The golden torrent of flame roared for eight agonizing seconds, a blinding river of fire that seemed intent on scrubbing the world clean. When the time finally elapsed, the golden stream dissipated into embers, revealing the scorched devastation it had wrought.
Where the fire had struck, the figure of Master Qingyang emerged from the smoke.
He was a nightmare of melted flesh and raw ambition. His body had been partially liquefied again, the heat stripping away the facade of humanity he tried to maintain. Although he had managed to recover the majority of his cultivation base, the situation had shifted. The Nine Infants Demon Shadow that Luo Zhen had summoned was growing stronger, matching the villain's rising power.
However, this time, the damage Qingyang sustained was manageable compared to the near-fatal wounds he had suffered in the Grey Desert. The golden fire had incinerated one of his legs entirely, burning it away from the knee down, but his vital organs remained intact.
Yet, survival was not enough to quell his humiliation. Master Qingyang was consumed by a rage that bordered on apoplexy. His eyes burned with murderous intent.
"Damn it! Damn it all!" Qingyang roared at the heavens, his voice cracking with fury. "I have already recovered most of my strength! How is it possible that you can still wound me? My power has returned to the Fourth Heaven of the Emperor Level. If I were fully restored, you insects wouldn't even be able to scratch me!"
Watching from the shadows, Luo Zhen nodded to himself. So, the old monster only managed to recover to the Fourth Heaven. That gives us a chance.
"You wretched couple!" Qingyang screamed, his gaze locking onto Luo Zhen and the white-clad woman beside him. "You've humiliated me time and again. If I don't flay you alive today, I am not Master Qingyang!"
He had descended into total madness. The whites of his eyes were gone, replaced by a crimson tide of bloodlust.
"Luo Zhen, get back," Bai Susu said, her voice tight with urgency. "He's lost his mind. He's going to detonate his energy."
"Understood. Be careful," Luo Zhen replied, his voice low. "I'll watch for an opening from the perimeter."
With a flicker of movement, Luo Zhen vanished, reappearing a kilometer away to observe the clash safely.
Hardly had Luo Zhen settled into his vantage point when a wet, thunderous explosion echoed across the beach. He spun around to see a gruesome sight: Master Qingyang had voluntarily detonated his remaining leg.
It wasn't an act of suicide, but a dark ritual. The explosion didn't scatter his essence; instead, the blood, bone, and demonic Qi coalesced in mid-air. The gore twisted and hardened, forming a longsword of black and crimson. It was a weapon forged from his own suffering, radiating a blinding, sickly light.
Now legless, Master Qingyang hovered in the air, buoyed by his magic. He gripped the freshly formed Blood Demon Sword, pointing the jagged tip at Bai Susu.
"Today," he hissed, "I will use this blade, forged from my own flesh, to sever your head."
"That depends entirely on whether you have the skill to wield it," Bai Susu retorted coldly.
She raised her hand, her pale fingers grasping at the empty air. Space rippled, and a sword materialized in her grip. It was a magnificent weapon, three feet and three inches long. The blade and hilt appeared to be carved from a single, seamless diamond. It was translucent, shimmering with an ethereal, crystalline light that seemed to mock the bloody grotesquerie in Qingyang's hand.
"The Heavenly Crystal Sword," the System's mechanical voice suddenly echoed in Luo Zhen's mind. "She actually succeeded. Bai Susu has refined the Heavenly Crystal Sword."
Luo Zhen watched the radiant weapon with interest. "Heavenly Crystal Sword? I've never heard of it. What is it?"
"It is the exclusive, life-bound artifact of the Heavenly Crystal Ant clan," the System explained, dropping a sudden lore dump. "These ants produce an extremely rare mineral within their bodies called Heavenly Crystal Stone. This material is precious even in the higher Spirit Realm or the Immortal Realm. A sword forged from this internal crystal is a weapon of terrifying potential."
The System paused for emphasis. "Furthermore, Bai Susu's sword has reached the tier of an Extreme Grade Spirit Tool. It is on the precipice of evolution. One step more, and it becomes a true Spirit Treasure."
"That powerful?" Luo Zhen was genuinely shocked.
In this world, the hierarchy of weaponry was strict. Above standard Magic Treasures lie the Spirit Tools. Like all things, they were divided into Low, Medium, High, and Extreme grades. But the gap between tiers was exponential. The weakest Low Grade Spirit Tool could shatter an Extreme Grade Magic Treasure with ease.
The distinction lay in the soul. To be classified as a Spirit Tool, a weapon had to possess an Artifact Spirit.
