Chapter 7: The Power of the Vast Sea

The werewolves appeared in their combat forms, each exuding formidable auras. The leader among them emanated an air of ancient presence. The most striking feature of these werewolves was the silver mane growing down the center of their backs.

For some unknown reason, Qian Ye’s purple blood energy and his entire ability rune suddenly trembled violently, as if cheering for a grand feast. He felt a long-missed surge of boiling blood.

A werewolf sniffed deeply, and its eyes turned crimson. It roared, “He has the scent of the Blood Clan!”

The other werewolves echoed with growls.

“Exactly!”

“That’s the scent! And it’s similar to that woman!”

“Let’s eat him!”

The leading werewolf raised a hand, silencing the howls of the pack. Staring at Qian Ye, he asked, “This is the battleground of our Silverback Tribe. How dare a stinking vampire enter here?”

“Silverback? I heard that the Silverback Tribe is almost wiped out by Nana.”

Qian Ye’s words instantly provoked the rage of all the werewolves. The leading werewolf howled to the sky, swinging his battle axe, and aimed it at Qian Ye’s head!

Ripples of an indescribable force suddenly appeared around Qian Ye. All the werewolves felt an overwhelming pressure, as if they were carrying mountains on their backs. This was a real, unyielding pressure. The leading werewolf’s battle axe stopped mid-swing, forced to resist the heavy pressure, unable to continue its descent.

If he, the strongest among them, could not handle it, the other Silverbacks fared even worse. Their bones cracked and crumbled under the weight, and they collapsed, their bodies deformed.

Qian Ye drew his bloodthirsty blade and thrust it into the heart of the nearest werewolf. After a moment, he withdrew it. The Silverback, now drained of his essence, fell to the ground. The sound of his crushed bones echoed as his body flattened.

Qian Ye slowly retracted his primordial force, shaking his head. This was just the prototype of his domain. However, he could only release the suppressing power of the endless deep sea, but not control its intensity. As a result, he had inadvertently obliterated the entire Silverback warrior pack.

This domain originated from the Tai Xuan Bing Fa Jue, and even in its initial stage, barely manifesting the endless deep sea, it was already nearing his limits. Qian Ye estimated that if he truly formed a vortex of the sea, the tearing force would likely destroy him first.

Qian Ye sheathed his bloodthirsty blade and continued forward. Soon, he encountered a young man with silver hair and blue eyes. He was extremely tall, shirtless, revealing a perfect physique brimming with explosive power.

The young man looked down at Qian Ye and pointed to his chest, saying, “Zalar, one of the ten Silvermane Warriors of the tribe. Did you just kill my kin?”

Facing this young baron who wore pride and bravery on his face, Qian Ye was unsure how to react.

Perhaps in a large, ancient tribe like the Silverback, it was indeed remarkable for him to become a third-rank baron at his age, and he had confidence in defeating his peers. Qian Ye was also a third-rank baron, and Zalar’s solitary challenge was the mark of a true warrior.

However, this courage and pride appeared foolish in front of Qian Ye, showing a lack of judgment.

Without drawing Dongyue, Qian Ye merely pointed. Ripples of the sea instantly surrounded Zalar. In a flash, he felt the weight of the entire deep sea on his back, causing his knee joints to crackle.

Zalar swayed slightly, then stood firm, his mane fluttering. But his muscles quivered, showing he was exerting his full strength. Yet, the brave werewolf warrior roared defiantly, burning with intense dark primal force, not only resisting but also seeking an opportunity to counterattack.

But Qian Ye did not give him the chance. In one step, he reached Zalar and slapped Dongyue on his shoulder. The sound of bone fractures filled the air, and Zalar let out a loud cry, collapsing to his knees. Qian Ye flipped his hand, and the bloodthirsty blade pierced Zalar’s back.

After a moment, Qian Ye withdrew the blade and continued his journey. The once valiant Silverback warriors soon became mere skeletons on the battlefield.

Crossing ridges, forests, and rivers, Qian Ye stepped onto a grassy meadow. Suddenly, a squelching sound came from beneath his feet. He took a step back and looked down to see a small, strange spider, deep green in color, crushed underfoot.

Qian Ye halted, looking around to find himself surrounded by countless green spiders. They scurried through the grass like a tide, rushing towards him.

Grassland wolf spiders!

Their venom was lethal, and they were extremely aggressive. Some grew naturally in the wild, but more often, they served as servants. Now, thousands of them covered the meadow, with more pouring in from the forest. A bite from one could be troublesome even for a high-rank warrior.

