Chapter 386 - 383: Heavy Casualties
Chapter 386: Chapter 383: Heavy Casualties
"It’s over."
Fang Han stood with his sword in hand, slowly exhaling a turbid breath.
Over ninety percent of the Profound Wind Technique’s Inner Qi within him was depleted.
He glanced over at Yun Qianyue and Li Feng. Both were ashen-faced and on the verge of collapse.
Yun Qianyue didn’t speak, only offering a slight nod.
Her eyes, visible beyond her purple veil, rested on Fang Han for a moment before looking away.
Li Feng collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily. His long blade fell into a pool of blood with a CLANG.
He untied a waterskin from his waist, took a few large gulps, and then passed it to Fang Han and Yun Qianyue.
Fang Han accepted it, took a drink, and handed the waterskin to Yun Qianyue.
The three of them sat in silence amidst the wreckage of the gathering point.
In their ears, there was only the sound of the wind and the faint sound of crying from the distance.
After resting for a while, Fang Han consumed two True Spirit Pills, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.
The Profound Wind Technique slowly circulated, rapidly refining the Medicinal Power of the True Spirit Pills into Inner Qi to replenish his severely depleted reserves.
In the recent slaughter, he had killed no fewer than fifty Demons, including a Third-Grade Silver Wolf.
His Inner Qi was almost completely gone, and over a dozen new wounds covered his body. Though none were fatal, they left him feeling a bone-deep exhaustion.
Not far away, Yun Qianyue and Li Feng were also sitting cross-legged, fluctuations of Inner Qi surrounding them. They were clearly also using Cultivation to recover their Inner Qi.
Throughout the gathering point, people silently collected the remains of their companions, their movements gentle yet heavy.
Some knelt in pools of blood, their trembling hands closing the wide-open eyes of those they knew.
Low sobs drifted from all corners, intermittent and especially desolate in the night wind.
His Inner Qi restored, Fang Han opened his eyes. His gaze swept across the gathering point, which had been bustling and lively just yesterday but was now a scene of utter devastation.
Tents were strewn about, many reduced to charred husks.
The ground was soaked in blood, sticky and slick underfoot.
The air was thick with the overpowering stench of blood, mixed with the unique gaminess of Demons and a nauseating, burnt smell.
A disciple from the Qingxuan Sect staggered past, his left arm crudely bandaged with a strip of cloth that was completely soaked through with blood.
He kept his head down, his eyes vacant.
Farther away, several female disciples from Baihua Valley were gathered around the bodies of three young women.
Their dresses were saturated with blood, their faces as pale as paper. They would never wake again.
One of the female disciples knelt beside the corpses, her shoulders trembling slightly as suppressed, intermittent sobs escaped her.
Over by the Vajra Temple’s area, several monks sat cross-legged, chanting sutras in low voices.
Laid out before them were five bodies in tattered monks’ robes. The golden fabric had turned a dark red.
The sound of their chanting was low and mournful, drifting away on the morning breeze.
The Overlord Blade Sect, the Lingyun Sword Sect, Tingyu Building, the Netherworld Pavilion... everywhere, people were taking stock of their losses and collecting the bodies of their companions.
As Fang Han finished restoring his Inner Qi and opened his eyes, his heart felt heavy.
This battle had been too brutal.
All those lively faces, those young disciples who had been talking and Demon Hunting together just a short time ago, were now forever lost to this foreign mountain forest in a single night.
"Senior Brother Fang."
A cool voice sounded beside him.
Fang Han turned his head. Yun Qianyue had finished her meditation and walked over to his side.
Her eyes, visible beyond her purple veil, were now watching the busy figures in the gathering point, a flash of indescribable emotion within them.
"The casualties... I’m afraid they’re not light."
She said softly.
Fang Han nodded but didn’t speak.
Before long, a Qingxuan Sect disciple hurried over, bowed, and said, "Senior Brother Fang, Vice Hall Master Chen requests your presence, along with the other team leaders."
Fang Han stood up and looked at Yun Qianyue. "You rest here."
Yun Qianyue nodded slightly.
Fang Han followed the disciple toward the center of the gathering point.
Along the way, the gazes of Qingxuan Sect disciples fell upon him—gazes of awe and gratitude.
While protecting Yun Qianyue and Li Feng, he had also managed to save quite a few of his fellow sect members who were in danger.
In front of a relatively intact tent, Chen Wanjun stood with his hands behind his back.
His expression was calm, betraying no emotion, but deep within his eyes lay an unconcealable pain.
After a fierce battle to slay an extremely troublesome First-Grade Demon, even an expert of his caliber was greatly exhausted.
Yet at this moment, he still stood ramrod straight, like a javelin.
Five Elders stood by his side, all with solemn expressions.
The leaders of the various Qingxuan Sect teams began to arrive.
Luo Yuntian, Kuang Tu, Chen Wuhen, Su Yuwei, Liu Ruyan, Wang Miao, and Yang Zhe—the seven of them arrived one after another, all bearing injuries of varying degrees and looking grim.
Over a dozen Sect Stewards also arrived, most of them injured as well.
When Fang Han arrived, he walked to Luo Yuntian’s side and gave a slight nod as a greeting.
Luo Yuntian glanced at Fang Han, nodded back, and remained silent.
Chen Wanjun’s gaze swept over the crowd. He was silent for a moment before he finally spoke slowly.
"The casualty count is in."
His voice was low and tinged with hoarseness.
"In last night’s battle, a total of twenty-one disciples from our Qingxuan Sect fell."
Twenty-one.
The number landed like a stone in Fang Han’s heart.
Out of more than one hundred disciples, a full twenty-one had been lost in a single battle.
