18: Two Clearing Evils

The air in the Herb Garden was as thick as congealed blood, a strong, pungent smell of blood mixed with the scent of crushed herbs, forming a nauseatingly sweet and bloody odor.

Vomiting sounds, suppressed sobs, and teeth chattering could be heard from the various corners of the straw sheds and medicine racks in the distance.

On the faces of every surviving Disciple of the Herb Garden, there was only the pale pallor of having escaped a disaster and a bone-deep fear, their gazes fixed on the slaughterhouse in the center of the Herb Garden, as if nailed to the spot by invisible nails, not daring to move.

Mo Yuan stood at the edge of the pool of blood, the hem of his grey robe stained with a few dark red marks, like blooming flowers of death.

His face was still pale, but his back was ramrod straight, like a cold battle flag planted in a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

The Ant King's massive body, like a loyal bronze fortress, stood beside him, its siege-hammer-like mandibles dripping with viscous blood mixed with tiny bone fragments and minced flesh, slowly falling and creating small, dark red dots on the muddy ground.

Its lava-like compound eyes slowly scanned the cowering figures, emitting a low roar of threat like muffled thunder from its throat; each growl made the distant figures tremble like sieves.

"Mo Sect's rules are established today."

"Those who obey shall prosper; those who defy… shall perish!"

The cold voice, like a poisoned ice pick, once again fiercely pierced into the hearts of every survivor.

There was no cheering, no questioning, only a dead silence of submission and a bone-deep chill.

Just as this bloody silence was about to solidify—

At the entrance of the Herb Garden, on the muddy path trampled by the Ant King and stained with flesh and blood remnants, a figure appeared silently.

There were no footsteps, no fluctuations in aura, as if he had always stood there, integrated into this bloody background.

He wore a grey Disciple's robe, washed until it was faded, even a bit worn, yet exceptionally neat.

His figure was slender, neither tall nor short.

His face was ordinary, calm, with a hint of the characteristic dullness of a youth.

It was Han Li!

He stood there so abruptly, completely out of place in this bloody land where the slaughter had just ended.

He slightly lowered his head, his fringe covering half of his eyes, making his specific expression unclear.

However, an invisible, cold and heavy pressure, like mercury spreading across the ground, instantly permeated the area, even temporarily overwhelming the Ant King's violent and malevolent Qi!

The Herb Garden Disciples, originally enveloped in fear and almost suffocating, felt as if they had been thrown into an ice cave, their bodies trembling even more violently.

They didn't even dare to look at the grey-robed youth who had suddenly appeared, only burying their heads lower, wishing they could burrow into the ground.

A deeper, more indescribable fear seized them—compared to the violent bronze behemoth, the aura emanating from this silent youth was even more heart-stopping!

Mo Yuan's pupils suddenly constricted!

Han Li! He actually appeared at this time and place!

And it was right after he had established his authority and slaughtered Zhang Wanchun!

The Ant King's massive body abruptly turned towards the entrance, its lava-like compound eyes instantly locking onto Han Li, and a roar even more violent than before erupted from its throat!

A primal perception of a powerful threat, originating from a sequential creature's instinct, instantly sent it into maximum alert!

Its heavy segmented limbs anxiously scraped the ground, leaving deep furrows, and its huge mandibles opened and closed with a teeth-grinding "crunch," splashing viscous blood!

"Roar—!!!" The roar, full of warning and violent killing intent, was like a tangible sound wave, fiercely charging towards the slender figure at the entrance!

Han Li, however, acted as if he hadn't heard it.

He didn't even raise his head to glance at the terrifying behemoth that could tear him to shreds at any moment.

He merely slowly, extremely slowly, raised his left hand.

His movements were light, steady, as if he were just brushing away non-existent dust from his sleeve.

However, when his left hand was fully raised, Mo Yuan's heart felt as if it had been fiercely clutched by an invisible, cold giant hand, instantly stopping its beat!

In Han Li's slightly rough, clearly jointed palm, a small bottle lay quietly.

A small green bottle, emerald green and dripping, as if carved from the purest jade—the little green bottle!

The bottle was no more than three inches tall, ancient in style, without any complex patterns, yet it exuded an indescribable Dao rhyme, as if containing the pure vitality of the world's genesis!

A layer of extremely soft, warm, and vibrant emerald green halo flowed and rippled on the bottle's surface, like breathing.

This light was not dazzling, yet it seemed capable of cleansing all defilement in the world and illuminating the deepest corners of the human heart!

The moment the little green bottle appeared!

Buzz—!!!