While some Spirit Tools were forged with a spirit intact, most were evolved. If a cultivator nurtured their life-bound Magic Treasure with enough energy and time, it could develop a consciousness—a spirit. Once that spark of life ignited, the weapon transcended mere metal.
There were two ways to birth a spirit. The barbaric method involved stripping the soul from a powerful beast or enemy, wiping its memories, and sealing it into the weapon. The second, more noble path, was for the weapon to generate its own spirit naturally—a Sword Spirit, Blade Spirit, or Spear Spirit born of the user's will.
For a cultivator at the Emperor Level 5th Heaven, obtaining even a basic Spirit Tool was a pipe dream. They were simply too rare. Yet, Bai Susu wielded an Extreme Grade Spirit Tool, a weapon that was knocking on the door of godhood.
"If Susu has an Extreme Grade Spirit Tool," Luo Zhen asked mentally, "how does Qingyang's blood sword compare?"
"It is inferior," the System analyzed dispassionately. "I have scanned the energy signatures. While dangerous, the Blood Demon Sword is merely a Medium Grade Spirit Tool. However…"
"However?"
"Master Qingyang's technique is sacrificial. He can amplify the sword's power by feeding it more of his own body. If he sacrifices an arm, the sword will rise to High Grade. If he sacrifices both arms, it will achieve the power of an Extreme Grade Spirit Tool."
Luo Zhen scoffed. "He'd have to be insane. He's already legless. If he blows up his arms, how is he going to hold the sword? Spiritual telekinesis is fine for tricks, but in a life-or-death duel, you need the tactile precision of a hand."
"True," the System conceded. "Rest assured, Host. Master Qingyang is outmatched. You merely need to wait."
While Luo Zhen conversed with the AI, the atmosphere on the battlefield shifted from tense to cataclysmic.
The sky darkened as the ambient energy of the world began to boil. Master Qingyang summoned a tornado of blood-colored wind that churned the ocean below, turning the waves into a frothing crimson mess. Unwilling to yield, Bai Susu countered, summoning a translucent, diamond-dust storm that shrieked like a banshee.
The two tempests collided.
The sound was deafening—a grinding screech of opposing forces that shook the bedrock. Within the eye of the chaotic storm, Qingyang roared, swinging his blood sword with manic desperation. Despite the ferocity of his attacks, he was losing. Bai Susu's diamond-like sword pressure was overwhelming, forcing him back, creating fresh wounds on his already ruined body.
Yet, Qingyang did not retreat. He absorbed the blows, seemingly immune to pain, swinging his sword with the rhythmic persistence of a machine.
"He's a madman," Luo Zhen muttered, watching the spectacle. "Actually, 'madman' is too light. He's possessed."
"He practices demonic arts," the System noted. "The primary side effect is the erosion of the mind. When pushed to the brink, the user enters a state of psychosis. 'Possessed' is an accurate clinical diagnosis."
"Power without reason is just a wildfire," Luo Zhen sneered. "It burns hot, but it burns out. System, how long until Susu finishes him?"
"Hard to say. Madness is unpredictable. I estimate the battle will drag on for at least another day."
The System, for all its computational power, was wrong.
The deadlock broke in half at that time.
By midday, Master Qingyang's defense collapsed. He couldn't withstand the sharpness of the Heavenly Crystal Sword. With a flash of brilliance, Bai Susu severed his right arm.
"Arghhh!"
The scream was primal. Before Qingyang could recover, a barrage of sword Qi slammed into him like a hammer of god, blasting him out of the sky. He struck the beach with the force of a meteor, sending wet sand and debris flying.
When the dust settled, Qingyang was a pitiable sight. No legs. One arm. His body was a fountain of foul-smelling, black blood. He had been reduced to a torso, barely two feet of flesh and hatred remaining.
"Hateful... Hateful!"
Qingyang's face twisted, his expression one of a cornered beast. "Since I began my cultivation, I have never suffered such a loss! Bai Susu! Just you wait! When I recover, I will peel your skin and grind your bones into dust!"
Bai Susu descended slowly, her feet touching the sand without leaving a print. She looked at the stump of a man before her with icy indifference.
"Do you really think," she said softly, "that you will have a chance to recover?"
"You think you can kill me?" Qingyang laughed, a wet, gurgling sound. "Open your eyes!"
The Blood Demon Sword vanished, absorbed back into his body. Then, with a scream that tore at his vocal cords, Qingyang detonated his final remaining arm.
Bai Susu frowned. This was the terrifying nature of blood cultivators—their bodies were merely ammunition.
Now, Master Qingyang was nothing but a head and a chest. The exploded arm transformed into a thick, hovering mist of blood. But he wasn't done. He convulsed, heaving violently, and spat out a massive mouthful of his Essence Blood—the core vitality of a cultivator.
