A towering pavilion soars into the clouds, its form constantly shifting between illusions, appearing for an instant atop a volcano, then in the blink of an eye, within a sea of blood.
This pavilion resembles a mirage; even if seen by ordinary people, they would think it a trick of their eyes, vanishing into thin air the moment they blinked.
The pavilion has twelve floors, and at this moment, on the topmost level.
A man kneels before another clad entirely in black, wearing a terrifying demon mask, trembling with fear.
The twelfth floor is the most mysterious part of Blood Killing Pavilion, for it is the pinnacle of the pavilion.
Right now, the masked man’s expression is indistinct, but the surrounding space seems on the verge of shattering, revealing the masked man’s fury.
The masked man raises his hand; the arm hidden beneath the black robe is pale and delicate. He gently pinches Xue Qing’s chin, and suddenly, the eyes behind the mask emit a red glow.
Xue Qing trembles violently, sweat pouring down like large beads.
Before him, Xue Qing feels completely exposed, as if every secret within him has been laid bare.
“Hehe…” The masked man’s voice is low and deep, like the voice of a devil from the underworld. Then, with a flick of his sleeve, Xue Qing kneeling on the ground vanishes instantly.
“Interesting…” In an instant, space in front of the masked man tears open a rift by itself, and gradually, the masked man’s figure disappears into it.
At this moment, Xue Qing, who had just skirted the edge of hell, suddenly opens his eyes, looks around, and finds himself on the first floor.
“Master…” A disciple of the Blood Killing Pavilion greets him respectfully beside him.
Xue Qing wipes the sweat from his forehead and nods slightly. When facing the master of the twelfth floor, he felt as if he had plunged into the depths of hell, unable to muster even the slightest resistance.
No one has ever seen the true face of that master, nor has anyone witnessed him in action. Yet standing before him, no matter who it is—even the masters of the eleventh floor—tremble with fear and dare not meet his gaze.
As if beneath the black robe is not a human, but a god.
Before him, they are mere ants, with no resistance whatsoever.
But now, Xue Qing clenches his fists. As long as the master acts, that man will have no hope of survival.
Though Xue Qing doesn’t know Lin Fan’s exact strength, he is certainly a powerful existence. Only by reporting to the master is there hope for revenge.
And Xue Qing’s current task is to seize control of the first floor. With his father’s death, countless eyes are now coveting the position of first-floor master; he must suppress them all.
…
The next day.
The forest, washed clean by last night’s heavy rain, exudes a fresh fragrance. The rising sun bathes the earth in light, driving away all darkness.
At this moment, Lin Fan smiles and waves goodbye to the two people, his eyes filled with reluctant affection. After thinking all night, Lin Fan has abandoned his previous idea.
The mysterious figure hidden in darkness, whose cultivation level remains unknown—Lin Fan decides not to gamble with his own safety.
“Farewell,” Xia Youtian says, bowing in parting.
However, when He Yuhan looks at Lin Fan, she wears a meaningful smile. Her bright eyes, like stars, gleam with insight, as if she has already seen through Lin Fan entirely.
“Where should we go now…” After leaving the cave, Xia Youtian sighs.
“Brother Xia, we can check out this area,” He Yuhan says, pulling out a map.
Xia Youtian glances at the map, slightly surprised, then nods.
“Brother Xia, that person just now wasn’t a good guy. In the future, you shouldn’t sleep so soundly,” He Yuhan smiles, as radiant as a summer flower.
“I think he seemed fine,” Xia Youtian scratches his head.
He Yuhan smiles but says nothing.
…
A towering pavilion, ethereal and ever-changing, appears momentarily atop a volcano, then in a sea of blood. Like a mirage, even if seen by ordinary people, they would dismiss it as a trick of the eye, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
The pavilion has twelve floors, and at the very top, a man kneels before a figure clad in black, wearing a terrifying demon mask, trembling uncontrollably.
The twelfth floor is the most mysterious place in the Blood Slaughter Pavilion, the pinnacle of its power.
The masked man’s expression is unreadable, but the surrounding space, seemingly on the verge of collapse, reveals his intense anger.
The masked man raises his hand, revealing an arm so pale and delicate it seems almost unreal. He gently grips Blood Qing’s chin, and from behind the mask, a red light suddenly emanates from his eyes.
Blood Qing trembles violently, beads of sweat dripping down his face.
Before the masked man, Blood Qing feels as though his very soul is laid bare, with no secrets left.
“Heh…” The masked man’s voice is low, like the growl of a demon from the depths of hell. With a flick of his sleeve, Blood Qing vanishes from the spot.
