Chapter 284: The Pill Room

Feed pigs?

Mo Hua was momentarily stunned, his brows slowly furrowing.

He had wandered around Black Mountain Stronghold for quite some time, yet he didn’t recall seeing any pigs anywhere…

And these Demonic Cultivators—what would they be raising pigs for?

Surely not to eat them, right?

Then what kind of pigs were these?

Spirit beasts, perhaps?

For some reason, Mo Hua suddenly became particularly curious.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the phrase “feeding pigs” sounded oddly sinister within Black Mountain Stronghold.

“Should I take a look?”

He looked up at the darkening sky—night had just fallen.

There was still time. He could take a quick look, and then slip away quietly once it grew late.

He couldn’t stay in this place any longer.

Decision made, Mo Hua concealed himself once again and silently followed Scarface.

Scarface stuffed Kong Sheng’s body into a sack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked away, leaving a trail of blood that stretched all the way to the rear stronghold’s gate.

He pushed the door open and entered.

Mo Hua’s gaze sharpened, his brows knitting together.

So it was in the rear stronghold—no wonder he had never seen it before.

“Should I go in?”

Both the Third and Fourth Leaders—Foundation Establishment Demonic Cultivators—lived in the rear stronghold. Mo Hua’s concealment could deceive their Divine Sense for a time, but if he made even the slightest mistake, he might expose himself.

Just then, he heard Scarface speak with another old Demonic Cultivator:

“Is the Third Leader in? I brought the goods.”

Kong Sheng’s corpse—just a “thing.” Not even worth calling a person.

Then again, perhaps in the eyes of these Demonic Cultivators, every dead cultivator in Black Mountain Stronghold was nothing more than an “object.”

The old Demonic Cultivator rasped, “The Third Leader just stepped out, and the Fourth Leader isn’t here either. But the key’s with me—I’ll open it for you.”

Mo Hua froze for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

Both leaders were gone—that meant he could get inside!

He’d been itching to know what was hidden in the rear stronghold. Now, he finally had the chance.

The old man led Scarface deeper into the compound until they reached a massive bronze gate—beast-faced, fanged, and exuding an ominous weight.

From his robe, the old man produced a small white skull and inserted it into the beast’s mouth.

The patterns etched upon the bronze door began to glow blood-red, light coursing through them and converging toward the beast’s maw.

It was like watching blood flow into a monster’s mouth.

Once the beast had “drunk its fill,” it opened its jaws wide—and the bronze doors creaked open with a thunderous boom.

Mo Hua’s eyelid twitched violently.

That formation—!

It was no orthodox Five Elements formation.

Not even any standard Daoist array.

It was a true demonic array.

Those glowing red lines—weren’t made from beast blood, but human blood.

That skull—it wasn’t from a monster, but a human skull.

To study demonic arrays was no different from cultivating demonic arts—it was a capital crime under Dao Court law, punishable by execution upon discovery.

A gate guarded by such a formation—what could possibly lie beyond it?

Could this be where Black Mountain Stronghold’s real secret was hidden?

Mo Hua had long suspected that this gathering of Demonic Cultivators wasn’t merely a search for shelter.

Perhaps the First Leader had built this place for some other purpose.

And that purpose—was it concealed right behind that bronze door?

Mo Hua’s heart pounded with nervous anticipation.

The old Demonic Cultivator pushed the door open and said, “Go on in.”

Scarface seemed familiar with the place. He nodded, hefted the sack, and entered.

The old man stayed outside.

His cultivation was only at the ninth layer of Qi-Refining—he couldn’t possibly see through Mo Hua’s concealment technique.

So long as no Foundation Establishment cultivator was present, these Qi-Refining Demonic Cultivators were essentially blind before Mo Hua.

Mo Hua cautiously extended his Divine Sense through the gate.

Inside, there was only one living presence—Scarface. No hidden traps, no alert arrays.

Relieved, he slipped quietly through the door.

The moment he entered, a heavy stench of blood assaulted his senses.

