Chapter Seventy-Six: The Tip of the Iceberg of Lies

Unfortunately, the clearing outside the cave was only three or four meters square—one glance was enough to take it all in. Strangely, there was not the slightest trace of the Spirit Beast Scroll to be seen.

“Damn it!” Bai Mu cried out softly and urgently, “Master’s Spirit Beast Scroll is gone!”

“Impossible!” Ling Yan, alarmed, began searching the area with her eyes as well, but there was still no clue to be found.

“Could it have fallen into this Howling Cloud Cave?” Ling Yan muttered doubtfully, staring at the cave entrance.

“It’s possible. Let’s hurry and take a look inside!” With those words, Bai Mu struggled to rise from the ground.

But the moment he tried to apply a bit of force with his hand, his body felt utterly useless, as though crippled; he couldn’t summon any strength at all. Waves of pain radiated from his back, burrowing into his heart. If not for his tenacious nature, he would have cried out in agony.

Could I have been crippled again?

A mix of horror and anger surged in Bai Mu’s heart as he pondered this. At the same time, he sent his spiritual consciousness to inspect the illusory cauldron beneath his abdomen.

To his delight, his body was not crippled. Both his meridians and the illusory cauldron were intact, and his spiritual energy was abundant—his physical body had merely suffered some trauma. With a few days’ rest, he would recover.

“Ling Yan, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m alright,” Ling Yan replied with a bitter smile. “The Skyfiend Qi of the Ruins is truly formidable. Though it didn’t injure my vital organs, it scattered my spiritual energy. To restore my strength, I’ll need ten days or half a month of recuperation.”

“As long as you’re alright,” Bai Mu soothed patiently. “Now that we’ve escaped the Ruins Shrine’s pursuit, we can rest here in peace for some time. Once we’re healed, we’ll find a way to leave. There’s no hurry—time is on our side…”

Just then, a hoarse, familiar cackling echoed from within the cave, ghostly and chilling, cutting Bai Mu off mid-sentence.

Startled, their gazes fixed on the cave as a gaunt old man in a grey robe stepped out slowly.

The slanting golden sunlight lit up the subtle wrinkles on his face, highlighting the cold, murderous glint in his sinister eyes. The giant crane embroidered in gold thread on his chest was impossible to overlook.

“It’s you!”

“Grandmaster Ashen Crane!” Bai Mu exclaimed, his voice trembling.

Ling Yan shrank back in terror, despair instantly clouding her eyes.

“That’s right, it’s I, the Protector,” Ashen Crane replied, his lips twisting in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he regarded them with mocking amusement. “How have you two been?”

“Thanks to you, we’re not dead yet,” Bai Mu replied, unyielding, after glancing at his own injuries.

He intended it as a casual retort, but surprisingly, Ashen Crane responded with grave seriousness, “Indeed. The plight you two are in today is very much thanks to me.”

“What?!” they blurted in near unison. “Then the murders framing Bai Mu on the way to Floating Jade Mountain—was that all your doing?”

“On the way here?” Now Ashen Crane seemed taken aback.

After a brief pause, he chuckled wickedly. “Let me be honest: the one who killed Wu Shang and framed Bai Mu—it was me!”

“So you disguised yourself as Bai Mu to murder and frame him?”

“Then the Great Fire in Dayong Market, the deaths of the commoners, and the Sword Immortal of the Origin Sect—were they all your handiwork?”

“Nonsense!” Ashen Crane snapped. “You’re just piling on baseless charges. Don’t try to pin crimes on me that I didn’t commit!”

“For nearly ten thousand years, I, Ashen Crane, have roamed the Wildlands—a hero in my own right. If I am guilty of something, I will admit it. But if I am not, you will not force it upon me!”

His righteous denial made the two falter.

Previously, when Ashen Crane confessed to killing Wu Shang and framing Bai Mu, they assumed the true culprit was finally exposed. But now, hearing him firmly deny the massacre in Dayong, new doubts arose in their hearts.

After all, given their current powerlessness, Ashen Crane had no reason to lie to them—whether he killed one person or ten made little difference to someone who had slain countless victims over millennia. He had no reason to deny the truth.

Thus, the only explanation left was that the arson in Dayong, Wu Shang’s murder, even the Sword Immortal’s death—these were not the work of a single person, but a series of carefully orchestrated frame-ups, each with its own motive.

One could only lament Bai Mu’s ill fortune, to have become the scapegoat for all of them by sheer coincidence.

Ling Yan, still clinging to a shred of hope, pressed on, “You truly did not set fire to Dayong Market?”

“Of course not!” Ashen Crane sniffed. “I am a villainous demon clan Protector. If I kill, I’ll extract the soul and refine my powers before finishing them off. Killing for no reason would be a waste—what good would that do?”

“You’re a monster!” Bai Mu burst out furiously. “You soul-stealing fiend, why did you frame me?”

“Why?” Ashen Crane shrugged with a sly grin. “Simple. Because atop Mount Mang, you slew my loyal Nightmare Demon with a single sword strike, and even shattered my Primordial Eight-Point Demon Cauldron, which I used for alchemy. Should I not avenge myself?”

“But,” he continued, face twisting into a crafty smile, “my ultimate goal in framing you was to seize the Wildlands treasures you both carry—like the Spirit Beast Scroll and that ancient sword of yours.”

“After leaving Mount Mang, I had been secretly tailing you. When I saw you two clashing with disciples of the Ruins Shrine, a cunning plan came to mind. Taking advantage of Senior Brother Wu Shang’s inattention, I disguised myself as you, Bai Mu, and murdered him on Mengying Mountain. Then I lured the Sword Immortal and his fool of a disciple to the peach grove outside Dayong, sending them after you two.”

“My plan was to grab your treasures amid the chaos with the Ruins Shrine, but in the Misty Forest outside the shrine, I lost track of you both and had to retreat empty-handed.”

“Scoundrel!” Bai Mu shouted in outrage. “So it was you, shameless Ashen Crane, who stole my Spirit Beast Scroll?”

“Indeed,” Ashen Crane admitted carelessly, grinning widely. “Last night, when you two fainted on the clearing outside the cave, I saw the Scroll lying nearby, so I picked it up and claimed it as my own.”