“Interesting…” In an instant, a rift tears open in the void before the masked man, and he steps into it, disappearing.
Blood Qing, as if having wandered the edge of hell, suddenly opens his eyes and finds himself on the first floor.
“My lord…” A disciple of the Blood Slaughter Pavilion congratulates him.
Blood Qing wipes the sweat from his brow and nods slightly. Before the lord of the twelfth floor, he felt as though he was in the depths of hell, with no will to resist.
No one has ever seen the true face of that lord, nor has anyone seen him act. Yet, standing before him, even the master of the eleventh floor trembles, unable to meet his gaze.
It’s as if what lies beneath the black robe is not a man, but a god.
Before him, they are mere ants, with no will to resist.
But now, Blood Qing clenches his fist. If the lord acts, that man will have no hope of survival.
Though Blood Qing doesn’t know the extent of Lin Fan’s strength, he is certain he is a formidable foe. Only by reporting to the lord can he hope for revenge.
Blood Qing’s current task is to seize control of the first floor. With his father dead, the position of the first floor’s master is coveted by many, and he must suppress them all.
…
The next day.
The forest, washed by last night’s rain, emits a fresh fragrance. The rising sun bathes the earth, dispelling all darkness.
Lin Fan, with a smile, waves to the two, his gaze filled with a hint of reluctance. After a night of contemplation, he has abandoned his previous thoughts.
The mysterious figure hidden in the darkness, of unknown strength, poses too great a risk. For his own safety, it’s better not to gamble.
“Farewell.” Xia Youtian clasps his fists in farewell.
He Yuhan, however, looks at Lin Fan with a meaningful smile, her bright, star-like eyes gleaming as if she has seen through him.
“Where should we go…” Xia Youtian sighs after leaving the cave.
“Brother Xia, we can check this way.” He Yuhan takes out a map.
Xia Youtian glances at the map, slightly stunned, then nods.
“Brother Xia, that man is no good person. You shouldn’t sleep so soundly in the future.” He Yuhan smiles like a summer flower.
“He seemed alright to me.” Xia Youtian scratches his head.
He Yuhan chuckles but says nothing.
…
After everyone has left, Lin Fan also departs. The Burial Sea Demon Land is still far away, and he is now a great distance from the Holy Sect. Returning won’t be easy.
Ah, the Desert Fourteen Bandits he recruited, how are they faring? With their wits, they shouldn’t starve.
And that cross-dresser Liu Lingfeng he trained, how is he?
Thinking of these, Lin Fan’s heart is filled with endless melancholy.
Leaving the Qin Divine Dynasty, he steps into a dangerous land.
Lin Fan senses the presence of many beasts, some strong, some weak.
Along the way, Lin Fan ponders two things. One is the “Seed of Life.” After some research, apart from its immense vitality, he has made no progress. He still doesn’t know the purpose of the “Seed of Life.”
The second is the “Blood Sea Demon Art.” Though the technique is evil, its ultimate benefits are boundless.
The ability to regenerate from a drop of blood is something many covet, but its authenticity is uncertain. Even the Blood God might not possess such power.
“Roar…”
In this dangerous forbidden zone, a beast blocks Lin Fan’s path.
The beast has thick limbs, a broad and long body, and a back covered in thick scales, like a crocodile. Its eyes are filled with hostility.
Thud… Thud…
The ground shakes as the Ironback Crocodile’s heavy limbs stomp, producing a thunderous rumble.
“Die…”
In an instant, Lin Fan, bare-handed, delivers a powerful palm strike towards the Ironback Crocodile’s head.
The Ironback Crocodile opens its massive mouth, its sharp teeth gleaming, ready to tear Lin Fan’s hand apart.
But in that instant, the sharp teeth shatter.
“Thud…”
The Ironback Crocodile’s head is driven deep into the ground by Lin Fan’s palm.
“Ding, congratulations on killing the mid-tier divine beast Ironback Crocodile.”
“Ding, congratulations on gaining 100,000 experience points.”
“Ding, congratulations on obtaining a drop of Ironback Crocodile’s essence blood.”
…
Lin Fan pays no mind to such a weak beast. He needs 700 million experience points to level up, and the Ironback Crocodile’s contribution is but a drop in the ocean.
At this moment, Lin Fan notices that the beast’s essence blood holds a strange allure for him.
His expression changes as the “Blood Sea Demon Art” flashes in his mind.
Could the essence blood of a beast also work?
After sitting down to cultivate, Lin Fan realizes that the “Blood Sea Demon Art” doesn’t gain experience from this. Thinking it only works with human blood, he considers abandoning the technique.
