Chapter 137: Bloodshadow Lizards
But none of that mattered now. The real problem was still unresolved, and Leo didn't have the patience to waste on idle thoughts. As for those low-grade herbs—anything under a century old was worthless for Foundation Establishment. You could pile up a mountain of them, and in the end, most would go straight to the sect. Maybe ten or twenty percent would come back to you as spirit stones, nothing more. A few minor sect disciples had been excited at first, gathering everything in sight. But after a while, even they stopped caring.
They hadn't walked far when they found a body sprawled among the rubble and weeds. Torn robes. A Palace disciple. Gale. One of the loose cultivators who had always stayed close to Leo. His body was bruised from falling rocks, but those weren't what killed him. The only wounds were four small puncture marks on his neck. His entire body was deathly pale. Waxy. Bloodless. Whatever had killed him had drained every drop of his blood.
"His storage pouch is still here. The herbs inside haven't been touched." Leo picked it up, glanced inside, and kept his voice low. "A blood-drinking demon beast. Has to be."
Vera and Quincy went pale. Other cultivators they could fight. But the unknown—that was different. A beast that drained its victims dry, leaving no struggle behind. Gale hadn't even fought back. That meant the creature was fast. Terrifyingly fast.
Nearly a month in the Bloody Battlefield—Gale had gathered a decent haul. Leo pocketed the herbs without a word. They kept moving, slower now, more cautious.
More screams echoed through the tunnels. They found Angus. Then two Ice Profound disciples. Same pale corpses. Same bloodless skin. Same puncture wounds.
Leo was certain now. The others who had fallen through the cave collapse were scattered somewhere nearby. But something else was down here with them. Something deadly. The corpses were proof enough.
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Thump. Thump.
Hiss—
A fight. Close.
Leo's face hardened. "Move."
Whatever this beast was, it was fast. That's why they hadn't caught up to it yet. And now someone was fighting it. They had to get there before it was too late. After the collapse, only Monty was strong enough to put up a fight. If anyone could hold their ground against this thing, it had to be him.
They ran. But by the time they arrived, it was over.
Two dark blue shapes flickered through the tall grass. Gone before they could get a clear look. Leo scanned the ground. A few drops of blood. A torn scrap of fabric. Almost missed it.
"Find something, Senior Brother Leo?" Vera's voice was quiet, curious. She had learned to trust his instincts. First with the Evil Valley ambush. Then with Monty. If not for the collapse, he would have led them straight to victory. She had seen it with her own eyes.
"Nothing yet. Too early to tell." Leo shook his head. A scrap of fabric wasn't enough. But if his guess was right—things might get interesting.
Vera's ears perked up. Movement in the grass. Leo raised a hand. Caution.
Rustle. The grass parted. A blue blur shot through—so fast Leo couldn't track it.
Vera and Quincy tensed. Neither had seen more than a dark blue shadow. And there was more than one. They were closing in.
Any ordinary cultivator would have felt fear. Not Leo. Years of life-and-death had forged something harder. The moment the shadow lunged, Leo struck. The Black Flood Dragon Shears shot forward.
Thud. Blue smoke exploded where the shears hit. Thicker than Smoke Mist Fruit. Harder to see through.
A pained hiss cut through the smoke.
Leo swept the haze aside with a Whirlwind Technique. Enough to clear his view.
"Ah!" Vera's protective shield cracked. Two dark blue lizards clung to it, their short claws digging deep into the light. One had a fresh wound—right where the shears had struck.
"Bloodshadow Lizards." Leo's face tightened.
These things fed on blood. Stored it in their bodies. Faster than most cultivators—only wind-attributed cultivators could match their speed. Intelligent, too. The way these two worked together, attacking Vera while she was already panicking, was no accident. Their scales were tough, too. Leo's Black Flood Dragon Shears had struck one of them squarely—but all it did was wound it. The thing could still fight.
Quincy lashed out with her golden whip, cracking it toward the lizard. But the creature was faster. One of them flicked to the side—clean dodge. The whip whistled through empty air. And now, with the lizard out of the way, Vera was standing right where the whip was coming down.