At the foot of Screen Mountain.
At this moment, seven teams were winding their way from all directions, eventually converging onto the mountain path. Most of these teams were led by a single person holding a hand drum, shaking it occasionally.
Aside from the leaders, most of the people in the teams had dull expressions and lifeless eyes, following behind their leaders like walking corpses.
However, there were exceptions. Among these seven teams, one was led by two people. One was a man in white with a sharp, monkey-like face; his right arm was severed from the elbow down, currently wrapped in white cloth.
He spoke nonchalantly to the other leader beside him, a middle-aged man in green, while his shifty eyes continuously scanned the surroundings in a cautious and vigilant manner.
"Junior Brother, I'm not saying this to criticize you, but you're being far too paranoid. Did you lose your nerve after that single battle?" spoke the middle-aged man in green.
"Senior Brother, you weren't there. That person's saber qi was simply inconceivable. If I hadn't possessed exquisite Daoist arts, how could I be alive right now?" the man in white replied with an eye roll.
"Heh, I think it's clearly because your skills are lacking. Having your entire foundation raided this time is one thing, but losing those twenty-odd human sacrifices is another. I don't think Lord Red-Faced Ghost will let you off easily."
Hearing the mention of "Red-Faced Ghost," the man in white couldn't help but shudder, hurriedly leaning in to whisper into the other's ear.
After listening, the middle-aged man in green revealed a satisfied smile and nodded. "I'll say you're sensible. Anyway, I've captured more than a dozen extra people myself. Since you're sharing these benefits with me, I'll set aside ten human sacrifices for you later so you can fulfill your quota. But you mustn't go back on your promises regarding those other things."
The man in white immediately patted his chest and said, "Rest assured, Senior Brother! I, Cheng San, have always been a man of my word!"
"Mhm." In high spirits from this opportunistic looting, the middle-aged man in green patted his shoulder and laughed. "Junior Brother Cheng, you're actually good in every way, except you're too cowardly. We eight brothers of the Corpse Ghost Sect are here. If the person who injured you doesn't show up, fine; but if they do, I guarantee we'll make sure they never return!"
Cheng San smiled obsequiously. "Senior Brother's divine powers are astounding. Even if that person comes, there's no need for all eight of us to join hands. You could settle her single-handedly with just your sword, letting her know the true methods of our Corpse Ghost Sect!"
"You're nothing but a flatterer!" the middle-aged man in green scolded with a laugh, though his face wore a proud smile, clearly enjoying the flattery.
While they were conversing, the seven teams had merged into one, totaling over a hundred people. They began their grand ascent up the mountain path of Screen Mountain.
Not far from them, on a steep rock face of Screen Mountain, a man and a woman were currently crouching.
The man wore gray hemp clothes, while the woman wore coarse peasant clothing, with a few embroidered patches attached.
These two were, naturally, the hurriedly arrived Liang Yan and Li Xiran. Li Xiran had specifically changed her attire, moving away from her previous black clothing to a village girl's look, though her charming and lovely features could not be hidden by any disguise.
"These leaders are only at the second or third level of Qi Refinement; they haven't even crossed the first threshold of the Qi Refinement stage. It seems they aren't worth fearing, but I wonder what the cultivation level of this 'Red-Faced Ghost' is..."
Liang Yan lay on the giant rock, carefully observing the enemy intelligence below, calculating the details and strategies for their upcoming action, when he suddenly heard heavy breathing beside him.
He turned his head and saw Li Xiran staring at the crowd below, her eyes wide with fury, looking as if she might breathe fire.
Liang Yan thought to himself, *"Oh no!"* Sure enough, he saw Li Xiran reaching into her storage bag to draw her blade.
"Don't! Heroine! Let's endure for a moment. These people aren't in immediate mortal danger yet," Liang Yan said, hurriedly pressing her hand down.
Li Xiran turned to glare at Liang Yan. "Why are you stopping me? Once I go down with my blade, I'll end the lives of these wicked scum!"
Liang Yan sighed. "If we're going to save people, we save them all the way. These people haven't been away from Screen City for more than half an hour; they aren't in danger yet. Once we follow them quietly and find their lair, it won't be too late to rescue everyone inside!"
The hilt of Li Xiran's blade had already been partially drawn from the storage bag. Hearing Liang Yan's words, she finally managed to forcibly suppress her rage, though her chest heaved violently as she struggled to restrain herself.