The cost was immediate. His hair turned stark white in a single breath. His skin withered, clinging tightly to his ribs like parchment. He aged centuries in a second, returning to the desiccated, zombie-like form he had worn when they first met.
The Essence Blood mixed with the mist of his sacrificed arm. It swirled, thickened, and calcified, forming a skull the size of a rice bowl.
It was a nightmare object. The Blood Skull was etched with glowing, profane runes that pulsed like a dying heart. The process had taken less than two seconds.
Bai Susu moved to intercept, but the ritual was too fast.
"Bai Susu! You want my life? Take this first!" Qingyang cackled. The skull shot forward, a streak of red lightning.
Bai Susu's expression hardened. She raised the Heavenly Crystal Sword, channeling every ounce of her energy. The air around her warped, forming a massive, semi-transparent barrier of storm winds—a wall of shredding force.
"Sever!"
She swung down. The storm surged forward to crush the skull.
But then, the impossible happened. The Blood Skull didn't collide with the storm; it turned incorporeal. Like a phantom passing through a wall, it drifted effortlessly through her ultimate defense. It solidified only at the last microsecond, slamming directly into Bai Susu's chest.
Thud.
Bai Susu stiffened. She vomited a mouthful of blood, her face turning paper-white. Her concentration shattered, and the storm she had summoned evaporated into the breeze.
"Hahahaha!" Qingyang's laughter was jagged and wild. "My Blood Skull Curse Seal! How does it taste? Once that mark is on you, you are walking dead!"
Buoyed by his success, the limbless torso of Master Qingyang floated upward, intending to strike the weakened woman.
Boom!
A hundred-meter-long shadow of a green blade materialized from the treeline, moving with the speed of judgment. It smashed into the floating torso, driving Qingyang back into the sand with bone-shattering force.
Luo Zhen flickered into existence, standing protectively in front of Bai Susu.
"Hmph," Qingyang grunted, struggling to lift his head from the crater. "I almost forgot about the little mudfish hiding in the weeds."
He looked at Luo Zhen, then at Bai Susu. She was heavily injured, yes, but the killing intent in her eyes hadn't dimmed. Qingyang did the math. He was a torso with no limbs and depleted blood. If he stayed, he would die.
"Fine," he spat. "My condition is... suboptimal. I will let you live today. But mark my words: once I heal, I will come for your heads."
Without waiting for a retort, Qingyang burned the last dregs of his energy, transforming into a streak of bloody light that shot toward the horizon. Within seconds, he was gone.
Luo Zhen didn't chase. He turned immediately to Bai Susu, helping her sit on a flat rock.
"Susu, how bad is it?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but instead, another gout of blood spilled past her lips. However, Luo Zhen noticed this blood was dark and clotted—purgative blood. Her color returned slightly after expelling it.
"I was careless," she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I didn't think he would use a technique as vile as the Blood Skull Curse Seal. But don't worry too much. That move cost him at least a hundred years of cultivation. He's in worse shape than I am."
"I don't give a damn about him," Luo Zhen said, his voice hard. "I care about you."
"I'm... stable," she admitted, closing her eyes. "I used my bloodline power to suppress the curse, boxing it in. But if I don't remove it, it will take root. It will spread through my meridians, eating my flesh and corrupting my bloodline."
"How do we remove it?"
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head weakly. "I've never seen this specific curse before."
Luo Zhen felt a cold pit open in his stomach. But before panic could set in, the familiar mechanical voice chimed in his head.
"Host, I have a solution for the Blood Skull Curse Seal."
Luo Zhen's eyes widened. "What is it?" he asked internally.
"My awakened memory banks are limited, so I cannot offer a method to completely erase the curse instantly," the System cautioned. "However, I can provide a method to significantly delay its onset. We can buy her time—years, perhaps—until a permanent cure is found."
"Tell me," Luo Zhen commanded. Even a delay was a victory right now.
"It is simple in theory, brutal in execution," the System said. "You must hunt down Demon King-level beasts. Specifically, you must harvest their Demon Infants."
The System continued, its tone clinical. "Just as a beast's core can be refined into medicine, the Demon Infant—the crystallized soul of a high-tier monster—is a potent reagent. If you bring me these harvested souls, I can fuse them into a 'Mystic Infant Pill.' This pill acts as a counter-agent, suppressing the curse in her blood."
"The more powerful the Demon Infants you hunt," the System added, "the stronger the pill, and the longer she lives."
Luo Zhen looked at the pale woman resting against the stone, then turned his gaze toward the dark forests stretching inland. His eyes hardened.
The hunt was on.