Time crawled forward second by second, Ji Tianqing and Li Kuanglan sat silently opposite each other, lost in thought instead of cultivating. They watched daylight melt into dusk, an icy night looming silently upon them. Neither spoke, each immersed in personal contemplation.
The dark veil of night spread from the distant horizon. Silence crept into the mountaintop. Suddenly, both caught a whisper of sound, faint yet approaching quickly. Some invisible presence drew nearer from the deep woods.
The two exchanged glances before swiftly vanishing behind natural rock formations edging the camp. Their breath stilled as they peered outward. The disturbance grew distinct with every heartbeat, then abruptly a silhouette burst from shadowed woods far away—an impossibly swift form dashing ahead.
Li Kuanglan couldn’t hide her joy: that could only be Qian Ye returning. Ji Tianqing, however, tugged her sleeve slightly then motioned toward Qian Ye before silently leaping out from the cover, approaching him from the side in stealth mode.
Li Kuanglan’s sharp observation quickly spotted trouble as soon as she concentrated; Qian Ye was running slowly. Compared to a standard mighty warrior in tenfold gravity field, that was actually fast. Yet this realm was where Qian Ye’s physique could showcase superior potential, especially speed. Why had he become this sluggish?
Her heart pounded hard with an effort suppressing unease, while reaching out for a primal energy gun and aiming at the space behind Qian Ye.
There proved, in the meantime, no pursuers appearing behind Qian Ye in the woods after all. Sensing presence upon approach, Qian Ye flickered a glance toward Ji Tianqing briefly but continued charging ahead toward the camp. While covering a detour positioning toward his flank as shadowed guard, Jian Tianqing made sure his reentry happened intact to where his allies stood firm watch.
Hardly did Qian Ye vault safely into the camp than he stumbled, almost pitching onto the ground.
Li Kuanglan instantly steadied him, voice tight with concern: “What happened?”
Gasping as though fish flung ashore, Qainye struggled for breath. Eventually managing slight relief, he weakly reassumed: “I’m fine. Just slightly overextended.”
“How far did you actually run?”
Li Kuanglan couldn’t conceal the incredulity in her tone. Their many joint battles had given her first-hand knowledge of his terrifying stamina restoration abilities. Almost never had she seen Qian Ye worn down. So why exactly was he so exhausted?
“I couldn’t tell… Although I’ve brought us something.”
From concealment came a small box, opened carefully with bated breath. Inside lay unmistakable—six Pure White Fruits!
Ji Tianqing showed uncharacteristic surprise. “D’ye actually stumbled on another tribe’s base?”
He nodded wordlessly.
“That’s impossible! It hasn’t even been a full cycle since I departed the area, and I didn’t get outside their range once!”
“Looks then like running still further was all it took.” Qian Ye said lightly with a faint chuckle lacing fatigue.
Six white fruits equaled survival for three freezing nights. Such should’ve occasioned celebration. But the atmosphere felt somber indeed.
Qian Ye sat eyes half-closed. His fatigue was evident. And Li’s and Ji’s expressions carried uneasiness too.
Ji Tianqing examined them closely. Something was different this time—those bore one faint red mark on each. She barely caught their scent when heart rate increased and unusual sensations coursed through her blood. Unmistakably, they carried superior potency than before.
Native tribe sacred items meant this enhanced effectiveness probably translated to greater defenses—increased number of host natives, and more importantly, more native masters.
Ji Tianching’s sharp gaze flicked across the weary figure.
Suddenly, hands moved to fling off Qian Ye’s ragged cloak.
Right across the hipside gaped a gaping fist-sized wound, completely through back to front, internal viscera visible through torn musculature and tissue dark with necrosis preventing regeneration—this one wasn’t alone. Other injuries peppered his frame, not healing.
Another near his breastbone was a bone-stripped gash down-to bare frame—yet bones stood their ground this time; their increased endurance had withstood a severance.
Ji’s lip bit sharply into the soft flesh below, voice cold as death: “Have you gone insane?”
“And let me guess you thought yourself quite a dashing champion? Dashing inside to claim such treasures by might. You imagine this hero’s image matters? Do you despise us so? So unwilling to be near—better off running alone risking death than standing between us?”
Her tirade lashed forth, unrestrained. Only as she slowed for breath did it subside.
Silence answered, while Ji spoke. Li said nothing, although her steady gaze added another weight of reproach no less powerful than direct words.
Still struggling Qian Ye attempted explanation. “No. There were many, Ji—but nothing I couldn’t manage. Calling it a ‘risk’ is stretching it.
Cold as winter ice Jian snapped: “Claim superiority, then. Over me? Your voice implies yes.”
She waited, breath suspended as his mouth opened. For one moment nothing. And then, a single tiny incline of his chin.