Those lively faces, those young disciples who had respectfully called him "Senior Brother Fang" just yesterday, those sect brothers and sisters who had come here for Demon Hunting full of hope...
Twenty-one lives, gone forever, left behind in this foreign mountain forest.
Luo Yuntian’s brow was tightly furrowed. He said nothing.
Kuang Tu clenched his fists, the muscles on his rugged face twitching slightly.
Chen Wuhen slowly closed his eyes.
Su Yuwei lowered her gaze, a trace of sorrow flashing in her cool eyes. Liu Ruyan pressed her lips together tightly.
Wang Miao’s face was pale.
Yang Zhe lowered his head.
Fang Han remained silent, feeling as if a giant rock was crushing his chest, heavy and suffocating.
He wasn’t close with the fallen disciples; he couldn’t even put a name to most of their faces.
But they were from the same sect, his fellow brothers who had walked out of the Qingxuan Sect alongside him.
People who were alive and well yesterday had become cold corpses tonight.
The feeling was incredibly heavy.
"The losses for every Sect were substantial."
Chen Wanjun continued, his voice low and steady, as if stating a fact he was reluctant to face.
"Vajra Temple, nineteen dead."
"Overlord Blade Sect, twenty-three dead."
"Lingyun Sword Sect, twenty-two dead."
"Baihua Valley, twenty-seven dead."
"Tingyu Building, twenty dead."
"Netherworld Pavilion, twenty-five dead."
"As for the military, more than one hundred Martial Artists have fallen."
Each number landed like a heavy hammer blow on everyone’s heart.
Among the Seven Sects, the Vajra Temple disciples, who specialized in Body Hardening Skills and had the strongest survival abilities, suffered the fewest losses, but they still lost nineteen disciples.
Baihua Valley suffered the most, losing twenty-seven people.
Adding the more than one hundred fallen Martial Artists from the military—
That night, more than two hundred people had died in this gathering point.
Two hundred lives.
Fang Han took a deep breath, suppressing the turbulent emotions in his heart.
But at the same time, a doubt quietly surfaced in his mind.
’Tonight’s attack was too strange.’
’The Cloud Mist Mountain Range is home to many Demons, but they’ve always kept to their own territories, never coordinating with one another.’
’For thousands upon thousands of Demons to unite for a night assault like this... it’s completely abnormal.’
’There must be a mastermind behind it all.’
’And whatever could mobilize so many Demons is definitely no ordinary demon.’
Fang Han looked up at Chen Wanjun.
Chen Wanjun’s deep eyes were fixed on the distant mountain forest, his expression complex.
He seemed to be pondering something as well.
After a moment, Chen Wanjun retracted his gaze, swept it over the crowd, and said in a heavy voice:
"What are your thoughts on tonight’s events?"
The crowd was silent for a moment.
Luo Yuntian was the first to speak, his voice steady.
"Vice Hall Master Chen, the number of Demons in tonight’s attack was far from ordinary. This disciple believes there must be something strange behind this incident."
Chen Wanjun nodded slightly, gesturing for him to continue.
Luo Yuntian paused to think for a moment, then continued.
"The Cloud Mist Mountain Range has many Demons, but they have always acted independently. To be able to mobilize so many to attack at once... I’m afraid there is only one possibility."
He paused here, looking toward Chen Wanjun.
Chen Wanjun nodded and finished his sentence for him.
"A more powerful Demon is pulling the strings from behind."
As soon as he said this, the atmosphere inside the tent grew several degrees heavier.
Kuang Tu’s brow furrowed, Chen Wuhen’s expression shifted slightly, Su Yuwei pressed her lips together, and a trace of fear flashed in Liu Ruyan’s eyes. Wang Miao and Yang Zhe exchanged a look, both seeing the horror in the other’s eyes.
Even Fang Han, who had already suspected as much, couldn’t help but feel a jolt in his heart.
Chen Wanjun’s gaze swept over the crowd as he said slowly:
"According to the judgment of the First-Grade experts from the Seven Sects and the military, the ability to mobilize so many Demons from the Cloud Mist Mountain Range and make them attack so frenziedly is beyond the capabilities of an ordinary First-Grade Demon."
He paused, his voice growing even lower.
"Deep within the Cloud Mist Mountain Range, it is highly likely... that a Grandmaster-level Demon has been born."
A Grandmaster-level Demon.
The moment those words registered, Fang Han felt a chill shoot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
His pupils contracted slightly, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Grandmaster Level.
That was a terrifying existence above the First Grade, powerful enough to establish its own sect.
The reason the Seven Sects were able to stand above the countless other powers in Qingyang County and become the region’s most top-level forces was precisely because each sect had a Grandmaster-level expert presiding over it.
And now, Chen Wanjun was telling them that a Grandmaster-level existence had also appeared among the Demons.
The muscles on Kuang Tu’s face twitched, and for the first time, unconcealable terror appeared in his rugged eyes.
The folding fan that never left Chen Wuhen’s hand snapped shut with a THWAP, his knuckles turning white from the force.
Su Yuwei’s face was pale as she subconsciously tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword.
Liu Ruyan pressed her lips together, the coolness in her eyes now replaced by dread.
Wang Miao and Yang Zhe were even more ashen-faced, speechless for a long moment.
Luo Yuntian’s brow was tightly furrowed, his expression also incredibly grave.
But he was the Eldest Senior Brother, after all. He quickly suppressed the shock in his heart and asked in a low voice:
"Vice Hall Master Chen, if a Grandmaster-level Demon has likely appeared in the depths of the Cloud Mist Mountain Range, then what should we do next?"