In Mo Yuan's embrace, the deep-seated, silent, pitch-black magic bottle hidden within his robe suddenly erupted with an unprecedented violent tremor!

A strong emotion, a mixture of craving, greed, and a certain bone-deep—fear—like a tsunami, fiercely impacted Mo Yuan's consciousness through the Soul link!

The few dim silver-purple lightning patterns on the pitch-black magic bottle's body flickered wildly, as if silently contending with the emerald green light!

Inside the bottle, countless chaotic, suppressed roars seemed to be raging!

A primal desire to devour that emerald vitality, and an even stronger fear of escaping the purification of that emerald light, intertwined, making the magic bottle in Mo Yuan's embrace struggle violently like a live fish thrown into boiling oil!

The magic bottle against the green bottle! Sequential Origin against the vitality of the Great Dao!

Natural sworn enemies! Irreconcilable opposition!

Mo Yuan grunted, his face instantly turning even paler, and fine cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

He forcibly suppressed the violent unrest of the magic bottle in his embrace, his right hand instinctively pressing against the front of his robe over his chest, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

Han Li finally raised his head.

Beneath his fringe, those eyes, calm as a deep pool, now resembled the most precise probes, piercing through the distance of space, piercing through the bloody mist, and landing with extreme precision on Mo Yuan's right hand pressing against his chest, on his Thunder Corpse Claw, which was entwined with an aura of deathly stillness but now trembled slightly due to the magic bottle's agitation.

His gaze was calm, devoid of any anger or killing intent, only a cold, all-penetrating understanding.

Then, Han Li's lips moved.

His voice was not loud, even somewhat flat, yet it was like ice beads striking a jade plate, clearly penetrating the dead silence of the Herb Garden; each word carried immense weight, fiercely striking Mo Yuan's heart:

"demonic liquid."

"Whence did it come?"

Two words, two questions. Straight to the core! Simple, cold, unavoidable!

He knew! He had indeed seen it! Perhaps even touched remnants of the demonic liquid!

He had come, holding the little green bottle, for an answer! An answer about that life-twisting, unnatural creation sequence!

Mo Yuan's nerves instantly tensed to the extreme!

A cold chill shot straight from his tailbone to the top of his head!

All his previous schemes and displays of authority seemed so pale and powerless before these two questions that struck at the Origin!

Han Li didn't need proof; his very existence, the little green bottle in his hand, was the greatest threat!

Once mishandled, the outcome would immediately be an unending struggle to the death!

What to do?!

Mo Yuan's mind was like boiling oil thrown into ice water, instantly churning with tumultuous waves!

Countless thoughts flashed like lightning!

Deny it? Meaningless before Han Li!

Explain the magic bottle? That would be courting death!

Change the subject? The other party wouldn't even listen!

Just at this critical moment of life and death!

A cold thought, tinged with self-mockery and determination, like a bolt of lightning in the darkness, instantly split through Mo Yuan's chaotic thoughts!

Evil Path cultivation! Backlash!

Among Mo Juren's memory fragments, that incomplete Evil Path Body Refining Secret Manual, the "Corpse Rotting Manual," which he had shelved and regarded as useless!

This cultivation method used corpse poison to Cultivate the Body, incredibly malicious and highly prone to backlash!

And the existence of the Demonic Silver Hand was the best "evidence"!

Divert the blame! Use the name of evil cultivation to cover up the reality of the magic bottle!

A nearly mad light of determination instantly erupted in Mo Yuan's eyes!

He didn't hesitate at all, as if he had long prepared his words!

"Heh…" A hoarse, cold laugh, filled with endless exhaustion and self-mockery, squeezed out of Mo Yuan's throat.

His right hand, which had been pressing against his chest, sharply withdrew, and at the same time, it shot into his embrace like lightning!

A thin, ancient booklet with a dark yellow cover, severely worn edges, and exuding a chilling, moldy scent, was pulled out by him!

On the cover of the booklet, three ominous ancient seal characters, written in a dark red, dried blood-like pigment, were crookedly inscribed—"Corpse Rotting Manual"!

Mo Yuan's wrist suddenly flicked!

Whoosh!

The "Corpse Rotting Manual," exuding an evil aura, like discarded trash, drew a dark yellow arc in the air and, with a "thud," landed with extreme precision not far from Han Li, in the foul blood puddle formed by Zhang Wanchun's remains, mixed with flesh, bone fragments, and mud!

The dark yellow booklet was instantly soaked by the viscous, foul-smelling blood, and several ferocious bloody characters faintly appeared in the dirty blood.

