Chapter 295 Don’t Make a Fool of Yourself

• The Lu clan was in a panic, and the crowd burst into startled cries. Meanwhile, Shan Hanyi’s face grew even darker. The fighter he had picked—Lu Hua—lost just like that? Didn’t that mean Finneas had just slapped him in the face? That would be mortifying for Shan Hanyi. “Winner, Guan Ya!” Before the crowd could react, the Grand Elder announced the result of the gu duel. “Guan Ya won? What about Lu Hua?” “Look—the fog is clearing!” Every gaze locked onto the ring. Guan Ya hopped down from the platform, and behind him, at the center of the stage, Lu Hua lay collapsed, trembling all over. He tried to get up, but his limbs wouldn’t obey. “Son!” His father rushed up, helped him to his feet, checked him over, and finally let out a shaky breath. “Dad, that brat… cheated. My life gu and all the gu on me went limp, like they wouldn’t listen!” Lu Hua’s face burned with shame and rage. Today was supposed to be his breakout fight. He still had plenty of tricks he hadn’t used, and he’d dreamed of facing Shan Hanyi—or even the Saintess. That would’ve made him a name overnight. Instead, he lost to a nobody. For Lu Hua, it was a humiliation he could barely swallow. “Hmph. Be glad you kept your life. Who told you to underestimate him?” his father snapped coldly. After they left the stage, the Lu clan head supported his son and stalked up to Guan Ya, voice icy. “The antidote.” He was clearly choking down the urge to kill, leaning on his clan’s power to pressure Guan Ya into handing it over. Everyone assumed Guan Ya hadn’t finished Lu Hua because he feared the Lu clan. But before Guan Ya could speak, Shan Hanyi cut in with a frigid scoff. “Shameless in defeat. That was Soul-Dimming Ghost Fog. He already held back. Otherwise, your son wouldn’t have a paralyzed life gu—he’d be paralyzed for life.” “What?!” The Lu clan head reeled, and the crowd erupted like a pot boiling over. Soul-Dimming Ghost Fog! They’d only heard rumors. Legend said it restrained all gu, could even paralyze them—and the harm it did to people was worse. If hit, the victim’s neurons would shrivel. Without an antidote, they’d end up a vegetable. And their life gu inside would slowly drain their life force. In the end, the life gu would be free, and the host would be dead. Yet clearly, Lu Hua could still speak. That meant Guan Ya’s Ghost Fog hadn’t been at full strength—just enough to leave him temporarily paralyzed. Give it time and he’d recover. Even so, the name alone made everyone look at Guan Ya with a whole new level of fear and respect. “Guan, a witch doctor? Looks like this kid is the dark horse of this year’s Witch Gu Tournament. We might want him to serve in our Witch God Hall.” Up on the dais, the Grand Elder’s eyes on Guan Ya burned with interest. Guan Ya bowed slightly to the Lu clan head and spoke softly. “In three hours, he’ll regain motor function. But don’t move him. If his life gu wakes first, it might snap back at the host. If that happens, even I can’t help.” After two matches back-to-back, Guan Ya had grown fast—from nervous and tongue-tied to calm and smooth. The change was startling. The Lu clan head seethed, murder in his eyes, but in the end he clenched his teeth and led his son back to their people. The Lu clan had been humiliated enough today—and that was with Guan Ya holding back. If they pushed it, who knew if he’d throw out Ghost Fog again? If that happened and the entire Lu clan got paralyzed, they’d be fish on Guan Ya’s chopping block. “Heh. Tu Jintong, why aren’t you laughing now? The one who beat me wasn’t some pushover. If you’re so confident you can handle the legendary Ghost Fog, go try him.” Seeing Guan Ya win, Feng Wujiang’s long, shoehorn face brightened as the gloom vanished. He struck back hard. Tu Jintong lost all his previous swagger; his face twisted up in fury. “Jerk! How could that witch doctor brat master a legendary Ghost Fog? Just that alone will have all the big factions scrambling to recruit him!” Rage churned in Tu Jintong, and his eyes slid to Shan Hanyi. Shan Hanyi had been the first to recognize Ghost Fog. Maybe he had a way to counter it? “Hmph. Don’t get cocky, Feng Wujiang. At least my luck’s better than yours. Maybe that kid will draw Shan Hanyi next round. One of them goes down. Either way, that helps me.” “Sure. Keep praying for good luck.” “You—loser. Barking won’t help.” The two fell back into bickering. On Finneas’s side, he noticed the icy glare Shan Hanyi leveled his way. What Finneas had said earlier had cost Shan Hanyi face. Wanting blood was normal. But from the start Shan Hanyi had overrated himself, acting like he was the only one who could match the Saintess. He even kept yelling her name. Now he’d been knocked down a peg, and plenty of people were happy to see it. “You handled Ghost Fog well. But you’re not strong enough yet. If you face someone overwhelming, they won’t give you the chance to use it.” Finneas spoke coolly. Guan Ya blinked, then bowed quickly. “Thank you for the guidance, senior.” He was sharp enough to get it—next time, prep before stepping on stage and strike the moment the match starts. Otherwise, you might never get the window. “Finneas versus Wang Xu!” Finneas’s turn meant the top eight of the Witch Gu Tournament were set. Wang Xu was someone Finneas had kept an eye on. He wasn’t from any of the Eight Great Families, not from the Thirty-Six Clans, either. A lone cultivator—no one here knew him. Compared to him, the mysterious girl seemed less mysterious. At his brow, a patch of skin looked rotten. His neck was mottled with spots—corpse blotches. It was hard for Finneas not to suspect he was from a corpse gu clan. He called himself Wang Xu, but fake names were common here. “Kid, I know you’re a witch doctor too. But Ghost Fog doesn’t work on me. If you’re planning to pull that little trick, don’t make a fool of yourself.” Wang Xu stepped onto the stage and sneered, full of contempt.