Reborn as a Hatrack in the Mystical Land
Chapter 99 - 18 Dan Demon Realm_2

Chapter 99: Chapter 18 Dan Demon Realm_2

They all guessed wrong; the Dan Demon Tomb was a serene ancient village, no different from the typical ancient villages seen in the south.

Diminutive thatched cottages, decrepit wattle walls, and even the night sky, brimming with numerous stars, were like countless peaceful nights.

Yue Jinghua and Feng Buhui dared not be careless as they pushed open a door and entered a courtyard.

The courtyard had a dry well, parched for water. A bucket lay askew on the ground, its contents long evaporated, and around its rim, a ring of green mold had grown.

Opening the door to a dwelling, inside was a table set with an untouched dinner; steamed buns and dishes were all covered in moldy blotches.

"There are no signs of a Mercenary Group having been stationed here; let’s keep moving forward," Feng Buhui led Yue Jinghua further on.

Yue Jinghua looked back at the courtyard and the house, furrowing her brow.

After walking through the village for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, something vaguely visible appeared on the path ahead.

A black object was slowly shifting its position.

Feng Buhui’s face displayed a hint of astonishment, alert and at the ready, he knocked his crossbow.

The black object drew closer, turning out to be a person. Hearing the footsteps of the two, he raised his head; painful groans escaped his lips, a voice somewhat familiar.

"Ah Bu," upon recognizing the person crawling on the ground as the youngest mercenary from the Rebellion Mercenary Group, Feng Buhui relaxed his previously tense nerves.

Ah Bu’s body was wrapped in bloodstained bandages, his eyes sunken, he called out weakly.

"Who inflicted this, where are the deputy leader and the others?" Feng Buhui, seeing his comrade wounded, cast aside all reservations, took a quick step forward intending to help Ah Bu up.

"Wait," Yue Jinghua roared angrily, her "Soft Finger" streaking through, like a surprise flash in the dark night.

A nauseating sound of flesh tearing and blood spattering echoed.

The "Lianyun" behind Yue Jinghua, with its indistinct patterns on the sword, suddenly flashed and then dimmed once more,

Ah Bu’s body, like a torn piece of paper, was ripped into two halves. Black blood flowed across the ground.

"Have you gone mad? He’s one of our own," Feng Buhui, with eyes fiery red, unintentionally aimed his crossbow at Yue Jinghua.

Hiss, like a venomous snake, a thin thread wound around the fine iron crossbow, tightly constricting the weapon in Feng Buhui’s grasp, "I modified your crossbow for you, but not for you to kill me. Remember, never point your weapon at your life-saving benefactor. Turn around and see what’s behind you," Yue Jinghua hung a Great Sword in her room, so Feng Buhui always assumed that was her weapon, only to find that her weapon was actually a thread as thin as a silk.

What material the thread was made of was unknown, but in the night it held onto the crossbow with a death grip; even the high-quality finely refined iron crossbow looked as if it had been wounded by a Spiritual Artifact, a deep crease indenting it.

Amidst his shock, Feng Buhui turned around.

Ah Bu lay with his eyes open, murky yellow eyes leaking putrid water, his chest bore a through-and-through hole, his organs vanished without a trace. In his eyes, there was no longer a sign of life,

In the moment of dire crisis, Yue Jinghua didn’t have time to think, "Soft Finger" still covered in black blood. In that critical moment, a hair’s breadth from disaster, if any later, Feng Buhui would be the next Ah Bu.

Scolded by Yue Jinghua, Feng Buhui also came to his senses, shuddering as he saw Ah Bu lying on the ground. Seeing the manner of his comrade’s death, a sourness rose in Feng Buhui’s throat.

Ah Bu was dead, the Ah Bu who just days earlier had been drinking and swearing with him was dead.

"Crack," Yue Jinghua took out the flint she always carried, ignited the stone, and threw it at the nearby houses and hedges.

The roaring fire reddened half the sky as the village disappeared into the flames.

"What the hell happened just now? How did you know about Ah Bu..." At this moment, Feng Buhui also vaguely realized that there was something strange about this village. Had he been seeing hallucinations?

Although every member of the Rebellion Mercenary Group that entered Dan Demon Tomb had resigned themselves to the possibility of death, Feng Buhui didn’t expect Ah Bu to be the first to die.

Ah Bu was young, but he was nimble and quick to react. It was his youth and lack of experience that made him appear so pale in the face of this deserted village.

"If it was just an injury, Ni Qianjun wouldn’t have left him behind," Yue Jinghua felt a chill down her spine, as she reached back to check "Lianyun" without finding anything unusual.

Yue Jinghua didn’t tell the whole truth, her suspicion was not solely based on trust in Ni Qianjun. After all, in such a complex situation, even Ni Qianjun could not guarantee not to abandon a comrade.

What made Yue Jinghua suspicious was the moldy food and buildings that could be seen everywhere upon entering the village, all growing aspergillus.

According to the knowledge Yue Xiaoqi acquired from the 23rd century, a massive amount of moldy and rotten food emits a toxin called poisonous aspergillus. This toxin is not fatal, but it erodes the optic nerve and cognitive abilities, causing hallucinations.

The people of Canglong Continent naturally would not know the intricacies of this. Faced with such conditions, they would only think it’s haunted or that demons are at play, causing panic and even madness unknowingly.

Burning the village is the only way to break free from the toxic environment.

"Yes, the deputy leader would never abandon a wounded brother," Feng Buhui had no time for excessive sorrow, why only the body of Old Qiu was found, what about the other brothers? Where did Ni Qianjun and the others go?

"Stop guessing wildly, move forward," as the penicillin toxin was burned by the fire, turning into smoke and dust, Yue Jinghua and Feng Buhui walked into the blood fog that lay dense ahead.

The fire burned until the dawn, finally ceasing, turning the ancient village, rotted for hundreds of years, into ruins.

The scorched corpse of Old Qiu twitched slightly; from the hole in his chest, a susurrus sound emerged, and something fell out from the hole, shining brightly.

After the sounds, the body of the barbarian turned to dust in the flames. The blood mist grew thicker.

Eventually, dawn broke; on the deck of the Fire Dragon Sail, Old Teluo stood as still as a sculpture. "Feng Buhui is gone, and so is Alchemist Yue," after hearing the report from the mercenaries on board, Old Teluo sighed deeply.

"Set sail back, bring the news to the leader,"

The ship rose slowly, heading towards the direction of the rising sun.