can’t block it at all,” a tall, thin mage added. He held a staff wrapped in chains, his voice trembling slightly. He had almost been caught in that wave of lava balls earlier, and the memory still left him with lingering fears.
They discussed among themselves, becoming more alarmed the more they spoke. Everyone had witnessed the horror of Su Yun’s magic to some degree or seen the gruesome deaths of their companions.
When they finally summed everything up, they realized that at most, only three children were left alive in the entire forest. There was the mysterious, blood-crazed brat, and two ‘soft persimmons’ hiding in corners, too afraid to make a sound.
Because of this, they became even more determined to unite.
“The few of us will move together to find their tracks,” the werewolf said, his amber pupils flashing with a bloodthirsty light. “As long as they appear within 2,000 meters of me, I can smell them. Even concealment magic won’t work.”
“Fine. Now is not the time for solo enjoyment.” The mages who had wanted to hunt the children alone and keep the spoils to themselves were forced to nod.
The threat from that mysterious brat was too great. If they didn’t deal with him first, they wouldn’t be able to hunt the other children in peace, let alone snatch the mana potions and potential treasures he carried.
These red-name mages were all old monsters who had lived for decades. Having lived so long and cultivated such skills, they felt ashamed to be hunted by a child who wasn’t even fully grown.
But they had no choice.
The children had chances to resurrect, but these death row inmates did not. If they wanted to live, they had to keep winning and keep fighting until they finally made a forced breakthrough to become a Dominator right under the Sovereign of Rules’ nose.
Although that chance was as slim as finding a needle in the ocean, it was their only way out. For that, what did face matter? What did self-esteem matter? All of it could be discarded.
The idea of teaming up to bully a child meant nothing to them. Moreover, they couldn’t treat the opponent’s strength as that of a child.
That was clearly a demon wearing a child’s skin!
The werewolf led the way, relying on his keen sense of smell to track the trail. Behind him followed a group of murderous red-name mages. With heavy steps and crazed gazes, they closed in on the direction where Ning Die was hiding.