As the black poisonous mist crept closer, the small porcelain vial in Su Muyu's arms suddenly trembled. He took out the vial, opened the lid, and the little green snake first poked its head out, flicked its tongue, then leaped out of the vial. It circled around Su Muyu once, and the poisonous mist halted a zhang away from him, refusing to advance any further. After completing its task, the little green snake crawled back to Su Muyu's feet, rubbing its head against his foot as if seeking some form of encouragement.
"So you have such abilities," Su Muyu murmured, bending down to scratch the little green snake's head.
Encouraged, the little green snake happily coiled in place before climbing onto Su Muyu's palm and making its way back into the vial. It seemed exhausted, closing its eyes and curling up motionless inside. Su Muyu tucked the vial back into his robe and gazed at the poisonous mist ahead, gently twirling the handle of his umbrella.
Beyond the mist, Tang Lingkui toyed with a string of jade beads and murmured, "The Hundred Poisons Mist can shatter bones and dissolve intestines, yet there's not a sound from within the poison formation. Does the Umbrella Ghost of Dark River possess such formidable willpower? To endure such agony without a single reaction?"
Tang Lingluo channeled his True Qi, a golden light flashing in his eyes as he peered through the mist. To his shock, the figure holding the umbrella stood completely unharmed. "How is this possible?" he exclaimed.
"What did you see?" Tang Lingkui asked.
"He stands there without a scratch," Tang Lingluo replied, shaking his head. "Could it be that the Su Family head is also skilled in poison arts?"
"Impossible. Within Dark River, only the Mu Family studies poison arts. The Su Family assassins focus solely on refining their swordsmanship and are forbidden from delving into poison techniques," Tang Lingkui said gravely. "There must be another reason."
"Deputy Chief," a black-clad subordinate stepped forward.
Tang Lingkui turned. "What is it?"
The subordinate spoke solemnly, "The Three-Legged Golden Toad I keep suddenly grew restless earlier, trying to break free from my embrace. This has never happened before."
"And what does that signify?" Tang Lingkui asked.
The subordinate looked up. "It means a Poison King has appeared here."
"A Poison King?" Tang Lingkui glanced at Tang Lingluo.
"How many beings in this world can be called a Poison King? And it just happens to be with Su Muyu?" Tang Lingluo snapped. "This isn't some excuse you're making up because your poison mist failed, is it?"
"Absolutely not! The Three-Legged Golden Toad would only react this way if a Poison King were present!" the subordinate insisted urgently.
"Then if the poison mist can't harm him, what can we do? We can't just wait indefinitely," Tang Lingkui said.
The subordinate nodded. "But he can't break free either. Our poison formation can trap him for at least three hours. During that time, we'll locate Mu Qingyang as quickly as possible and eliminate him."
"Have we truly trapped him?" Tang Lingkui sneered. "I'm not so sure about that."Deep in the mountains, Mu Qingyang was desperately searching for a way out when he suddenly noticed a sparrow circling in the air before landing at his feet. He looked down and froze. "Have these Tang Sect lunatics gone mad? Are they trying to poison an entire mountain? Do I, Mu Qingyang, really warrant such an extravagant effort from them?"
"He's here!" A voice rang out nearby. Mu Qingyang whirled around just in time to see an iron caltrop flying toward him. He dodged sideways, feeling it graze past his temple. "How considerate of you Tang Sect folks," he muttered. "Announcing your attacks before launching them. Such honorable hidden weapons."
No sooner had he spoken than five or six figures came charging at him.
"Ah, strength in numbers. Forget what I said." Mu Qingyang turned and ran. Raising his head, he saw a dark mist enveloping the distant forest. He thought to himself: Judging by their actions, they're targeting someone else too! Could other Dark River members have arrived? Rather than being chased here, I should go join forces with them!
What if it's Su Muyu coming?
Then I'll be saved!
The mere possibility that Su Muyu might be the one arriving instantly lifted Mu Qingyang's spirits.
Within the poisonous mist formation, Su Muyu stood with eyes closed, his hand gently rotating his sword hilt.
From the very beginning of his swordsmanship training, his master had taught him one fundamental truth:
Nothing in this world is impregnable.
All things under heaven possess an "eye."
This "eye" represents their vulnerable point.
Destroy the eye, and you destroy the formation.
To topple a mountain with a single sword is not impossible—if one strikes precisely at its eye.
Su Muyu suddenly opened his eyes. From closing them to reopening, only the time it takes an incense stick to burn had passed.
Yet he had found it.
He grabbed the paper umbrella beside him and spun violently, darting southwestward. The opened umbrella whirled rapidly, creating a three-foot barrier that kept the poisonous mist at bay. In just a few leaps, he had traversed the mist and stood before Tang Lingkui and his companions.
"What?!" Tang Lingluo exclaimed in shock.
Tang Lingkui had already sprung into action. Though his body appeared frail, his movements were lightning-fast. As he leaped, iron gloves appeared on his hands, and he exchanged thirteen consecutive blows with Su Muyu midair.
"Heavenly Press Gloves!" Su Muyu said solemnly.
"Might I have the honor of witnessing the Su Family Head's Eighteen Sword Formation?" Tang Lingkui asked, retreating a step after another exchange.
Dozens of figures then emerged from the forest, all attacking Su Muyu simultaneously. Swinging his umbrella, Su Muyu parried while retreating before finally halting midair. He pressed his palm against the umbrella handle and gave it a gentle twist.
The umbrella blossomed like a flower.
Seventeen long swords shot out, repelling all enemies before embedding themselves in surrounding tree trunks. Puppet silk connected the seventeen swords, weaving through the forest like an enormous spider web. Su Muyu landed lightly on the silk threads, raising his sword as he gazed at the Tang Sect members before him—the perfect hunter surveying his prey."You are fortunate, for I rarely get the chance to deploy the Eighteen Sword Formation in the jungle. But the most perfect manifestation of the Eighteen Sword Formation should look just like this." Su Muyu flicked his slender Rain Sword lightly. "A net of absolute death, severing all signs of life."
Tang Lingluo said solemnly, "For one person to wield so many swords simultaneously—legend says only the lord of Peerless City could achieve such a feat."
Tang Lingkui narrowed his eyes. "This is not the same as the art of sword manipulation. This is the pinnacle of killing techniques."
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