"Interesting."
"Regardless of what this scene is testing, just this Blood Fog alone can help indirectly verify my ’Demon-infused Bloodline Technique’.
Ning Zhuo, filled with interest, stepped into the village.
The village was deathly silent.
On either side of the dirt road were crooked straw huts with mud walls, each door and window tightly shut, so window lattices stained with fresh bloody handprints. Scattered on the road were shattered farm tools, overturned baskets, and sporadic bloodstains. In the distance, several livestock carcasses were lying beside the field ridges, shriveled as if drained of Essence Blood.
"Hah... hahaha..."
The broken door of a straw hut on the right was suddenly slamd open, and a villager with blood-red eyes and saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth roared as he lunged out! This villager was in tattered clothes, with exposed skin covered in bulging dark veins, appearing insane, claws aiming straight for Ning Zhuo’s throat!
At the sa ti, the sa scene was occurring to every cultivator participating in the trial.
One cultivator saw a villager lunging at him and shouted, "Get lost!"
He swept his sleeve, knocking the villager away.
But imdiately, attracted by the commotion, three or four more frenzied villagers rushed out from behind the house and corner of the alley.
The cultivator, annoyed, exclaid, "re mortals courting death!"
He twisted his hands, making the palm wind like knives, and with two loud bangs, directly struck the charging villagers, causing their chests to cave in, blood spurting from their mouths as they flew back, convulsed a few tis upon landing, then lay still.
The cultivator slightly restrained the last blow, leaving one alive.
As he just attempted to interrogate, those villagers he struck dead suddenly drew in dense Blood Fog.
Threads of blood-colored fog entered their nose and mouth. Within three breaths, the bodies stood up again, the depressions in their chests filled and swollen by the Blood Fog, their eyes glowing even redder, rushing again with roars!
The cultivator’s expression changed slightly, striking again, shattering the top of each villager’s skull.
But the Blood Fog could still "repair" the corpses, only progressing a bit slower.
The sounds of fighting and the scent of blood attracted more villagers. In just a mont, villagers surged in like a tide, surrounding the cultivator.
They moved stiffly, with great strength, feeling no pain, advancing in an endless stream.
The cultivator, having achieved a Golden Core Cultivation level, was in no danger for himself but grew increasingly frustrated.
He considered using a large-scale Spell for swift clearance, only to find the Spell’s power significantly suppressed.
The cultivator also found that although these frenzied villagers, individually strong, posed no life threat to him, they were continually botherso.
He tried leaving the village, but always ended up walking back inside. Apparently, this scene was ant to confine the cultivator within the village.
Annoyed, the cultivator used Martial Arts to massacre continuously, causing streams of blood while attempting exploration.
Upon reaching a shrine in the village, suddenly from the side, an old woman with white hair rushed out, eyes blood-red, shakily waving a cane to strike.
The cultivator, not noticing subtle differences, assud she was an ordinary villager, and took her down with a palm strike.
In the next mont, he was transported out of the formation, inford of his elimination.
Cultivator: ?!
The old woman also attacked Ning Zhuo.
"Hmm? This person seems different from the other villagers." Ning Zhuo’s eyes flashed, decisively subduing the old woman.
Ning Zhuo carried the old woman while jumping across rooftops, gaining ti to study.
The old woman, sealed by Ning Zhuo’s Mana, remained motionless like a statue.
Ning Zhuo’s Divine Sense probed in, imdiately discovering the Blood Fog’s erosion on her was very shallow, different from the other villagers—she could still be saved!
With two fingers like a sword, Ning Zhuo continuously tapped the old woman’s acupoints, combining Divine Sense and Mana to help suppress the Blood Qi within her.
In the Blood Fog, the eroded one’s Blood Qi was chaotic and conflicted, but Ning Zhuo, having intensively studied the ’Demon-infused Bloodline Technique’, was well-versed in such matters. Especially during the making of the Inheriting Dao Jade Page, deepening further understanding of the ’Demon-infused Bloodline Technique’.
Thus, soon the redness in the old woman’s eyes receded significantly, revealing a pair of bewildered and pained eyes. Her mouth opened as if to speak but no sound ca out, her body softened, and she fainted.