Though the benefits of the “Blood Sea Demon Art” are tempting, Lin Fan would never resort to stealing human essence blood for cultivation.
Lin Fan hooks his finger, and the drop of essence blood floats towards him. After a moment’s hesitation, he swallows it.
The essence blood of a beast is something ordinary people cannot consume directly, as it would cause beast transformation. Though it enhances strength, it greatly affects the body.
Unless specially refined.
As the essence blood enters his body, the system begins to prompt, but Lin Fan ignores it, focusing on circulating the “Blood Sea Demon Art.”
In this moment, countless blood threads seem to extend within Lin Fan’s body, like the tentacles of an octopus, attaching to the essence blood and continuously absorbing it.
“Ding, congratulations on gaining 100 experience points for the ‘Blood Sea Demon Art.'”
…
Lin Fan’s eyes open, a smug smile on his lips. Then, a glint of excitement flashes in his usually calm eyes, as if he has discovered a monumental secret.
“Here I come…”
Sigh, he wonders how the fourteen desert bandits he recruited are doing. But with their intelligence, they probably haven’t starved to death.
And Liu Lingfeng, the effeminate man he trained, how is he doing?
Thinking of these things, Lin Fan feels an endless sense of melancholy.
Leaving the Qin Divine Dynasty behind, he enters a dangerous land.
Lin Fan senses the presence of many fierce beasts—some powerful, some weak.
Along the way, Lin Fan ponders two matters. One is the “Seed of Life.” After some research, aside from its immense vitality, he has made no progress, unsure of its true purpose.
The second is the “Blood Sea Devil Cultivation Method.” Though a sinister technique, its ultimate potential is boundless.
Regeneration through a drop of blood—this is a coveted ability many would kill for. Yet he doesn’t know if it’s real or not. Even Blood God might lack such a capability.
“Awooooo…”
At this moment, deep within this forbidden and dangerous zone, a fierce beast blocks Lin Fan’s path.
This beast has thick limbs, a long and broad body, armored with thick scales along its back like a crocodile. Its eyes brim with hostility.
Boom… Boom…
The ground shakes as the Iron-Backed Devil Crocodile stomps heavily with its sturdy limbs, producing thunderous, rumbling sounds.
“Die…”
In an instant, Lin Fan, barehanded and radiating immense pressure, slams a palm toward the crocodile’s head.
The Iron-Backed Devil Crocodile opens its massive jaws, its sharp teeth gleaming coldly, attempting to tear Lin Fan’s hand apart.
But in an instant, those razor-sharp teeth shatter one by one.
“Bang!”
Lin Fan’s palm strikes the crocodile’s head, driving it deep into the ground.
“Ding, congratulations on defeating the mid-stage Divine-Level Beast, Iron-Backed Devil Crocodile.”
“Ding, congratulations on gaining 100,000 experience points.”
“Ding, congratulations on obtaining one drop of Iron-Backed Devil Crocodile’s essence blood.”
…
To Lin Fan, such a weak beast is unworthy of attention. His required experience for leveling up is seven hundred million—still half to go. The experience from this crocodile is merely a drop in the ocean.
At this moment, Lin Fan notices that the beast’s essence blood exerts a strange attraction on him.
Suddenly, Lin Fan’s expression changes, and the “Blood Sea Devil Cultivation Method” flashes through his mind.
Could it be that the essence blood of fierce beasts also works?
After sitting cross-legged to meditate, Lin Fan had previously thought that the “Blood Sea Devil Cultivation Method” couldn’t gain experience and had planned to abandon it unless he used human blood.
Though the benefits of this cultivation method are tempting, Lin Fan cannot bring himself to kill humans for their essence blood just to cultivate.
He lifts his finger, and the drop of essence blood slowly floats toward him. After a moment’s hesitation, he swallows it.
Essence blood from fierce beasts is generally not consumable directly by humans, for doing so would trigger a beast transformation. Although it enhances strength, it has severe side effects on the body unless specially refined.
The moment the essence blood enters his body, system prompts begin to sound, but Lin Fan ignores them, instead beginning to circulate the “Blood Sea Devil Cultivation Method.”
At this moment, countless blood threads seem to extend from within Lin Fan’s body. Like octopus tentacles, they latch onto the essence blood and begin absorbing it continuously.
“Ding, congratulations on the ‘Blood Sea Devil Cultivation Method’ gaining 100 experience points.”
…
Lin Fan’s eyes flicker open, a trace of pride forming at the corner of his mouth. Then, in his otherwise calm gaze, a sharp glint flashes—as if he has just uncovered a monumental secret.
“Here I come, little master…”
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