Immortality Cultivation: I Can increase My Stats Using Clansmen's Qi-Blood

Chapter 840: Vengeance, Vengeance!



The four of them advanced in the darkness, and after about an incense stick's worth of time, they encountered a massive Stone Gate blocking their path.

"This must be the place where the hostages are being held," came the voice of Mo Han's uncle, echoing in the dark.

He stepped forward to push open the Stone Gate, and a cold, eerie air hit them, mixed with the sounds of wailing and sobbing.

Behind the Stone Gate was a large cell where dozens of people were imprisoned, all dressed in tattered clothes, emaciated, their eyes full of despair, clearly having been detained for a long time and tortured.

"We're here to rescue you!" Mo Han said softly, with a touch of excitement in his voice.

The people in the cell, upon hearing the voice, raised their heads, and the previously dull eyes suddenly lit up with hope, like drowning people clinging to a lifeline.

"That's great, finally someone has come to save us!"

"We're saved! We don't have to die here!"

"Wuuu, I thought I was going to die here... I don't want to die..."

The cell was filled with the sounds of excitement and survival cries, all kinds of emotions intertwining, creating a bittersweet scene.

"Everyone quiet!" Luo Chen's voice, calm and powerful, "We don't have much time, we must leave quickly, otherwise, if the Blood Ghost Sect discovers us, we will all perish here."

He stepped forward to unlock the cell, the iron chains breaking easily in his hands as if they were rotted wood, releasing the hostages one by one.

"Thank you, thank you for saving us!"

"Your great kindness will never be forgotten! You are like our reborn parents!"

The hostages thanked the four profusely, grateful, some even kneeling on the ground, kowtowing continuously.

"There's no time for this now, we need to leave here quickly, it's not safe to stay long," Qing Shuang urged, a hint of urgency in her voice.

Just then, urgent footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, growing louder and clearer.

"This is bad, they've found us!" Luo Chen's face changed, his heart sinking.

"Hurry! Let's get out of here!" Mo Han's uncle shouted urgently, his voice full of anxiety.

The four, leading the hostages, hurried along the corridor, every step taken on the edge of life and death.

Behind them, the sound of pursuers in black robes grew closer, like a death talisman, chilling to the bone.

"You take them and go ahead, I'll hold them back!" Mo Han's uncle suddenly stopped, turning to face the pursuers, his eyes resolute.

"Uncle, you..." Mo Han halted, his eyes full of reluctance and worry, knowing his uncle was planning to sacrifice himself to buy them time.

"Go quickly! No more talking!" Mo Han's uncle commanded sternly, his voice carrying undeniable authority, "There's no time left! Remember, you must get them out safely!"

Mo Han gritted his teeth, tears brimming in his eyes, knowing this was not the time for hesitation, he had to make a choice.

He took one last deep look at his uncle as if to etch his image in his heart forever, then continued to lead the hostages forward.

Luo Chen and Qing Shuang followed closely, understanding this wasn't the time for sentimentality, they needed to escape with the hostages promptly.

Mo Han's uncle remained alone in the corridor, facing the swarm of black-robed pursuers. He took a deep breath, a flicker of determination in his eyes, like a lone wolf at the edge of desperation.

"Come on, let me show you an old man's might!" he roared, his voice booming like a bell, resounding through the corridor, his weapon gleaming like the scythe of death.

He wielded his weapon and engaged the black-robed enemies in fierce combat, a flurry of blade and sword, flesh and blood flying.

The corridor was a chaos of clashing blades, shouts of battle ringing out, the air thick with the stench of blood, nauseating.

Though aging, Mo Han's uncle moved nimbly, each move and strike imbued with substantial power, able to fight against many without faltering, growing more valiant with each passing moment.

However, even the best warrior can't fend off many foes, and as time passed, his stamina waned, his movements slowed, and more ghastly wounds appeared on his body, staining his clothes red with blood.

"Old man, let's see how long you can last!" sneered one of the black-robed men, his blade gleaming with bloodlust.

"Pah! Even if I die, I'm taking some of you with me!" Mo Han's uncle spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes fierce, like a wounded beast, attacking the enemy with renewed ferocity.

He mustered all his strength, killing one of the black-robed men, but suffered severe injuries himself, dropping to a knee, panting heavily, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Hahaha, old man, you're finished!"

"Kill him! Avenge our brothers!"

Several black-robed men advanced with malicious grins, their weapons gleaming like the scythe of death, ready to claim his life.

In this critical moment, a figure suddenly appeared, standing in front of Mo Han's uncle like a descending deity.

"Uncle, I'm here to help you!"

It was Mo Han! He had returned, his gaze resolute, tightly gripping a Longsword, its blade glinting coldly.

"You... why did you come back?" Mo Han's uncle was both shocked and angry, disbelief in his eyes, "Go quickly! You're no match for them! Returning is just suicide!"


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