While they were speaking, the procession passed directly beneath them on the mountain path, leaving only the last dozen or so people trailing at the rear. Liang Yan gave Li Xiran a look, and both of them simultaneously flipped off the giant rock, landing lightly at the end of the line without making a single sound.
As soon as they entered the group, their eyes went dull and their expressions became wooden, making them indistinguishable from the others in the procession.
The leader of the final group was a short, stout young man dressed in black with a black hat. He seemed to sense something and looked back suspiciously, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he shook his head and continued leading the way.
Liang Yan and Li Xiran blended into the back of the crowd, following the main force up Screen Mountain.
After about half an hour, the procession suddenly stopped halfway up the mountain. The leader changed direction, no longer following the mountain path but heading toward a nearby forest. The cultivators behind him also shook their hand drums, changing the direction of the march into the woods.
The group walked through the forest for about the time it takes to burn an incense stick before the ground suddenly opened up into a large clearing.
In the clearing stood eight massive, glowing red iron pillars, positioned at the east, south, west, north, and the four diagonal directions. Each pillar held a massive brazier with raging flames; it was unclear what was being burned, but a foul stench wafted from them.
The eight pillars formed a circle, and in the center of the clearing sat a prayer mat. On the mat, a large man in red was sleeping.
The man was a strange sight: his face was as red as a ripe jujube, his arms were corded with thick muscle, and he stood over nine feet tall, nearly twice the height of an ordinary person. He was currently snoring loudly while clutching a wine jar the size of a water vat, looking like a massive mountain of flesh.
"Eighth level of Qi Refinement!"
Liang Yan was startled. He hadn't expected this Red-Faced Ghost to be anything like the useless fools under his command.
One must know that Qi Refinement cultivators face three major hurdles, none of which are easily crossed. The second hurdle is the advancement from the 7th to the 8th level. Once a cultivator breaks through, their entire spiritual power becomes incredibly pure, and the power of their spells increases exponentially; it is far more than a simple difference in minor realms.
Generally, ordinary cultivators cannot fly or manipulate objects until they reach the eighth level of Qi Refinement because the purity of the spiritual power in their bodies is insufficient. Of course, Zhuo Bufan of the Yixing Pavilion was an exception due to his status as a sword cultivator.
While Liang Yan was secretly calculating, the eight leading cultivators waved their hand drums, and everyone stopped in their tracks. Then, the eight of them simultaneously prostrated themselves on the ground, saying respectfully to the red-faced man in the center, "Lord Red-Faced Ghost, the human sacrifices you requested have been brought."
After the eight spoke, the red-faced man in the middle seemed not to have heard them, continuing to snore on the mat. However, the crowd did not dare to be negligent, maintaining their prostrate position without daring to move a muscle.
After a long while, the red-faced man suddenly let out a loud snort, slowly opened his eyes, lifted the water-vat-sized wine jar from his arms, and poured some into his mouth.
"Out of wine again!" Red-Faced Ghost said, throwing the wine jar toward the crowd.
With a *thud*, one unlucky soul was struck, his head bleeding, yet he remained prostrate on the ground, not daring to utter a single sound.
Another cultivator hurriedly crawled forward a few steps and said in a panic, "Please calm your anger, Lord! Once this matter is concluded, we will certainly go down the mountain to procure plenty of fine wine for you. We beg you to bear with it for a moment!"
"Haha, you're the only sensible one who knows how to show respect to this master!" Red-Faced Ghost laughed loudly.
He rubbed his half-closed eyelids, stood up from the mat, and swept his gaze across the crowd behind them. Suddenly, he frowned. "Why are some people missing!"
As soon as he spoke, Cheng San immediately crawled out from the crowd, his voice trembling. "Please calm your anger, Lord. I encountered a powerful opponent at the foot of the mountain who forcibly rescued a group of human sacrifices. However, this subordinate has replenished ten people from elsewhere; it should be just enough."
"Just enough?"
Red-Faced Ghost first raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "Mhm, you are correct."
Cheng San was overjoyed and looked up, intending to say more, only to find in terror that Red-Faced Ghost was already standing before him, staring at him with a sinister gaze.
Before he could speak, Red-Faced Ghost pierced his dantian with one hand and twisted his neck with the other, tearing his head clean off.
Then, with a lift of his hands, he tossed Cheng San's corpse into a brazier. The flames in the brazier instantly flared up, the core of the fire emitting a ghostly blue light.
"It is indeed enough!" Red-Faced Ghost laughed. "If you count yourself."