This man was about six feet tall, his face covered in bristling whiskers, with tiger-like eyes and a lion’s nose. He wore a blue-gray cloth robe that looked rather shabby, and at his waist hung a yellow fox-skin gourd, its age unknown, but the outside was slick and shiny with oil.

The longsword in his backpack had its glow withdrawn, hidden inside the bag, with only the hilt exposed. The black sword tassel fluttered in the wind.

Seeing the black-robed Daoist turn into a cloud of black smoke and flee, he showed no intention of pursuit. Instead, he took out a pitch-black pill and stuffed it into his mouth, chewed a few times, then unfastened the gourd at his waist, took a swig of liquor, rinsed his mouth, and suddenly sprayed it right at David Reed and the others.

Puff!!

The liquor mixed with the medicine, turning into a cloud of green mist that drifted down onto the faces of David Reed and the two constables.

Just now, these people had been tainted by the black banner of the black-robed Daoist. That banner was refined from many foul and yin things gathered from the world, extremely poisonous—an ordinary person would fall into a coma with just one breath, and if not treated in time, their life would be at risk.

The mist sprayed onto their faces, and after a while, their bodies suddenly began to tremble, pain showing on their faces. Then came a series of “puff, puff, puff” farting sounds, and a foul stench wafted from their bodies.

The man with the sword frowned, took a few steps back, and turned his head, spotting Lucas Ethan still unconscious under the old locust tree.

“How is there another one?” he muttered in surprise. Walking over to the tree, he seemed to sense something, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes, and the longsword on his back let out a bright sword cry.

With a flash of sword light, that ancient locust tree—who knows how long it had stood—was cut clean in half by his sword.

“Hmph, yin energy gathering, condensing the spirit—almost let you become something formidable!”

Sheathing his sword again, the man sneered, no longer sparing the tree a glance. He scooped up Lucas Ethan in one motion. At the same time, the unconscious David Reed and the others began to moan softly as they woke up.

Chapter Four: Earth Deity and Immortal Spirits

His mind felt heavy, dizzy, and a bit dazed.

This was how Lucas Ethan felt as he woke from sleep once again. His head was like a knocked-over sauce and vinegar shop—white, black, yellow, all sorts of things churning together in his mind, with no idea what would come out in the end.

Suddenly, a flash of memory surged into his mind—the mass grave, the memories flooding in.

Evil cultivator!! Monster!!!

He screamed and suddenly sat bolt upright.

“Junzi, Junzi, you’re awake!”

“Dad, why are you here? Where is this?” Lucas Ethan saw a familiar face suddenly come close, startling him at first, but then he relaxed, a wave of exhaustion and a hint of chill washing over him. Only then did he realize he was drenched in cold sweat.

Lucas Ethan had woken up, and Logan finally let out a sigh of relief. He gently helped Lucas Ethan lie back down and said, “Silly boy, this is your room. You all ran into an evil cultivator at the mass grave. Huzi and the others were poisoned, and you were saved by Lord Ming from the Six Gates. You were already unconscious at the time—it’s been a whole day!”

“Oh!” Lucas Ethan’s head was still muddled, but hearing they’d been rescued, he completely relaxed and soon drifted off to sleep again. This time, he slept for two days and two nights. When he woke again, it was already the deep night of the third day. Propping himself up slightly, he saw Logan slumped over the Eight Immortals table in the room, snoring softly, the candle on the table nearly burned out.

Hearing movement, Logan jerked awake.

“Junzi, how are you feeling? Any better? Want some water?” As he spoke, he hurriedly grabbed the pot on the table and poured water into a bowl. Only after pouring did he realize the water was cold, so he quickly picked up the pot to go boil some.

“It’s fine, Dad, I’m really thirsty—cold water is fine!” Seeing Logan like this, Lucas Ethan felt a pang in his heart, but forced a smile onto his face. He got out of bed, his legs still a bit weak. No wonder—he hadn’t eaten a bite in three days, so of course he was weak.

“I’ll get you something to eat!” Logan, a former constable, was sharp-eyed. One look at Lucas Ethan and he knew the boy must be starving. Without waiting for Lucas Ethan to respond, he turned and left the room, soon returning with a small pot.

“This is porridge I just made tonight, still warm—eat slowly!” Logan set the warm porridge in front of Lucas Ethan and said, “You just woke up, don’t eat too much at once.”

Feeling a bit moved, Lucas Ethan smiled and took the bowl, saying to Logan, “Dad, you should go sleep. If you keep watching me, I won’t be able to eat. Besides, you haven’t slept in ages—if you don’t go now, I won’t be able to sleep later either!”

Hearing this, the deep lines on Logan’s face twitched slightly. He stood up and said to Lucas Ethan, “Alright, I know. Take your time eating, I’ll go to bed now!”

Father and son—neither was good at expressing their feelings, but both could hear the other’s heart in their words.