Chapter Thirty-Four: Mo Bufan's First Outburst of Fury
Mo Bufan searched through the mountain forest until he found a secluded, well-ventilated cave. There, he placed the mother Fire Lynx and her child, settling them safely inside before sitting down nearby to rest.
The young Fire Lynx had opened its eyes by now. The first things it saw, apart from its mother, were Mo Bufan and the orange cat. Having grown used to their scents over these days, the little creature showed no fear, instead climbing nimbly and affectionately over both Mo Bufan and the orange cat.
Despite not being a sentimental man, Mo Bufan couldn’t help but feel fondness for such an endearing creature. Having watched it be born and grow, a deep bond had formed between them.
As for the Dustless Emperor, he felt no affection for the young one, but there was an odd tolerance in his attitude, allowing the little beast to crawl over him without irritation—perhaps simply too indifferent to be bothered.
The mother Fire Lynx, upon seeing her child’s antics, would sometimes carry him back, but most often watched silently, her eyes filled with a joy almost human in its warmth. Having endured so much to survive, she was devoted to securing a good future for her son, and Mo Bufan was clearly the one she had chosen to trust.
After playing with the young Fire Lynx for a while, Mo Bufan’s stomach rumbled—he hadn’t eaten all day and was truly feeling faint. He settled the mother and child, set up a small illusionary formation for their safety, and instructed them not to leave before heading out in search of food.
He intended to hunt some wild game, but never magical beasts. The idea of killing such intelligent, sentient creatures always filled him with guilt, as if harming a fellow human—he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Just as he left the cave, the orange cat leaped onto his shoulder, clearly intending to accompany him. Mo Bufan shrugged—what could he say if the Emperor wished to come along?
...
No sooner had Mo Bufan departed, and while the Fire Lynx mother and child were resting quietly inside, the sound of soft footsteps approached.
“Brother Zhao, I think we’ve already searched this area. There’s probably nothing left,” a voice said.
“Not necessarily,” another replied. “After the demonic surge at Dragonfall Abyss, many magical beasts were badly wounded. They couldn’t have gone far and must be hiding nearby. If we search carefully, we might find a high-level beast.”
As soon as this voice faded, several others chimed in agreement, and the group made their way directly toward where the Fire Lynx was hiding.
Ever cautious by nature, the mother Fire Lynx, despite feeling safe under Mo Bufan’s protection, had not forgotten her wariness. The moment she heard the voices outside, she stood alert and crept to the cave entrance to observe.
Realizing the group was headed straight toward her, she glanced back at her sleeping son, then in the direction Mo Bufan had left, and finally at the cultivators now less than a hundred meters away. Determination flashed in her eyes.
She knew her son’s presence could not be masked; once the intruders were close enough, they’d surely discover them, and the illusionary formation would not hide their scent. Most importantly, she could not risk her son’s life on the gamble that these people might overlook them or fail to break through the formation.
Life in Dragonfall Abyss had been hard, every day a struggle for survival. Now her son, imbued with the Dragon Ancestor’s essence, carried limitless potential—she could not risk everything on a chance.
Resolute, she took one last look at her son, then, in a blur, darted out of the illusion, deliberately releasing a trace of her aura to draw the pursuers’ attention, and sped away into the distant forest—in the same direction Mo Bufan had gone.
The moment she emerged, several figures spotted her. The one called Brother Zhao shouted, “You’re not getting away!”
In a flash, one figure hurled himself after her with incredible speed, followed by five others racing in her wake.
Sensing the strong presence behind her, the mother Fire Lynx’s heart sank. This person was powerful—she knew she would not survive unless, by some miracle, she met Mo Bufan.
Driven by desperation, she ran even faster, determined to lead her pursuers as far from her child as possible—the farther she could take them, the safer her son would be. If only she could reach Mo Bufan!
But she never got the chance. After barely two thousand meters and before she could cross the next ridge, a flash of sword light struck her. She felt the protective aura around her shatter like rotten wood, agony tearing through her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a cruel smile and the sword that pierced her chest. With a final, pained cry, she fell silent.
All hope collapsed in that instant. Survival had always been a struggle—such was the law of the jungle, and no one could defy it.
“It’s just a Fire Lynx,” grumbled a black-robed man, frowning in disappointment. “Not much use dead, though its pelt is worth a little. Wonder if there’s a beast core?”
He casually split open the Fire Lynx’s skull, retrieving a thumb-sized beast core, and finally smiled with satisfaction. “At least you weren’t a total waste.”
With that, he tossed the corpse aside, losing all interest in the pelt—it was troublesome to skin, not worth the time or effort compared to the value of the core. Besides, the treasures he’d gained from surviving the demonic surge far outweighed anything a Fire Lynx could offer.
As he put away the core, five figures approached—disciples of the Origin Sect, ragged but evidently pleased with their own spoils. They glanced at the Fire Lynx’s body and could only shake their heads in resignation.
...
“It seems there’s really nothing good left here,” sighed Brother Zhao, leading the group toward the outskirts of Dragonfall Abyss.
...
Mo Bufan returned carrying two wild hares, the orange cat perched quietly on his shoulder. As he neared the cave, the cat let out a single “meow.”
“Heh, I’ll cook them up for you soon,” Mo Bufan chuckled. “Seems this demonic surge really did a number—even ordinary animals are scarce…”
“Meow!” The orange cat ignored him, crying out even louder before leaping from his shoulder and sprinting toward where the mother Fire Lynx’s body lay.
Startled, Mo Bufan shouted, “Hey!” and chased after it. “Brother, where are you going?”
The cat ran so fast that Mo Bufan had to push himself to his limits just to keep up. After only a kilometer or two, the cat stopped halfway up a mountain, staring at the bloodied, broken corpse of the mother Fire Lynx, her skull cleaved open and her body lying among the bushes.
Mo Bufan caught up, ready to speak, but the sight before him made his heart convulse—there, at the cat’s feet, was the lifeless body of the very Fire Lynx he had carried on his back.
A wave of grief and guilt crashed over him. “How… how could this be?!”
He had promised to take her from this place, but just as freedom was within reach, tragedy struck—she had been cruelly slain, her head split open.
Pain wracking his heart, he cradled the lifeless body, then, panic rising, rushed back toward the cave, not even sparing a glance at the orange cat.
If anything had happened to the young Fire Lynx…
He did not dare imagine further.
Bursting into the cave, he saw the illusion still intact and the little Fire Lynx sleeping peacefully. Sensing his return, the young one smelled the familiar scent and struggled awake, letting out a plaintive cry.
Overwhelmed by sorrow, Mo Bufan finally laid the mother’s corpse on the ground.
The young Fire Lynx, catching its mother’s scent, crawled desperately to her belly and began to nurse, seeking comfort in her lingering warmth.
In her final act, the mother Fire Lynx provided her son with one last meal.
Watching this, Mo Bufan’s grief turned into blazing anger, a murderous intent exploding in his chest. “Whoever did this to you, I will tear them to pieces and avenge you!”
Perhaps even Mo Bufan did not realize just how deeply he had come to care for this loyal, affectionate Fire Lynx…