MTLNOVEL Chapter 380: First Fatalities Of The Expedition
With a twist of his body, Han Yu evaded the snapping jaws and brought the halberd down in a brutal arc, splitting through the beast's skull with a wet crunch.
He barely had time to breathe before a flock of crows dove at him, their feathers glinting like sharpened blades. With a surge of qi, he clenched his fist, sparks of spirit qi dancing across his knuckles.
"Bolt God Fist!"
He punched forward, energy bursting outward and shredding a dozen of the crows mid-air. Their crushed bodies plummeted into the swamp water, sputtering from their venom mixing in the water as they sank.
Nearby, disciples screamed as smaller beasts lunged at them from beneath the mire. Elders rushed to their aid, blades flashing, but even then, the tide pressed harder and harder.
And then, Han Yu saw it.
At the very edge of the marsh clearing, just beyond the fighting, a figure stood. Covered head to toe in black robes, their face hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask, the person exuded no qi fluctuations, no aura—yet their mere presence sent chills crawling down Han Yu's spine.
The masked figure raised one hand. Instantly, a group of beasts shifted direction, attacking in unison toward a cluster of disciples. It was no coincidence. It was control.
Han Yu's eyes widened. 'Someone is commanding them!'
But before he could shout a warning, the figure turned its head slightly, as if meeting Han Yu's gaze. Though the mask was blank, Han Yu felt a piercing weight in that moment, like invisible eyes staring straight into his soul.
And then, just as suddenly as they appeared, the figure was gone—vanishing into the fog with no trace left behind.
The beasts, however, did not relent. If anything, their ferocity increased, the marsh erupting into total chaos as disciples and elders alike struggled to hold the line.
Han Yu gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around his halberd.
'Whoever that was… this tide is no accident.'
The battle raged on into the night, the marsh echoing with roars, explosions, and the screams of both men and beasts.
.
.
.
The marsh was silent again.
Silent, but not peaceful.
The waters were stained red with blood, the reek of burnt feathers and charred flesh clinging to the mist. Broken corpses of beasts floated like discarded husks, their twitching movements gradually fading as the last sparks of life left them.
And among them, the disciples of the sect sat or lay sprawled on the mud, gasping for breath, clutching wounds, or staring blankly ahead in shock.
The ambush had lasted less than an hour, but its toll was greater than any battle they had endured since the beginning of the expedition.
Fifty disciples were gravely injured, their Dantians shaken or bodies poisoned, their cries of pain rising one after another as medics scrambled to treat them. And worse—three lay still and cold, their forms covered by hastily thrown cloaks.
The first fatalities.
A suffocating heaviness hung over the camp as the reality of it settled in. Until now, despite countless dangers, they had endured without losing anyone. Some had been hurt, others nearly crippled, but every disciple had always returned alive. That streak was broken tonight.
Han Yu stood at the edge of the encampment, his halberd buried in the mud beside him, and stared at the cloaked corpses. His expression was unreadable, but deep within, a heaviness gnawed at him.
'This is only the beginning…'
The memory of the masked figure lingered in his mind. That presence—it hadn't just been some beast tamer, not with the way the creatures moved in perfect synchronicity. Whoever that was, they had orchestrated the entire ambush with terrifying precision.
The elders, grim-faced and blood-splattered, gathered together in a tight circle some distance from the disciples. Their usual composure was shaken, voices low but sharp, their words carrying the weight of both anger and unease.
"This was no coincidence," one elder spat, slamming his hand against the haft of his sword. "Beasts don't coordinate like that—not in numbers so vast, and not with such timing. Someone is pulling the strings."
Several others nodded grimly.
"I felt it too," another elder, a woman with streaks of silver in her hair, said in a cold tone. "There was an intelligence behind their movements. They weren't acting on instinct."
"It is not just intelligence," the first elder growled. "It is control. And to command so many beasts of different species at once? That requires an ability we do not possess."
A tense silence followed, broken only by the distant wails of the injured disciples.
Finally, Elder Xun Lan spoke, his expression as unreadable as stone. "One of the disciples caught sight of someone amidst the fog. A masked figure. They vanished before any could pursue."
The elders turned sharply toward him, eyes narrowing.
"You saw them?" an elder demanded.
"Not I," Xun Lan said, his tone calm but weighty. "Han Yu."
For a moment, the circle shifted, their gazes turning toward the young man who stood apart from the others. He had not moved, his eyes still lingering on the covered corpses. Feeling the weight of their stares, Han Yu straightened and approached the circle, bowing respectfully.
"Speak," Elder Xun Lan commanded.
Han Yu took a breath, steadying himself before replying. "I saw them. Covered from head to toe in black robes, their face hidden behind a mask without features. They stood at the edge of the marsh, watching.
When they raised their hand, the beasts shifted in unison. They were not just leading them—they were controlling them. And then… they vanished. No trace. Not even a ripple of qi left behind."
The elders exchanged dark looks.
"To conceal one's presence from all of us… Even the Peak Heads..." one murmured. "Not a simple trick."
"This masked figure," another muttered, frowning deeply. "They were bold enough to strike us here even with the Peak Heads being with us... That means they knew our location. Which means…"
"There might be a traitor," the first elder said coldly. "Someone could be feeding them information."