A dozen burly men—some seated, some sprawled—locked onto the bald man’s words about female prey. Their pupils instantly glinted with chilling hunger. These were hardened criminals, each with blood on their hands, fugitives who’d fled into the lawless Denagus Mountains to escape royal warrants.

Beyond plentiful meat, everything else was scarce here—especially women. For men brimming with restless energy, females were the ultimate craving.

Leering, the dozen thugs surged to their feet. A party of seven? Just one has-been and a Barbarian? Child’s play.

“Heh. Women? No more talk—wipe ’em out! The girls are ours to enjoy! This bounty’s mine, you one-eyed bastard!” A hulking man with a missing left eye swung his broadsword northward.

“Can’t miss out on this! Count me in—I’ve been starved for a maiden’s scent!” A red-haired brute drooled as he stepped forward.

Soon, the rest clamored to join the hunt, eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

The bald man grinned at his comrades, then turned to a burly figure in tattered mage robes. “About ten thousand meters north, Archmage. Can you teleport us?”

Silent, the robed man raised glowing hands. Magical light flared beneath everyone’s feet. “Teleport.”

*Whoosh!*

Blinding light flashed—and the thugs vanished.

Simultaneously, Alan’s group halted mid-stride. “Spatial ripple! They’ve got a space mage!” Alan warned.

*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*

A dozen streaks of light materialized around them. As the glow faded, snarling thugs encircled the seven travelers.

“Heh heh heh—heh! Prime catches! Luck’s on our side today—both maidens untouched! Those two girls are *mine*! Don’t any of you dare touch them, or my ghost-head blade won’t recognize friends!”

“Demon? Just ’cause we call you that, you think you *are* one?” A one-armed brute glared at the ghost-head blade wielder. “Try hogging them, and I’ll gut you before we finish *them*!”

“Trash like you dare insult Lamuzha’s employer?” A shadow blurred—*thwack!* The ghost-head blade thug split clean in half. Crimson blood sprayed like a miniature rainstorm.

Alan winced. *Brutal. Not even a whole corpse left.* But Lamuzha’s speed startled him—leaving afterimages? No ordinary feat.

“In the name of the Fire God, purge all sin! Heavenfire!”

A fiery magic sigil flared before Crimson Cherry. Three thugs ahead of her vanished into roaring flames, reduced to ash in a blink.

*Well, now* that’s *leaving no corpse.* At least Lamuzha’s victim had remains.

“Attack! Don’t underestimate them! Kill the men—capture the women alive!”

The bald man’s eyes glowed eerily. His target: Alan. His magic? Possession. One gaze, and he’d seize control.

The other thugs charged—swinging greatswords, hurling spells—closing in on Alan’s group, Verris and Crimson Cherry included.

“Tch tch. Underestimating us already?” Garisding, in crisp white suit, dodged two sword strikes. “Hey, pretty boy,” leered one attacker, broadsword whistling like wind. “I’d hate to kill you. Surrender, and I’ll *cherish* you.” One slip, and Garisding would be minced.

Hearing this, Garisding’s handsome face twisted into an eerie smile. “You truly disgust me. Vanish from this world.”

Golden light erupted from his palms. “I summon the Thunderclap!”

*Crackle!*

Two golden lightning bolts—thick as bowls—blasted from sigils in his hands. The thugs had armored themselves with sword-qi the moment they saw the glow. Useless. The bolts struck—*boom!*—bursting them into bloody mist.

“I’m no ‘chick,’” Garisding murmured at the dissipating mist. “And I don’t like men. Especially filthy ones like you.”

“Garisding, your lightning’s as savage as ever. Doesn’t match your face,” Alan teased, yanking his rusty greatsword from the bald man’s chest.

“Alan, have some shame! Wearing mage robes but stabbing folk with a rusty sword? Downright nasty.”

True to Garisding’s words, the bald man stared death at Alan, eyes wide with disbelief. His possession magic had failed. Alan had exploited his shock—driving the blade home in one thrust.

*Unfair!* These weren’t lambs—they were wolves in sheep’s wool!

In a single clash, the dozen thugs dwindled to seven. No—*five*. While distracted, Faro’s greatsword had felled two more.

The remaining five thugs faltered. They shoved back their opponents, huddling together.

“Damn it! We walked into a trap! Retreat!”

“Archmage—teleport us out!”

“Think you can come and go as you please? We’re not your lambs,” Verris snapped. Her right hand flashed. Winged white tigers materialized mid-air. “Xiao Bai—kill them!”

*ROAR!*

An earth-shaking tiger’s roar echoed. The five thugs collapsed, blood streaming from all seven orifices. The teleportation mage’s glowing feet flickered out.

One roar. Five dead. Alan silently gave a thumbs-up. *Brother Tiger, your brutality wins my respect.*