A faint, misty haze of crimson hung in the air, mingled with a thick, putrid smell of rot and decay.

The scent itself didn’t surprise Mo Hua—Black Mountain Stronghold reeked of blood everywhere. But here… the stench was worse.

What startled him was the chamber’s arrangement.

Before him stood a massive pill furnace—white in color, seemingly made of bone.

Beneath it burned a ghastly green ghost flame, flickering eerily as it licked the furnace’s surface.

Something inside was being refined—sizzling faintly.

Around the furnace were scattered ingredients of every imaginable shape and hue.

Some of them looked alive—their stems writhing like worms, their leaves pulsing open and shut, occasionally even letting out faint, agonized screams.

The entire room was a Pill Refining Chamber—a blood-stained, nightmarishly sinister alchemical room.

Just looking at it made Mo Hua’s skin crawl.

“What kind of pills are these Demonic Cultivators trying to make?”

He frowned, puzzled.

Then a voice broke his thoughts:

“This pig eats like a disgusting beast!”

Mo Hua followed the sound—sure enough, behind the furnace stood Scarface, and before him…

A massive pig demon.

The creature was four men tall, its eyes glowing red, drool dripping like blood from its tusked maw. Its skin was covered in blood-streaked patches, its body grotesque and twisted.

Scarface was feeding it—stuffing Kong Sheng’s corpse into its mouth.

The pig demon looked simple-minded, almost dull—focused solely on eating.

Mo Hua was utterly baffled.

Pill refining was one thing, but why raise a pig in the pill chamber?

What in the heavens was it for?

Before he could make sense of it, his heart skipped…

His Divine Sense detected someone approaching.

The presence was powerful, veiled, and fathomless—the Third Leader.

Mo Hua instantly used Flowing-Water Step, darting soundlessly onto a wide ceiling beam, lying flat and holding his breath.

Moments later, the Third Leader entered.

Scarface, seeing him, bowed deeply.

“Third Leader.”

The Third Leader glanced at him feeding the pig and nodded. “You may go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scarface bowed again and left.

Now only the Third Leader remained in the pill chamber—and the hidden Mo Hua crouched silently above.

Mo Hua’s heart raced.

“Didn’t they say he’d gone out? Why is he back already?”

Perhaps he’d only stepped away briefly and had now returned?

If he stayed here long… Mo Hua might never get a chance to leave.

His chest tightened at the thought.

A while passed—no sound came from below.

Mo Hua cautiously peeked down from the beam.

His gaze swept past the furnace, past the pig demon—and landed on the Third Leader.

Startled, Mo Hua quickly ducked back, pressing himself flat, barely daring to breathe.

Seconds passed—no reaction.

“He didn’t sense my gaze?”

Perplexed, Mo Hua risked another quick glance, then pulled back again.

Still no reaction.

Then it clicked.

The Fourth Leader had weaker Divine Sense but heightened physical perception—he could feel being watched.

The Third Leader was the opposite: his Divine Sense was formidable, but his body lacked that beastlike sensitivity.

As long as Mo Hua’s intent carried no hostility, he wouldn’t be detected.

Mo Hua quietly exhaled.

Good.

Otherwise, his situation would’ve been far worse.

Still curious, he peeked again—What was the Third Leader doing here so late?

He sat cross-legged upon a meditation cushion, eyes closed, aura calm and steady.

It seemed he was meditating.

So far, nothing strange.

He sat there in perfect composure—utterly unaware that, in this supposedly impenetrable stronghold and its sinister, blood-soaked pill chamber, a small hidden cultivator was peering down at him with wide, curious eyes.

After a while, the Third Leader opened his eyes and withdrew a scroll from his storage pouch.

He spread it out before him.

Forming hand seals, he sat in a meditative posture, focusing intently on the picture.

From his angle, Mo Hua couldn’t see the painting’s content, but—

Even so, his heart thudded with realization.

A visualization diagram?!

Could it be that the Third Leader was actually comprehending a Visualization Diagram right now?!

(End of Chapter)