With a grin plastered on his face, Fang Mo faced two opponents who could kill him with a single punch. There was no fear on his expression, only mad confidence.
Han Ping and Bai Feng created some distance between themselves. After Su Wenyan's death, Han Ping was no longer in a hurry to escape. The allure of a Tier 3 spiritual plant was too great for him to resist. With it, he would have enough resources to improve his cultivation to at least the fifth level of the Opening Meridian Stage.
"Who are you? Do you know the consequences of killing someone from my Green Mountain Sect?" Bai Feng said. In truth, Green Mountain was nothing more than a Mortal Sect; however, Fang Mo's clothes made him look like, at best, a rogue cultivator.
Fang Mo chortled at the useless threat. Whether they were from a Mortal, Earth, or Heaven-level sect, what did it matter? Once they were buried seven meters underground, who would know he was the one who committed the murder?
"Since you two can compete for the Blood Lotuses, why can't I? You can send your sect after me if you want, but first, you need to escape alive. Are you willing to run and leave the Blood Lotuses behind?"
Fang Mo wanted them to believe he was also there for the Blood Lotuses. This would allow some room for negotiation. If they knew he was set on killing them, then there would be no use in talking, and they might attack him immediately.
And just as he hoped, Han Ping took the initiative. "My friends, there are ten Blood Lotuses and three of us. Why don't we each take three? As for the remaining one, you two can compete between yourselves, I don't want it."
A disdainful smile formed on Fang Mo's face. "Hehe, what a poisonous snake you are. You want me and him to kill each other while you fish in troubled waters? I'd be a fool to believe you."
Han Ping's face darkened. Though he would have preferred for Bai Feng and Fang Mo to kill each other so he could claim all the Blood Lotuses for himself, he didn't mind settling for three. As the saying goes: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
"Then what do you suggest?" Han Ping asked. His breath was already ragged, but he didn't realize it was because of Fang Mo's poison.
Bai Feng wasn't faring much better, but he was smarter than Han Ping and noticed something was wrong when he looked at Han Ping's ragged breaths. "Han Ping, you idiot, he poisoned us!"
Fang Mo's face darkened. He couldn't wait any longer. He took two small flasks from his satchel and threw them at Han Ping and Bai Feng. Their movements were sluggish, but they weren't paralyzed like Lei Qiu. Bai Feng threw himself to the ground, dodging the flask, which shattered a few meters behind him.
When it hit the ground, the flask broke into pieces, and a sizzling sound rang out as plants behind him melted. Han Ping, on the other hand, was certainly dumber than Bai Feng. Instead of dodging the flask, he punched it on instinct. The flask shattered, and the liquid inside splashed onto his clothes and exposed face.
Agonizing screams echoed as his skin and clothes melted away. In a matter of seconds, all the skin on his face had dissolved, exposing the bone beneath. The mixture of poisons was too much for his body to handle. Han Ping drew his last breath and became compost for the very Blood Lotus he had sought.
Bai Feng saw what happened to Han Ping and shivered. He couldn't allow Fang Mo's poison to touch him. With some difficulty, he rose from the ground. He wanted to know how Fang Mo had managed to poison him, but he knew that talking would only buy Fang Mo time and bring him closer to death.
Without a word, Bai Feng charged at Fang Mo. If Bai Feng hadn't been poisoned, Fang Mo knew he would have stood no chance; his neck would've already been chopped off. But now, Bai Feng's speed wasn't much greater than his.
Still, Fang Mo knew it was only a matter of time before Bai Feng reached him. He backed away and threw another flask, forcing Bai Feng to dodge to the side. While retreating, Fang Mo deliberately stumbled and let a potion slip from his hand. He fell on his butt as the flask shattered on the ground and released a gaseous substance invisible to the naked eye.
Bai Feng sneered in disdain, unaware that Fang Mo had acted with purpose. With a powerful leap, he swung his sword downward, aiming to cleave Fang Mo in two. Fang Mo acted quickly, throwing himself toward the same side where he'd broken the flask, but he wasn't fast enough to fully avoid the strike.
The sword grazed Fang Mo's shoulder, and a trail of blood stained the grass. He flinched from the pain but forced himself to stand.
Before he could fully rise, Bai Feng moved in again to kill him, unwilling to give his opponent a chance to escape. But as he pursued Fang Mo, he unknowingly passed through the area where the invisible poison lingered.
With the amount of neurotoxin Bai Feng had inhaled, it was just a matter of time before his body succumbed. Fang Mo wasn't sure if the poison would be fatal, but it would definitely paralyze Bai Feng for a short while. All he needed now was to buy himself enough time for that to happen—but his speed was slower than Bai Feng's, and he only had two flasks of poison left.
Fang Mo held a flask of acid in his hand, opened it, and splashed half of it toward Bai Feng. Bai Feng was prepared; he sidestepped to evade the liquid before charging forward again to strike.
Without hesitation, Fang Mo threw the flask at him. Bai Feng's expression darkened, and he dove to the ground to dodge. Fang Mo used the opportunity to get back on his feet and retreat a few meters.
"Bastard, I won't let you escape," Bai Feng growled. He tried to stand, but the strength had left his legs. With a trembling body, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. "I-Impossible…"
Fang Mo stopped and turned to face him, though he didn't dare get closer. Who knew if Bai Feng was faking it?
Still unsure whether the poison would be enough to kill him, Fang Mo threw his last poison flask at Bai Feng's head. Without suspense, Bai Feng died, his fate similar to Han Ping's, though less painful. The neurotoxin had alleviated his suffering before death.
Fang Mo panted heavily, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. He had just recovered from an arrow wound in his shoulder, only to tear it open again. This time not by an arrow, but by a sword. He took a bandage from his satchel and wrapped it around the wound a few times to stop the bleeding.
After ensuring he wouldn't pass out from blood loss, Fang Mo searched the bodies of the five cultivators. He had hoped to find something useful, but they were disappointingly poor. Aside from their weapons, which didn't interest him, they carried only a few translucent stones and three jade bottles. Fang Mo assumed the translucent stones were spiritual stones.
He carefully placed the ten Blood Lotuses into the jade bottles before storing them in his satchel. Since five people had died fighting over them, they had to be valuable.
All six bodies, including Ren Tingfeng's, were thrown into the lake. Fang Mo would have liked to give the old man a proper burial, but he couldn't afford the risk. If the Green Mountain Sect investigated the deaths, they might link Ren Tingfeng back to him. With how powerful immortal sects were, if even one of them wanted Fang Mo dead, not even the State Lord could protect him.
Fang Mo didn't know it, but he was overthinking. No immortal sect would waste precious time investigating the deaths of servant disciples. They were expendable, and replacements were easy to find.
***
Fang Mo stood in front of Ren Tingfeng's house, hesitation flickering across his face. He had promised Ren Shan he would return with his grandfather, but he hadn't been able to keep that promise. With a sigh, he stepped inside. Ren Shan had been sleeping, but as Fang Mo entered, the boy's eyelids fluttered and opened.
"Big Brother… where is Grandpa?" Ren Shan's lips quivered, and his face turned pale.
Fang Mo didn't answer right away. With how smart Ren Shan was, the boy already knew the truth. What he needed wasn't confirmation, but comfort. Fang Mo walked over, sat on the bed, and hugged Ren Shan.
"I'm sorry." He felt his wounded shoulder grow wet as heavy sobs filled the small house.