Soon, they arrived at the source.

  Two teams were already engaged in battle, spells detonating across the dried streambed and cracked soil. Mo Fan finally saw, up close, what a real Intermediate fight looked like when both sides carried Magic Tools.

  It was not just who had more magic energy.

  It was timing.

  Positioning.

  And tools that could swing the outcome in a single exchange.

  A shield tool could erase a mistake.

  A binding tool could create an opening.

  A defensive ring could keep someone alive long enough to cast again.

  Even with simir cultivation, Magic Tools could decide everything.

  The battle ended in a violent lull.

  The dust settled.

  Then Chao He revealed himself.

  He stepped out like he had been waiting for the exact second everyone’s focus dropped.

  And he had.

  The old schemer had pnted this pce long ago.

  The moment the st major spell ended, the ground shuddered and a giant spiderweb of curse markings rose from beneath the cracked earth, spreading outward in a fsh.

  It caught several young disciples of the Oriental Family before they even understood what had happened.

  The curse sank into them.

  Their bodies stiffened.

  Their faces drained.

  Four of them nearly colpsed on the spot, as if their strength had been drained through their bones.

  “Oh no,” Teacher Tang Yue said sharply, standing up. For the first time, her face looked genuinely pale. “Too te.”

  She had wanted to strike the moment Chao He made his move, to take him down instantly and stop everything.

  But the curse net was already activated.

  Curse element skills were insidious. They did not announce themselves. They waited until attention was elsewhere, until people were tired and careless.

  The Oriental Family’s people had been focused on the Hunter Mages. They had burned through their trump cards. Their minds were on the obvious enemy.

  Chao He used that moment.

  Intermediate Curse magic.

  A net that did not miss.

  And his Evil Spider Trap had been cultivated deep. The vengeful intent inside it gnawed at the mind, turning fear into weight, turning hesitation into paralysis.

  Mo Fan watched from cover, his jaw tightening.

  He had no defense against this.

  Zero.

  If he stepped into that curse web, he would not be fighting with spells.

  He would be fighting with his mind, and losing time he could not afford.

  After Chao He crippled the four, he moved straight for the Rose Fme.

  A pilr of rose colored fire swayed near the rock face, burning like a living torch in the middle of drought and death.

  Chao He’s eyes gleamed.

  He raised his hand as if to begin refining it immediately.

  Teacher Tang Yue moved.

  She shot forward, fast enough that Mo Fan only saw the blur of her coat and the snap of her star map. Her spell struck, forcing Chao He to retreat and smashing several of his prepared Magic Tools.

  But something was wrong.

  Mo Fan saw it instantly.

  Tang Yue’s movements were sharp, but her breath was uneven, her control slightly off, as if her skin itself was fighting her.

  Chao He ughed under his breath.

  He had tagged her.

  Not a binding curse. Not a killing curse.

  A contaminating curse.

  One meant to disrupt judgment, disrupt control, disrupt everything.

  Mo Fan stepped out.

  He did not waste words.

  Fire gathered in his palm.

  “Fierce Fist.”

  The bst forced Chao He to dodge.

  Then lightning gathered under Mo Fan’s feet, star trails snapping into pce with practiced speed.

  “Lightningbolt.”

  Boom.

  The strike nded.

  Chao He’s body jerked, muscles locking, his curse control colpsing for a fraction of a second.

  Mo Fan did not let that fraction go.

  He followed with another Fierce Fist, smashing Chao He into the ground.

  It was over.

  Chao He did not get back up.

  Mo Fan turned immediately toward Teacher Tang Yue.

  “Teacher, are you alright?”

  “Do not come closer,” Tang Yue snapped, voice strained.

  She was upright, but barely. Her fingers were tight, like she was holding herself together through sheer will.

  “You go refine the Rose Fme,” she said, forcing the words out. “Now.”

  “The fme can wait. You cannot,” Mo Fan said, serious.

  “Go,” Tang Yue barked, harsher. “That is an order.”

  Mo Fan’s eyes narrowed.

  He understood.

  If she lost control here, if she colpsed, they both died. And if other Hunter Mages arrived while she was in a compromised state, she would be exposed in a way that could ruin everything.

  So Mo Fan did exactly what she said.

  He moved to the Rose Fme.

  He reached into the rose colored fire, ignoring the heat that tried to bite through his skin.

  The pilr resisted for a moment, then poured inward in waves.

  Hot.

  Dense.

  Violent.

  The fire surged into the nebu in his spiritual world, feeding his element like a flood pouring into a dry river.

  The Rose Fme pilr shrank.

  Shrank.

  Then vanished completely.

  Mo Fan finished refining it.

  He stepped back, chest rising and falling, feeling the fire settle, compress, and stabilize inside him.

  Behind him, by the rock, Teacher Tang Yue’s breathing had steadied slightly. Her eyes were still hazy, her expression controlled but tight, like she was refusing to show pain.

  When she saw Mo Fan’s obvious change, she let out a cold snort.

  “This time you profited.”

  Mo Fan did not deny it.

  Tang Yue’s gaze hardened.

  “All the relics will be confiscated,” she said. “Do not even think about it.”

  Mo Fan sighed. “Teacher, you were not this cold before.”

  Tang Yue ground her teeth.

  “Stop talking.”

  Mo Fan knew what state she was in. He did not push further.

  They cleaned the scene quickly, removed anything that could trace back to her, and left before the town’s Hunter circles could swarm the area with questions.

  Back in Xishui, Tang Yue’s condition was still unstable. Mo Fan did not argue.

  He hailed a taxi and gave the driver the city route.

  In the back seat, Tang Yue kept her eyes on the window, jaw tight, breathing measured. The after effects were still pulling at her.

  Mo Fan kept his voice low.

  “Teacher, are you still feeling”

  A sudden jolt of the taxi, a sharp turn, and Tang Yue’s hand shot out and grabbed his colr for bance, pulling him forward slightly.

  Mo Fan froze.

  Tang Yue froze too.

  She released him instantly, face tightening with anger at herself more than him.

  “Do not misunderstand,” she said, voice sharp. “Drive.”

  The taxi driver started to gnce in the rearview mirror.

  Mo Fan lifted his hand, a thin arc of lightning crawling across his fingers.

  The driver’s eyes snapped forward and stayed there.

  No more curiosity.

  Only driving.

  Mo Fan leaned back and lowered his hand.

  The taxi driver was very annoyed and was about to turn around when he saw the electric light in Mo Fan's hand. He instantly focused on driving, with no other thoughts.

  After deterring the taxi driver, Mo Fan immediately leaned closer.

  He wouldn't take advantage of someone in their vulnerable state, but if you pounced on him first, he couldn't just not give you some sweetness, could he?