At the sa ti, the dark veins under her skin visibly faded, her breathing quickly steady.
"It worked after all." Ning Zhuo felt a slight thrill.
The old woman’s change was anticipated by him. His joy wasn’t for that but rather: "The Demon Contamination Technique can be used not only to harm but also to save. It shows that so-called Demon Skills are rely tools by nature. Used rightly they are righteous, wrongly they are not."
"Used to punish evil, it’s aggressive erosion. Used to promote good, it conducts benevolence, carefully grooming the human body."
Subsequently, Ning Zhuo decisively changed strategy.
He moved through the crowd like a butterfly among flowers, saving every villager with "a breath remaining".
The more Ning Zhuo rescued, the more smoothly it went. After saving twenty-eight villagers, smoke and clouds rose again, obscuring the village and Blood Fog in a blur.
Simultaneously, a Divine Sense Transmission inford Ning Zhuo that he had successfully passed this stage.
Many cultivators from the Evil Slaying Hall were watching Ning Zhuo.
"He really passed the first stage."
"I told you, he definitely had no problem!"
"Ning Zhuo is calm and composed, enduring the agitation of Blood Fog, accurately identifying the ’special’ villagers. His attitude towards mortals has always been affable, truly worthy of having a Righteous Path heart."
As cultivators practice for long, arrogance often arises, harboring disdain and contempt for mortals.
Many cultivators eliminated in the first stage were not only careless or impatient but also borne from arrogance, rendering them incapable of patiently treating each mortal. Especially as these mortals actively courted death, persistently offending them.
Ning Zhuo didn’t rush onward.
He rapidly reviewed the first stage in his mind, feeling so lingering fear.
"That was a bit risky."
"If I hadn’t been studying the Blood Fog, with Divine Sense constantly scanning the surroundings, I’d have struggled to discern differences among the frenzied villagers."
"If I’d blindly lashed out to kill, I might have been eliminated."
Contemplation flickered in Ning Zhuo’s eyes: "So, this stage was testing a cultivator’s micro-observation ability? ans to clear Blood Fog?"
"Perhaps... the focus was on the cultivator’s mindset."
Having reached so understanding, Ning Zhuo then took a step and entered the second stage.
The smoke before his eyes dispersed, and Ning Zhuo found himself in a dungeon.
The dungeon was damp and chilly, moss of dark green color creeping over the stone walls, with piles of decaying straw in the corners, the air thick with a mix of rust and musty sll. On the walls, every few yards, was an embedded dim oil lamp, the flas flickering, stretching the silhouettes into distorted swaying movents.
Ning Zhuo observed around, uncertain, and decided to continue along the passageway, probing ahead.
After taking a dozen steps, Ning Zhuo heard footsteps.
Soon after, from the opposite passage, a cultivator slowly erged.
This person was tall and thin, around thirty in appearance, yet his temples were already graying, notably with long white eyebrows extending to his cheekbones, under the dim lamp light, showing a cool glimr.
His face was lean, the facial features sharply defined like chiseled, with slightly sunken eye sockets, yet his eyes were astonishingly bright, gaze sharp like an eagle, revealing the sedint of weathered experiences and a hint of persistent lancholy.
He was wearing a dark blue outfit washed to whiteness, with a sheathed black iron longsword hanging at his waist, the blade dull and lustreless, yet faintly emitted a bloody aura.
"The White Eyebrow Hero... Gu Huaijiu." Ning Zhuo thought of the na.
Before participating, he had gone through the Evil Slaying Hall’s compiled briefs on participants, holding a deep impression of this person—a lone survivor from the exterminated clan of Flying Cloud Country, specialized in killing demonic officials and evil cultivators, praised by the people but wanted by the state. During the previous trial in the Sinking Sin Swamp, Gu Huaijiu had steady progress, being Ning Zhuo’s main competitor.
"According to the information, after personal tragedy, he rarely smiles, filled with deep-seated resentnt. Just as described..." Ning Zhuo narrowed his eyes.
The next mont, Gu Huaijiu gave a slight smile, proactively gesturing a Daoist salute: "So it’s Daoist Fellow Ning Zhuo. I, Gu Huaijiu, offer my respect."
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