One person: Lu family bodyguard, who shattered Longhu Mountain with a single palm strike.

On the path leading into the village, two familiar figures were hurrying towards them.

Wang Ye, with dark circles under his eyes, followed Zhuge Qing out of the woods, stepping on muddy grass.

When they saw the still screaming head on the open ground, and the group of highly skilled individuals who were stunned like quails, the two couldn't help but gasp.

The scene on the grass at the village entrance had an indescribable eeriness.

Lin Mo had one hand in his pocket, with Lu Linglong standing beside him, her pretty face pale.

Not far away, Ma Xianhong and Fu Rong stood frozen in place, like two weathered clay sculptures.

At their feet lay a horrifying pool of blood and flesh.

A section of the spine, stark white, stood upright amidst the rotting flesh.

The head at the very top, belonging to Zhao Guizhen, was emitting a mournful howl at an unbelievable frequency.

Holy crap.

Wang Ye stopped in his tracks, his lips trembling involuntarily.

He touched the back of his head and felt a chill creep up his spine.

Zhuge Qing's eyes, which were usually squinted, were now fully open.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and into his collar.

He swallowed hard.

"Old Qing, this scene is much more exciting than what we saw at the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony, isn't it?"

Wang Ye turned to look at Zhuge Qing, his voice tinged with fear.

"I think it's most likely because Brother Lin intervened."

Zhuge Qing gave a wry smile, not daring to linger his gaze on that head for long.

Is this even human?

With all flesh and bones gone, leaving only a bone supporting the head, they still forced someone to live and suffer this excruciating torture.

"After all, our Brother Lin is a living god who can shatter the secrets of heaven that even the combined power of all the sorcerers couldn't unravel with a single slap in that void of inner landscape."

Wang Ye took a deep breath and exhaled the stale air from his lungs.

Zhuge Qing glanced at Wang Ye, his eyes revealing a hint of helplessness and resentment.

"Tell me, why did you invite this big shot here?"

"Wasn't I doing this for you?"

Wang Ye glared back, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"If you hadn't insisted on coming to this godforsaken place to die, would I have gone all the way here and spent ten million to call for reinforcements?"

Zhuge Qing's lips moved slightly.

I wanted to argue, but I didn't know how to start, so I could only turn my head away silently.

A mountain breeze blew by, carrying with it the pungent smell of blood.

Standing next to Lin Mo, Lu Linglong subconsciously moved closer to him.

Although the little girl usually hates evil, this painting that exceeds the limits of human physiology still shocked her.

However, she felt little fear; instead, she gained a sense of enlightenment.

For such a beast who uses innocent children to practice magic, letting him die a quick death is actually the greatest blessing.

Lin Mo, who was not far away, did not pay any attention to the whispers between Wang Ye and the other person behind him.

He looked at the pitiful "lamb spine" at his feet, but his eyes remained completely unmoved.

The despicable things Zhao Guizhen did would have been enough to get him killed a thousand times over in any era.

As for why Zhao Guizhen, despite looking like a ghost, could still scream with such vigor.

That's naturally because of the Heavenly Extreme True Qi within Lin Mo's body.

This power integrates various divine skills such as the Nine Yang Manual, the Nine Yin Manual, the Five Thunder Heavenly Heart Technique, the Heavenly Demon Great Art, the Longevity Technique, and the Sacred Heart Technique.

It has long transcended the realm of ordinary martial arts.

With the blessing of these top-tier divine skills, let alone giving and taking away lifespan at will like Di Shitian, who lived for two thousand years in Feng Yun.

Even if it meant forcibly bringing someone who had just breathed their last back to life, it would be nothing more than a casual act for Lin Mo.

Even though Zhao Guizhen's internal organs have turned into mud and his flesh and blood have been completely devoured.

As long as Lin Mo doesn't nod, that surging vitality will firmly lock his soul to this half of his spine.

If his true energy is withdrawn, Zhao Guizhen will immediately be annihilated.

That was tantamount to giving him a quick death.

Lin Mo clearly did not intend to do that.

With a slight twitch of his fingertips, a gentle yet infinitely domineering burst of true energy was unleashed once more.

It went straight into Zhao Guizhen's crown chakra.

This vital energy was like an inexhaustible spring, enough to sustain Zhao Guizhen's life for a full forty-nine days.

Every single second, he was acutely aware of the vengeful spirits tearing at his soul and the boundless pain tormented by nightmares.

Immediately afterwards, Lin Mo raised his right hand, his fingertips tracing random lines in the air.

The specks of golden light gathered rapidly, like fireflies on a summer night.

In the blink of an eye, a dazzling golden light spell took shape out of thin air.

It transformed into a semi-circular inverted light shield, protecting the severed spine and the pool of flesh in the center.

It is the Golden Light Mantra from the Eight Divine Mantras of Taoism, the same Golden Light Mantra used by Zhang Zhiwei, Zhang Lingyu, and Zhang Chulan.

The Golden Light Spell was cast by Lin Mo, who was at the Ascension Realm.

Even if the old Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain were to come in person, it would be difficult to break through in a short time.

Looking across the world, no one can break through its defenses.

This barrier will also remain in place for forty-nine days to ensure that Zhao Guizhen's process of atonement is not interrupted.

"I was wrong!"

"Stop biting! Ah..."

"Please kill me! Help!"

Inside the golden light barrier, Zhao Guizhen's screams echoed across the open space, piercing everyone's eardrums.

Kneeling in the mud, Ma Xianhong's fingers involuntarily dug into the damp soil.

He thought that by mastering the Eight Extraordinary Skills, he had already reached the threshold of becoming one of the world's top masters.

But what was happening before his eyes shattered his pride and faith of many years.

The kitchen knife in Fu Rong's hand clattered onto the bluestone slab.

She covered her mouth, trying to suppress the acid reflux rising in her throat, her trembling shoulders betraying her inner fear.

Liu Wukui, Jin Yong, Bi Yuan, Ding Zihuan, Zhong Xiaolong, and even the physically imposing Harichagai.

At that moment, no one dared to even breathe loudly.

For the first time, they truly experienced what it meant to be worse than dead.

In front of this young man who was just standing there casually.

Even choosing death has become an unattainable luxury.

This is the real living Yama.

The autumn wind swept up a few fallen leaves from the ground, swirling them into the distance.

Lin Mo patted the dust off his hands and turned around.

He glanced at the trembling Ma Xianhong, then swept his gaze over the group of trembling, rooted individuals.

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, revealing a gentle yet chilling smile.

"The matter of the fake Maoshan has been resolved."

Lin Mo slowly took a step forward, his leather shoes making a soft sound as they stepped on the dry grass.

"So, what's next..."

His gaze lingered on Ma Xianhong's bloodless face.

"It's your turn."

……

Thank you for your support, dear readers!