But using wolf spiders against Qian Ye was a miscalculation. With a thought, a faint, almost invisible wave of blood spread out, extending over thirty meters before fading. Within this range, all the wolf spiders flipped over, legs twitching, and died.

Qian Ye continued toward the forest, and when more spiders rushed forward, another wave of blood cleared them away.

A roar came from the forest: “Are you a Blood Clan? Then why are you slaughtering our warriors?”

A massive arachne emerged from the woods, humanoid from the waist up and spider-like below, even larger than Brahms. In his right hand, he wielded a colossal axe longer than Qian Ye’s height, and in his left, a gatling-gun-like primordial gun. Just from these two enormous weapons, one could see his terrifying strength.

Beside him, over a dozen servant spiders, around level seven or eight, followed. Countless smaller wolf spiders also joined, making for a formidable force on the battlefield.

“I, Bardenburg, will…” The arachne’s words were cut short.

Qian Ye leaped, appearing before Bardenburg, and swung Dongyue down!

Bardenburg instinctively sprayed primordial bullets, but they all passed harmlessly beneath Qian Ye. When Dongyue struck, he roared, raising his axe to parry.

But amidst the cracking sounds, both Bardenburg and his axe were flattened by Dongyue.

Ripples of the sea appeared again around Qian Ye, pressing all the charging servant spiders to the ground. The weaker ones were instantly crushed, while the smaller wolf spiders burst into pulp.

Qian Ye circled, impaling the dying servant spiders with his bloodthirsty blade, and finally, drove it into Bardenburg’s core.

Moments later, Qian Ye crossed the forest and reached the valley on the other side, continuing along his predetermined path.

Over the next few days, Qian Ye faced numerous interceptors: the arachne viscount Barten, Sathon, the Blood Clan’s ancient lineage member Rambeer, Dog, and even the talented Prins of the Yerushin family, a renowned demon clan. These names signified power and fear in the Dark Realm.

But they all became Qian Ye’s military achievements, unable to stop his advance. Dongyue never fully left its sheath. Qian Ye’s sea power was unstoppable, and when faced with a tougher opponent, a single strike from Dongyue turned them to paste.

After several days, though he hadn’t found Bai Kongzhao, Qian Ye had swept through half of the Sector C-3 battlefield. Now, a Blood Clan castle loomed ahead, and for the first time, Qian Ye faced a choice: to detour or go straight.

The castle was ornate yet lacked defensive fortifications, possibly because it was in the heart of the Dark Territory, where the complex terrain made it difficult for large armies to reach.

Long banners hung from the castle walls, their intricate patterns revealed by the mountain breeze. The largest and highest banner bore a blooming purple datura, signifying that the castle was now controlled by the second-ranked Mornoe Clan of the Twelve Ancient Lineages.

These banners represented nobility, indicating that the castle housed hundreds of high-ranking dark warriors and at least as many viscounts or higher. The castle’s influence extended over a hundred kilometers around it.

It lay directly on Qian Ye’s path, and avoiding it would require a significant detour. Without much hesitation, Qian Ye gazed at the leaden sky and walked straight towards the castle.

In the great hall of the castle, a handsome blood noble sat in the central throne, exuding arrogance. The hall was filled with rows of warriors, mostly Blood Clansmen, but other races also made up nearly half. Among the front ranks were several titled nobles, a few of whom exuded a stronger aura than the blood noble on the throne.

This blood noble was a second-rank baron, not the strongest in the hall, but incredibly arrogant, showing no respect to the powerful figures standing below, including a first-rank baron of the Mornoe Clan.

He was roaring in anger, his voice echoing throughout the hall and even beyond, into the castle corridors.

“Worthless bunch! With so many warriors, you can’t stop a mere human, and instead, lose so many lives. How many more of you need to die before you can kill him? How many more must I send? Ten barons? Twenty? Do you even have the holy blood in your veins?”

“He’s just a tenth-level human, comparable to your third-rank barons! Can’t even kill a third-rank baron—what kind of strong, gifted bloodline is this?”

“How much of the Mornoe Clan’s honor is left? How much?”

His roar resonated, his agitation increasing as he pointed and cursed at the powerful figures below.

In the Dark Races, order was merely another display of power. Many of these elites had grown through brutal combat, and several were fierce and violent. Many of them glared at the blood noble, their eyes filled with a savage, bloodthirsty light.

But when their gazes fell on the conspicuous purple datura emblem on the blood noble’s black suit, they all restrained themselves, lowering their heads.