After locating the Hand of Death's hideout, the group took some time to change into the standard Shrek Monitoring Corps uniform.
Each of them donned a dark green combat suit — at least, Shrek's aesthetic had improved slightly over the millennia; they'd finally retired that infamous "filthy green."
Still, the leather armor they wore barely offered the defensive capability of a Spirit Ancestor's physique — better than nothing, but far from reliable.
While the armor could somewhat resist both physical and soul power strikes on covered areas, it lacked full integration. Against tricky or penetrating soul skills, it was nearly useless compared to a proper soul tool barrier.
Along with the armor came a cloak of similar material, allegedly offering equal defense — though to Huo Yuhao, its hindrance to movement outweighed any protective benefit.
And the mask? Pure decoration. It hid the face, yes, but served no real combat purpose. If only it were a proper sealed respirator, it might at least protect them from poison or miasma.
Once everyone finished gearing up, the operation officially began. They had, quite literally, changed outfits at the enemy's front door — if the bandits had half-decent surveillance, the team would already be dead.
"This mission will be led primarily by the main team," Wang Yan said. "Dai Yueheng, you command the frontline. I'll oversee and protect the reserve members."
"Yes, Teacher Wang," Dai Yueheng replied calmly. The main team moved swiftly into formation, Ma Xiaotao standing at the center.
With her strength and temperament, she refused to take orders from anyone weaker than herself — least of all Dai Yueheng. Her arrogance came naturally with her power.
Under the cover of soul power, the team advanced quietly toward the cave.
Dawn was near — that liminal hour when the human body was most fatigued. Even on the Douluo Continent, ordinary people were bound by that rhythm.
Through his Eye of Truth, Huo Yuhao watched the main team ahead silently eliminate the sentries stationed outside the cave.
At the same time, he quietly activated Mental Invasion, seeding subtle influence into Dai Yueheng's subconscious — not overt control, but a gradual nudge, guiding his instincts and combat judgment toward disaster.
Dai Yueheng led the charge with Chen Zifeng and Xi Xi flanking him; Ma Xiaotao remained central; Gongyang Mo provided support from behind; Ling Luochen and Yao Haoxuan guarded the rear.
In the reserve squad, Xu Sanshi stood frontmost, with Beibei and Jiang Nannan on either side. Huo Yuhao, Wang Dong, Ning Tian, and Xiao Xiao formed the middle group, with Wang Yan trailing behind to protect them.
At the cave's entrance lay half a dozen corpses — scorched black but not burned, clearly killed by Xi Xi's lightning strikes.
Deeper inside, the sounds of battle echoed.
"They've been discovered," Wang Yan said gravely. "Move in carefully."
Huo Yuhao sighed inwardly. All that stealth and buildup for what? With only one speed-type attacker — and a lightning one at that — they were never going to sneak in effectively. Why not just attack head-on from the start?
In truth, the Monitoring Corps was ill-suited for this kind of operation. Their formation and skill sets were built for dueling — not close-quarters ambushes in enemy territory. No wonder their missions so often ended in tragedy.
If Yuhao had been the Death God Envoy, he'd have filled the area with traps and corpse bombs. Shrek's elite would never make it past the entrance.
After all, to that man, every other member of the Hand of Death was merely a disposable puppet — even the other Soul Masters under him. Losing them meant nothing; he could always make more.
The cave was wide within. Along the path, scattered bodies lay strewn across the ground — bandits, by their attire.
The stench of blood thickened as they advanced, until they came upon the source: the walls were lined with human skins stretched and nailed flat against the stone.
To the Eye of Truth, these were just organic remains — no soul power, no danger. Merely the twisted trophies of a madman.
Worse still, from the stalactites above hung infant corpses, freshly killed, their blood dripping slowly — landing directly upon Jiang Nannan's shoulder.
She screamed. Even the others blanched.
But to Yuhao, who saw only cellular patterns through the Eye of Truth, there was no horror. Wasteful, he thought coldly. Such materials could serve in necrotic energy refinement, yet he squanders them like this. No wonder he's only a Spirit King.
For the rest, the reaction was mostly instinctive — a primal disgust. They'd seen death before, both human and beast, but this scene was different. It wasn't fear; it was something deeper, closer to pity and revulsion.
Yet in the end, was there truly any moral distinction between Soul Masters and so-called evil ones? Soul Masters hunted beasts for their flesh, their rings, their bones — dissecting and absorbing them alive. Was that not its own form of cruelty?
But as the privileged and powerful, they never questioned it. They justified it — as righteousness, as necessity.
That was the reality of Douluo. The higher one climbed, the easier it became to twist morality to fit one's own desire. The strong are always right.
Soon, they steadied themselves, faces set with righteous fury — whether genuine or performative, none could say.
"Stay sharp," Wang Yan ordered. "These people are monsters. Show no mercy — each kill could save countless innocents."
His voice calmed their nerves. The group pushed forward.
The tunnel widened into a cavern filled with chaos — soul rings flashing, skills detonating in bursts of light.
At the center of the carnage stood Dai Yueheng and Ma Xiaotao, cutting through foes like storm and fire incarnate.
Golden-red flames flared around Ma Xiaotao, each explosion wiping out swathes of bandits.
Against the full might of the Shrek elites, the low-level bandits and their weak Soul Masters had no chance.
Dai Yueheng blocked the main passage alone, his claws cleaving through the mob, while Ma Xiaotao incinerated them from behind. Gongyang Mo's rainbow glow danced around both of them, amplifying their power.
Ling Luochen and Yao Haoxuan guarded the rear, pinning down stragglers.
Xi Xi stood near Gongyang Mo, her agility wasted in such a cramped environment — there was nowhere for her to strike.
Dai Yueheng held the passage, a one-man wall, while Ma Xiaotao's flames reduced the rest to ash.
Soon the corridor was piled with corpses, blood pooling like a river.
But through the Eye of Truth, Yuhao noticed something no one else did — faint, dark energy pulsing within the bodies near Dai Yueheng's feet.
The dead were not at rest.
The remaining bandits' eyes were red with frenzy, their movements erratic — clearly under some soul technique's influence.
Yuhao deepened his mental influence on Dai Yueheng, subtly eroding his focus even as the battle raged.
Wang Yan, seeing the danger of entering the chokepoint, ordered, "Long-range support only! Don't interfere with Dai Yueheng's line. Use this time to experience real combat from a safe distance."
The reserve squad obeyed. Xu Sanshi and Jiang Nannan guarded the weaker students; Xiao Xiao's Three Lives Soul-Suppressing Cauldrons orbited defensively. Ning Tian joined Gongyang Mo in buffing Dai Yueheng.
Beibei and Wang Dong unleashed long-range soul skills toward the tunnel entrance, explosions lighting the walls.
But Yuhao's eyes didn't leave the corpses. The energy inside them grew unstable — ready to burst.
It's coming.
A voice echoed in his mind — old, raspy, familiar.
"Wait… this technique… old as time… yes, I remember now."
Electrolux. His memory fragments had stirred — a crucial piece had returned.
Yuhao reacted instantly. He channeled soul power into the Glazed Barrier, his fourth-tier soul tool.
A shimmering blue dome expanded around the reserve squad just as the first corpse detonated.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The cave trembled with a chain of violent explosions.
Each blast tore through flesh and bone, flooding the front half of the cavern with shockwaves and flame. But the worst wasn't the heat — it was the thick black miasma that followed, a poisonous fog brimming with death energy.
It was Corpse Explosion, one of the Death God Envoy's signature arts.
Anyone tainted by that toxin upon death would themselves become fuel for the next blast — an endless, spreading curse.
(End of Chapter)