Crimson fury filled her stare before grit teeth promised grimly, “Remember that. Upon exit from these coils we’ll settle our debt—no escape, no mercy. Face me.”
A petite masterwork-blade spun into Qian Ye’s awaiting fingers from Ji.
Eyes widening slightly at Jian’s determination, Li exhaled, “Will you really go though with this?
“No. I simply enjoy watching his discomfort.”
The shaking head gave quiet agreement. Yet murmured: “You won’t regret?”
She laughed softly, “Why would I?”
He could almost speak that thought aloud—because she’d likely fall short. He kept it in; she might charge immediately should provoked.
Even were his physical strength intact—he wasn’t one pride-seeking among comrades in truth. Qian Ye simply dreaded her possibly overextending and triggering internal complications from the medicines in her body.
Li tugged once on Ji: “Help replenish first—the longer we delay the worse the absorption efficiency gets.”
Cold gaze re-lashed toward prone frame with derision: “Guess your stars aligned this evening.”
Ji held concealed needle ready, plunging it lightning swift and ruthless straight into his throat’s side—no hesitations as thick liquid jet-propelled into his bloodstream all at once—result: swollen bulge immediately at the injection site. Yet such minuscule punishment mattered little—after all Qian Ye’s physiology was monstrous in resilience; within seconds all pharmaceutical compounds were pulled inside cells, though painful enough drawing his features up grimacing.
Knowing the action merely served as retribution, slight annoyance barely registered—it was insignificant, beneath notice.
Needle crushed between Ji’s hands then transformed to ashes in a flicker flame summoned. She moved swiftly—but not quickly enough to completely disguise markings previously on syringe label—signaling Li’s knowing that these were not healing compounds. And she knew too well their dangerous implications.
Scorching sensations erupted in Qian Ye’s bones. Each cell felt combustion spreading rapidly—an instantaneous surge across tissue structures as repair potential multiplied manifold in every wounded location.
His body’s cells roared for food, demanding nutrients and energy in waves.
A dull booming like the beat of great battle drums echoed suddenly through the quiet, resonated with each beat through Ji and Li’s chests.
They both recognized instantly.
It was the resonance of the heart—Qian Ye’s crimson source—the pulse accelerated to dozens times previous speed, pumping molten gold-blood through capillaries rapidly, delivering vital essence everywhere simultaneously—yet each cell consumed every droplet as rapidly as it entered—still unsatisfied. Demanding. Needing. Hungering.
Qian Ye’s reserves drained instantaneously. Vital golden substances surged in from hidden sources to refill it, refining itself within his source organ into molten nourishment yet insufficient in speed, forcing the engine itself to accelerate transformation ever further despite compromised quality output.
Soon, even stored lifeblood began depleting perilously. Desperation surged as the craving remained far from fulfilled, until from within shadowed depths, the Book appeared.
Rapidly flipping page by page like a hungry spirit, the tome spilled remaining condensed contents straight into crimson core. With this refinement pre-processing in advance, transformation speed temporarily surged up anew. Even so, the hunger remained.
Then, in a desperate twist, reserves emptied entirely, source spent. The book faded again into the background. As pages sealed shut in fading darkness, he thought dimly—two more pages had inscribed itself within it—but not clearly visible.
Body screamed for replenishment. When the crimson engine’s flow finally thinned, desperate thought sought one alternative left—dawn power.
Mind shifted slightly—and instantly a floodgate opened across primordial whirlpools of primal energy stored within the flesh, drawing it hungrily outwards.
From silent rotation the primal cyclones now spun violently as golden light erupted forth in dazzling flaring torrents filling each muscle vein—cellular fabric.
Revitalization emerged strange beyond former imagining.
Flickering radiance poured light upon his dying tissue masses—incinerating the old to be replaced faster, denser, stronger than previous. Observers sensing this might detect crystallinity—a mirroring of energy vortexes embedded throughout fresh tissue fibers—a living resonance between the flesh and inner flame.
Entire system realigned and renewed. This awakened insatiable thirst from his physical matrix demanding more—more than could ever be sipped from primordial wells. Still, pull forces increased.
Abruptly resounded within, as if metal snapped from strain—a vortex shattered open its shell forming a sixth brilliant source among already established whirlwinds above, and now the formation echoed harmoniously like music from sky, activating Taixuant Art spontaneously drawing essence freely from open spaces.
Unknown when, darkened clouds collected overhead, swirling in a hundred-meter-wide spiraling tempest above. Thunder cracked, deep red arcs sparking violently inside swirling voids.
Sudden fierce gust swirled throughout the camp, uprooting tents, shelters, chests, campfires alike—tossed them violently into air. All was sucked rapidly upward without mercy into swirling abyssal cyclones high in blackening skies.
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