“Could it be that Fellow Daoist Jian is mistaken? The newly emerged Profound Heavenly Treasure is not within our Feiling Clan’s territory. If that’s the case, it’s only natural that the blood sacrifice technique couldn’t summon it,” a calm female voice rang out from the altar.
The speaker was a middle-aged woman draped in a white cloak, her back adorned with a pair of iridescent feathered wings. Her tone carried a faint hint of schadenfreude.
“Lady Bu! The summoning array was jointly presided over by Brother Jian and me. Through the blood sacrifice, we indeed sensed the presence of the Profound Heavenly Slaying Sword. However, something went wrong during its retrieval—it vanished abruptly mid-transmission. Could it be that the sword has gained sentience and can sever space on its own?” A young man suddenly interjected.
This man had a gleaming white horn on his forehead—none other than the horned youth of the Jiaochi Clan whom Han Li had encountered on the giant island half a year ago.
The first speaker, naturally, was the fish-eyed man of the Sea King Clan. At this moment, his face bore traces of barely concealed frustration.
“Whether there truly is a Profound Heavenly Treasure is something only the two of you who presided over the array would know. The rest of us were merely following orders to assist,” an elderly man in a black robe, with two pairs of gray wings on his back, remarked coolly.
Leaning on a dragon-headed cane, he made no effort to hide the sarcasm in his words.
The other winged Feiling Clan members, though silent, cast unfriendly glances at the horned youth and the fish-eyed man.
The horned youth did not respond further. Instead, he exchanged a glance with the fish-eyed man, their lips moving soundlessly as they engaged in a private telepathic conversation.
The Feiling Clan members grew visibly displeased at their brazen behavior.
“Since the first attempt failed, we’ll immediately conduct another blood sacrifice. The residual blood energy hasn’t dissipated yet, so it should still be possible. As long as the Profound Heavenly Treasure remains within your Feiling Clan’s territory, it will respond to the summoning,” the horned youth declared after their discussion, his expression darkening.
“Another sacrifice? Do you two think our cultivation was obtained for free? The previous blood sacrifice already drained most of our spiritual energy. Another one would deplete our true essence!” The black-robed elder slammed his cane, causing the altar to tremble slightly as he spoke coldly.
“Brother Min understands this request is unreasonable. But no matter how difficult, it pales in comparison to exterminating two clans and slaughtering tens of thousands of primordial beasts within half a year. If we miss this chance to reclaim the Profound Heavenly Treasure, none of us can bear the consequences,” the horned youth replied, narrowing his eyes indifferently.
The black-robed elder’s face twisted in anger, and he stepped forward as if to rebuke him.
But then, a light cough came from the crowd, followed by a hoarse voice: “Brother Yao, calm yourself. Fellow Daoist Min represents the Jiaochi Clan. We must not be discourteous.” The speaker was a hunched figure shrouded in faint white mist, obscuring his features.
“Brother Xiong speaks wisely. Yao was too hasty,” the black-robed elder immediately retreated, his expression shifting to deference.
“Does Fellow Daoist Xiong have something to say?” the horned youth asked, his expression stiffening momentarily before forcing a smile.
“Indeed, I have a few words. It’s not difficult for us to expend our vitality to assist you with another blood sacrifice. But what if this attempt also fails?” the hunched figure chuckled darkly, his voice turning icy.
“If two attempts fail, it proves the treasure is no longer in this region. We’ll leave immediately, and the terms we agreed upon earlier will remain unchanged,” the horned youth replied without hesitation.
The fish-eyed man remained silent, tacitly endorsing his words.
“Good! With that promise, we’ll assist you once more. The rest of you, don’t act rashly—this must be done properly,” the hunched figure commanded, his tone brooking no dissent.
Strangely, none of the high-ranking Feiling Clan members voiced objections, silently nodding in agreement.
Soon after, the blood lake’s surface began to ripple, and wisps of black energy coalesced above it. The crimson mist churned violently as the altar at the lake’s center was enveloped in a bloody glow, accompanied by the murmurs of an obscure incantation.
……
A splitting headache, as if his skull had been cleaved in two, jolted Han Li awake.
Darkness filled his vision. Struggling to open his eyes, he found his eyelids impossibly heavy.
Alarmed, he realized he was lying down and attempted to sit up, but his body refused to obey—not even a finger would move.
His heart sank. Suppressing the pain, he mustered the last remnants of his spiritual sense to inspect his condition.
The results left him bitterly amused.
Not only had he lost most of his vital essence, but his spiritual energy was also completely depleted. Worse still, the excruciating headache stemmed from his severely depleted divine sense, now reduced to a mere fraction.
All this, from a single swing of a sword.
The memory of wielding the sword transformed from the Profound Heavenly Fruit sent chills down his spine—both awe and relief intertwined.
That single slash had altered the heavens and earth, disrupting the teleportation and even tearing through space itself. But the cost was staggering: his spiritual energy and divine sense had been drained in an instant, leaving him unconscious as he was sucked into the void.
Reflecting on it now, he realized that the slash had only harnessed a fraction of the sword’s power. Its might seemed directly tied to the amount of spiritual energy, divine sense, and even his lost vital essence it consumed.
Still, knowing his condition eased his panic. Neither his depleted essence nor his spiritual energy and divine sense were fatal. With elixirs and rest, he could recover in a few years.
The quiet surroundings suggested he was safe, at least for now.
Though his eyes remained shut and his divine sense inert, the damp air and faint saltiness on the breeze told him he was near a coast. The soft grass beneath him indicated he lay in a meadow.
Had he not been teleported far?
The thought brought both relief and unease. But in his current state, he could do nothing but lie still.
Hours later, he managed to crack his eyelids open a sliver.
A pale blue sky greeted him.
No sign of the eerie blood clouds. He exhaled in relief.
Several more hours passed before he could turn his head, surveying his surroundings.
A small valley, bordered by low hills on three sides and a narrow exit on the fourth. The entire area spanned no more than a thousand feet, with him lying at its center.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but the movement sent a sharp pang through his face. His muscles ached unbearably—a sensation he hadn’t experienced since cultivating the Vajra Arts.
It seemed wielding the Profound Heavenly Fruit had drained something beyond his spiritual energy and divine sense. Otherwise, his robust physique wouldn’t have suffered so severely.
Lost in thought, he remained motionless on the grass.
By the next day, a single finger twitched—the first sign of returning strength.
His joy was short-lived.
A series of heavy thuds echoed from beyond the valley, the ground trembling faintly beneath him. Something massive was approaching.
His gaze snapped to the entrance, his expression hardening.
Moments later, a towering figure lumbered into view—a giant crab, over thirty feet tall, its spiked carapace gleaming like emerald armor.
The crab’s green eyes glowed as it scuttled sideways toward a hillside, oblivious to Han Li’s presence. It seized a grayish rock with its massive claws, crunching it between its mandibles with a bone-chilling sound.
Han Li relaxed slightly, but his relief was premature.
After devouring a dozen rocks, the crab’s eyes flashed green. It pivoted abruptly, fixing its gaze on him.
Their eyes locked.
With a hiss, the crab charged, claws raised menacingly.
Han Li’s face darkened, his cold stare unwavering. Not a trace of fear flickered in his eyes.
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