It didn’t take long for him to reach a random remote street corner, where he stopped, apparently waiting for something. After the space of two breaths passed, a collection of ripples shot through the air toward him. Behind the ripples were ten figures that looked exactly like him, their faces cold as they pursued the ripples.
Wu Mu was scared witless. He was a member of the Crow Scout Tribe from the Western Desert, and a member of the forces participating in the Black Lands Palace’s great war 1. He was one of the several hundred Cultivators who had survived the Thorn Rampart earlier. Because he possessed wood type totems, he had been dispatched into the city this night on an assassination mission.
There were a dozen or so who came with him. He wasn’t too sure the level of their Cultivation bases, but he was in the late Core Formation stage. That, coupled with the secret techniques of his Tribe, and his wood type totems, made it so that even a Nascent Soul Cultivator would have a hard time piercing his concealment technique.
How could he ever have imagined that as soon as he entered the city, the first person he ran into would be none other than Grandmaster Meng, the person who had summoned the Thorn Rampart? He had assumed that because of his wood type totems, the Thorn Rampart wouldn’t be able to detect him, and as such, had chosen to attack.
In his view, if he was able to kill the mysterious Grandmaster Meng, it would count as an incredible battle achievement. After returning to his Tribe, he would definitely be well rewarded. Even if he wasn’t able to kill him, he could at least wound him. Either way, he was completely confident of the safety of making an attack.
How could he ever have guessed that what he attacked was not Grandmaster Meng’s true self, but rather a clone? That in itself caused him to gape in astonishment, and filled his heart with fear. He had fled at top speed, cursing Meng Hao for coming out in the middle of the night in clone form.
After that, his fear had grown even greater when suddenly ten clones of Grandmaster Meng appeared, all of whom chased him relentlessly, cutting him off at every turn. If it weren’t for his special techniques used for concealment and retreat, coupled with his wood type totems, he would have been captured already.
It was as he went all out to flee from the clones when he suddenly saw Meng Hao standing up ahead.
“Dammit,” he thought, “this Grandmaster Meng doesn’t just concoct pills, he also has a lightning technique AND is proficient with using clones. How could someone as inhuman as him exist in the world!?”
He cursed inwardly as he looked at Meng Hao, who stood there with a look of contempt in his eyes.
“Well, he might have some weird techniques, but he’s not good enough to capture me!” Wu Mu snorted coldly, his body flashing as he waved his sleeve, causing the ripples surrounding him to shoot out toward what he assumed was another clone. This was the same method he had used previously to disperse other clones.
As Wu Mu descended upon Meng Hao, he suddenly heard him speak. “There really is a lot to learn about the Dao of totems.”
Before Wu Mu could react to the words, he saw the Meng Hao in front of him lift up his hand and point toward him.
A boom resonated out as an invisible, tearing force surrounded Wu Mu. His heart filled with astonishment, and he was about to retreat when suddenly, a bloody glow filled the area. The glow permeated his body, ripping away the layers of invisibility around him, revealing him to the world.
“Not a clone!” he thought, his mind spinning. His face was ghastly pale, and he was about to employ another magical technique, when Meng Hao gazed into his eyes. His gaze seemed to contain the power of Time; Wu Mu’s mind reeled, as if he had lost the ability to even think. Everything suddenly seemed to slow down, as if the Time within his body had suddenly changed.
When he came to his senses, he saw Meng Hao’s right hand ripping through the air to latch around his throat. Everything went black as Wu Mu passed into unconsciousness.
Meng Hao held Wu Mu up in his hand. The entire time, his expression hadn’t changed. He slowly walked back down the street. Behind him, the ten Demonic Qi clones faded into nothing. At the same time, a wooden slip flew over, which Meng Hao took. He glanced at it, then walked off into the distance, carrying Wu Mu in one arm.
It was not a peaceful, quiet night in Holy Snow City. Over fifty assassinations occurred; even some members of the Frigid Snow Clan died.
Eventually the four Grand Elders unleashed the power of their Cultivation bases. Explosions rang out in the night sky, all the way until morning.
The chaos outside didn’t affect Meng Hao in his courtyard. He extracted some blood from Wu Mu and also vivisected his totem tattoos to study them.