Immortality Begins with Krypton Life

Chapter 262 Returning Souls in Tears of BloodChen Mu did not answer. He simply lowered his eyes to look at the corpse, then looked up, his gaze sweeping across the crowd as he spoke in a deep voice.

”Search around. Those girls should be inside the cave.”

Wan Chongshan’s body trembled as he snapped back to his senses. He had been staring at the Bat King’s corpse, his eyes bloodshot. Upon hearing Chen Mu’s words, he immediately gripped his steel sickle-spear and turned to walk toward the depths of the cave chamber.

”Brother Wan,” Chen Mu called out to stop him.

Wan Chongshan turned back. Chen Mu looked at him without offering any redundant comfort, simply saying:

”Find them, and bring them back.”

Wan Chongshan nodded heavily, then turned and strode into the darkness.

Feng Qing said nothing, following behind him with his bow in hand. Ling Xiaoning gripped his short sword, gritted his teeth, and followed as well.

Shen Suning glanced at Chen Mu, and seeing him nod slightly, she turned to lead Liu Quan and Zhao Mo to search in another direction.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away.

Chen Mu stood in place, waiting until the group was far away before slowly crouching down.

The Bat King’s corpse lay sprawled on the ground, its wing membranes torn, its fur charred black, two of its sharp claws broken, and black blood still seeping from the blade wounds.

Chen Mu took out a thumb-sized jade bottle from his robe. It felt cool to the touch, and the mouth was sealed with wax.

Cheng Xiaoqing’s private mission: retrieve the monster’s blood and fur, seal them, and bring them back without letting them pass through anyone else’s hands.

He uncorked the bottle and aimed the opening at the wound on the Bat King’s chest and abdomen. Black blood was still slowly seeping out. One drop, two drops, three drops fell into the jade bottle with a faint dripping sound.

Chen Mu watched quietly, but another thought was spinning rapidly in his mind.

The Bat King’s final words before death had been lingering in his heart.

”How dare you, brat! When Fen Tian rages, blood will flow enough to float pestles!”

Fen Tian—he had heard this name before.

That was a Demon King who had occupied the Southern Barrens for decades, possessing terrifying strength and a notorious reputation.

Thousand-Household Liao had taken the elites of Team A and the majority of Team B to the distant Southern Barrens and had yet to return, all for the purpose of exterminating this Demon King Fen Tian.

But why would the Bat King mention Fen Tian?

The malice and resentment he showed before dying clearly weren’t just because he was about to perish; they carried a sort of confidence as if he had something to fall back on.

Chen Mu’s gaze fell upon the Bat King’s distorted human face.

The creature was burned to such a state—charred fur, torn wing membranes, broken claws, and a massive gash in its chest—yet those eyes alone continued to stare at him fixedly.

Those eyes were filled with resentment, malice, and a near-manic mockery.

Chen Mu recalled the scene from earlier. The crimson flame demon-binding net had erupted into raging flames; ordinary monsters would have certainly died upon contact, yet this Bat King had been able to move freely through the fiery net without a single burn on its fur.

It wasn’t afraid of fire, or rather, it had an extremely high resistance to it.

Chen Mu’s brow furrowed slightly as a thought began to take shape.

If this Bat King was related to Demon King Fen Tian, or was even a creature under Fen Tian’s command, then its fire-resistant trait had a logical explanation.

Fen Tian was famous for fire. The monsters under him would naturally possess a strong resistance to flames by being tainted with his aura. And as for its specific targeting of unwed maidens whose fates carried Yin Sha to use their Yin Qi for cultivation—could that also have been Fen Tian’s instruction? Or was it preparing something for Fen Tian?

But if that was the case...

Chen Mu’s gaze deepened a bit more, then he shook his head, suppressing these thoughts for the time being.

Now was not the time for deep investigation.

He held the jade bottle close, collected about half a bottle of black blood, then recorked it and tucked it into his robe. He also tore several tufts of fur from the edge of the Bat King’s wing membrane, wrapped them in oil paper, and put them away as well.

Having finished all this, he slowly stood up and scanned the surroundings.

The creature was dead, but the mysteries it left behind were far more numerous than when it was alive.

Demon King Fen Tian, the fire-resistant trait, the threat before death, and Cheng Xiaoqing’s secretive private mission—these fragments vaguely pointed toward something much larger, but he couldn’t see the full picture yet.

Forget it.

Chen Mu withdrew his gaze.

What is meant to come will come; there is no escaping it. Rather than engaging in idle speculation here, it was better to handle the task at hand first.

He turned and walked toward the depths of the cave.

The glow from the fluorescent pearls could only illuminate a three-foot radius. Beyond that was pitch black. Chen Mu stepped on thick layers of bat guano as he walked inward, his feet occasionally stepping on something soft that made a muffled sound.

The further in he went, the stronger the smell of blood became, almost thickening into a physical substance that made breathing difficult.

Chen Mu quickened his pace, and finally, there was light ahead.

It was the faint light of fluorescent pearls, three or five gathered together, illuminating a relatively open cave chamber.

Shen Suning stood at the cave entrance with her back to him, her shoulders and back tense. Ling Xiaoning was crouching on the ground, shaking like a leaf. Liu Quan stood there blankly, carrying his large crate, without a trace of a smile on his face.

Wan Chongshan was crouching at the very back, his back turned to everyone.

Chen Mu walked over, passing Shen Suning, Ling Xiaoning, and Liu Quan until he reached Wan Chongshan’s side, and then his footsteps halted.

This was a side chamber at the deepest part of the cave, much narrower than the main chamber. The floor was covered with a layer of straw that had already turned black and rotted.

Four corpses lay side by side on the straw, all of them women, all around sixteen or seventeen years old.

They lay very neatly, their hands folded over their chests, their eyes tightly closed. Their expressions were calm, almost peaceful; if not for their deathly pale complexions and bodies so shriveled they were nearly out of shape, one might have thought they were just sleeping.

Their blood had been sucked dry.

Chen Mu watched quietly, saying nothing.

Wan Chongshan crouched beside the innermost corpse.

It was a young girl wearing coarse cloth clothes. The clothes were old and washed until they were pale, but they were very clean, and the patches were sewn on neatly.

Her face was thinner than the three beside her, her cheekbones slightly protruding, but one could faintly see traces of Wan Chongshan’s features in her eyes and brows.

Wan Xiaoyuan, Wan Chongshan’s younger sister.

Wan Chongshan did not cry. He crouched there with his head lowered, his hands clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood, yet he did not let go.

He just crouched there, simply crouched.

After a long time, he reached out and gently stroked his sister’s face.

That face was cold and stiff, long devoid of warmth. Wan Chongshan’s fingertips trembled for a moment before he withdrew them. He opened his mouth, and a very low whimper escaped his throat, like a wounded beast. Even though he tried his best to suppress it, a sliver still leaked out before he forced it back down.

He lowered his head, burying his face in his palms, and his shoulders began to shake.

The shaking grew more and more violent, yet he never made a sound, just shaking silently like that.

Tears seeped through the gaps between his fingers and dripped onto the ground. One drop, two drops, they were quickly absorbed by the bat guano, leaving no trace.

It was unknown how much time had passed before Wan Chongshan’s shoulders finally stopped shaking. He slowly stood up, head lowered, and wiped his face harshly with his sleeve. Then he bent down and carefully picked up his sister from the straw.

The corpse was very light, possessing almost no weight in his arms.

Wan Chongshan held her, his lips moving as he finally spoke.

”Xiao Yuan... Brother is taking you home.”