"This object!" Mo Yuan's voice suddenly rose, carrying a hoarseness and anger as if driven to desperation, yet also containing a cold self-mockery of having seen through life and death, clearly echoing throughout the entire Herb Garden, "Is the answer you seek!"

He abruptly raised his left hand, the Thunder Corpse Claw, which was entwined with silver-grey lightning arcs, inscribed with purple lightning patterns, and exuded a strong aura of corpse poison and deathly stillness!

He displayed it unreservedly in the sight of Han Li and all the survivors!

"The 'Corpse Rotting Manual'! It uses corpse poison to Cultivate the Body, extremely malicious! This old man made a mistake, suffered its backlash! This hand…" Mo Yuan's voice carried a bone-deep pain and resentment as he pointed to the ferocious metallic ghost claw, "Is the price! Suffering the pain of corpse poison gnawing at my bones and piercing my heart day and night! It's worse than death!"

His gaze was fixed on Han Li's calm eyes, every word squeezed out as if from between clenched teeth, filled with bitter hatred: "That so-called 'demonic liquid'… is merely the foul, poisonous blood that this old man, to suppress the backlash and prolong his miserable existence, cultivated with evil cultivation Secret Manuals… It is an outward manifestation of the evil cultivation's backlash! It is the pus flowing from this neither-human-nor-ghost body!"

He suddenly pointed to the Ant King next to him, which resembled a bronze demon god, and then, as if inadvertently, swept his gaze over the Herb Garden Disciples in the distance who were still vomiting and trembling, his voice carrying a destructive madness: "As for them… and those monsters in the rumors… they are merely beasts that mutated by accidentally coming into contact with the evil blood when this old man was eroded by corpse poison, his mind was muddled, and the evil cultivation ran wild… They are the endless calamities brought by this evil cultivation's backlash!"

Mo Yuan took a deep breath, as if expending all his strength, his voice suddenly becoming bone-chillingly cold, like a final judgment:

"For Zhang Tie's matter, this old man took the blame for you, bringing disaster upon himself and ending up in this state!"

"Now, this evil cultivation Secret Manual is yours!"

"Between you and me…"

Mo Yuan's gaze, like a sharp blade tempered by ten thousand years of cold ice, pierced directly into Han Li:

"We are even!"

Boom—!!!

It was like a clap of thunder exploding over the silent Herb Garden!

All the surviving Herb Garden Disciples were stunned!

Their terrified gazes frantically swept between Mo Yuan's ferocious ghost claw, the ominous "Corpse Rotting Manual" in the pool of blood, and the emerald green little bottle in Han Li's palm!

Evil cultivation backlash! Doctor Mo's (Mo Yuan's) terrifying power and ability to command monsters were actually the result of Cultivating the "Corpse Rotting Manual" and losing control due to its backlash?!

That so-called "demonic liquid" was just his poisonous blood to suppress the backlash?

Those monsters were beasts that mutated after coming into contact with the poisonous blood?!

And Han Li… Han Li was actually connected to the missing Zhang Tie?!

The immense amount of information and the subversive "truth," like a violent hurricane, instantly destroyed their original perceptions!

Fear, shock, bewilderment, and a profound, unfathomable suspicion towards Han Li… all these emotions intertwined, leaving their minds blank!

Han Li stood rooted to the spot, like a clay or wooden sculpture.

On his ordinary, calm face, there was no expression.

His fringe covered his eyes, preventing anyone from seeing his current gaze.

Only his left hand, holding the emerald green little bottle, seemed to have tightened its grip ever so slightly… for an instant.

His gaze slowly moved from Mo Yuan's ferocious Thunder Corpse Claw, falling upon the "Corpse Rotting Manual" soaked in dirty blood in the blood puddle.

The dark yellow pages half-floated, half-sank in the viscous blood, and the dark red characters "Corpse Rotting Manual," illuminated by the emerald green light of the bottle, appeared exceptionally dazzling and eerie.

The wind, at some unknown moment, blew through the Herb Garden, carrying the strong smell of blood and the bitter scent of crushed herbs.

It stirred the fringe on Han Li's forehead and the hem of Mo Yuan's grey robe.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

In the center of the Herb Garden, one person held a green bottle, the other stood in a pool of blood.

Between them was the evil cultivation Secret Manual immersed in dirty blood.

In the distance were the silent survivors and the bronze behemoth exuding fierce power.

Dead silence, like tangible cold ice, enveloped this land that had just been bathed in blood.

Only the whimpering sound of the wind blowing through the broken medicine racks and the faint, suppressed chattering of teeth from the Disciples in the distance could be heard.

Han Li remained silent, like an abyss.