The impact shook the earth.
Jiang Dao landed with the weight of a falling boulder, his two massive feet crushing the soil beneath them. He was a nightmare made flesh—waves of scorching heat radiated from his skin, a volatile mixture of Astral Qi and baleful energy swirling around him like a living storm. Jagged bone spikes protruded from his spine and elbows, glistening in the dim light, while a thick, muscular tail swept back and forth behind him, cutting through the air with a low hum.
Before him, Daoist Qingsong lay crumpled on the ground. The older man coughed violently, expelling mouthfuls of dark blood, his face drained of all color. He looked up at Jiang Dao, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and primal fear.
"You..." Qingsong stammered, unable to finish the thought.
It was one thing to encounter the twisted Evil Demons that plagued Yellow Wind Valley. But what was standing in front of him? This was a monster of a different breed entirely.
Jiang Dao cast a sideways glance at the Daoist but said nothing. He didn't have time for explanations. His pale golden pupils, reptilian and cold, slowly locked onto the bloody figure he had just swatted away with a single claw strike.
"How was that?" Jiang Dao's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating in his chest. "Yesterday, you got a hit in on me. Today, I returned the favor. Let's call it even."
A few dozen yards away, the bloody silhouette lay in a heap, resembling a pile of discarded offal rather than a human being. "Cough... cough..."
The figure was losing cohesion, its body turning limp and fluid, melting into a puddle of viscous, dark crimson liquid. It had no shape, no structure. But then, the puddle began to move. It twisted, writhed, and boiled.
Jiang Dao narrowed his eyes. The transformation was grotesque.
The dark red liquid surged upward, and suddenly, the surface of the entity was no longer smooth. It was covered in eyes. Hundreds of blood-red eyeballs, densely packed and frantic, popped open across the creature's surface. Each one was a map of burst capillaries, rolling wildly in their sockets like deranged gemstones embedded in flesh.
"Heh... heh heh..."
A mouth tore open amidst the sea of eyes, curling into a wet, sickening smile.
Jiang Dao frowned. His instincts, honed by countless brushes with death, screamed that something was wrong.
On the ground, Daoist Qingsong's eyes widened as realization struck him. He scrambled backward, screaming, "Retreat! Move, quickly!"
The bloody figure's mockery deepened. In the blink of an eye, the mass of eyes and fluid convulsed.
BOOM!
The entity detonated. It didn't just explode; it vaporized into a catastrophic tidal wave of pressurized blood and corrosive energy.
Jiang Dao's expression shifted from caution to alarm. He didn't hesitate. He snatched Daoist Qingsong off the ground by the collar and launched himself backward, his powerful legs propelling them away from the blast zone.
Pfft!
As fast as he was, the shockwave was faster. A wall of crimson force hammered into Jiang Dao's back, sending him and the Daoist tumbling through the air. His blood churned violently inside his veins, and he heard the sickening crack of his own bone spikes fracturing under the strain.
Where he had been standing a split second ago, the earth was gone. In its place was a massive crater, smoking and filled with the lingering, toxic energy of Blood Sha.
Jiang Dao skidded to a halt, his face darkening. "He self-destructed?"
It seemed too decisive. The strength the creature had displayed two nights ago didn't suggest a suicide bomber. Why throw away a life so cheaply?
"Cough... that wasn't his true body," Qingsong wheezed, dangling from Jiang Dao's grip. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "It was an avatar. His true form... when transformed by the Demon Sha... is at the Dragon Level. He wouldn't kill himself so easily."
"Not his true body?" Jiang Dao felt a chill.
That explained the sudden detonation. But it also meant the real threat was still out there, potentially watching.
This was not a place to linger. If a mere avatar could cause this much destruction, he had no desire to meet the main body right now.
Jiang Dao blurred into motion, carrying the injured Daoist like a sack of grain. He sprinted away from the crater, putting miles between them and the site of the explosion.
They didn't stop until they were completely clear of the Yellow Wind Valley perimeter. Jiang Dao finally slowed down, his monstrous features retracting as he reverted to his human form. He dropped Qingsong onto a patch of grass.
"To escape those monsters alive, you aren't exactly a normal wandering priest, are you?" Jiang Dao asked, cutting straight to the chase.
Qingsong took a moment to stabilize his breathing. "Cough. Thank you for the assist, my friend. I... I am actually an agent of the Imperial Dynasty's Divine Martial Alliance."
The Divine Martial Alliance.
Jiang Dao's eyes flickered. This was the second time he had heard that name. The first was back in Black Mountain Town, whispered by the gravekeepers of the Zhang family. It was the Great Yu Dynasty's secret police—the organization tasked with monitoring the supernatural and the chaotic undercurrents of the world.
"You came to investigate the blood sacrifices in White Spirit Prefecture?" Jiang Dao asked, his mind racing. "Did you find out what these things are?"
"I did," Qingsong admitted, his face grave. "But the implications are severe. I can only tell you this: the organization occupying the valley is called the Night Worship Sect. I cannot say more. It is for your own safety."
Jiang Dao studied the man. Qingsong was smart. He didn't know Jiang Dao's allegiance or his true power level. Keeping his mouth shut was the best way to ensure Jiang Dao didn't kill him to silence a witness.
"Is that so? A pity," Jiang Dao said dryly. "But that group in the valley is strong. Do you actually have a plan?"
"I need to report this," Qingsong said, urgency creeping into his voice. "There is a Divine Martial Alliance branch nearby. If I can reach them, reinforcements will arrive within three days. Once the elites arrive, these monsters won't stand a chance. But..." He hesitated. "I am worried they will flee before we return. My friend, would you be willing to monitor the valley for me while I'm gone?"
Jiang Dao fell silent, calculating.
Seeing his hesitation, Qingsong panicked slightly. He knew he was asking a lot. Who would willingly camp outside a den of monsters?
"Rest assured," Qingsong added quickly. "If you help me, the Alliance will ensure you are handsomely rewarded."
"Handsomely rewarded?" Jiang Dao raised an eyebrow. "With what?"
Internally, Jiang Dao was already considering it. He wanted the Divine Martial Alliance to show up. If a chaotic battle broke out between the government and the cultists, he could slip in, steal the Purple God Flower he needed, and vanish. Fishing in troubled waters was his specialty.
But he couldn't look eager. That would be suspicious.
"To be honest," Jiang Dao said with a shrug, "I don't really lack anything."
It wasn't a lie. He possessed two Sacred Artifacts—items that Spirit Removers would kill for. He held a Destiny Artifact capable of shaking the foundations of the world. Material wealth meant little to him.
He paused, tapping his chin. "Wait. Actually... do you have pills that enhance mental Spirit?"
His physical stats were monstrous, but his Spirit attribute was lagging behind at a mere 6.0. It was his only glaring weakness.
"I can authorize a high-grade bloodline purification pill," Qingsong offered.
"Pass," Jiang Dao scoffed. "Give me something for the mind. That might tempt me. Barely."
"A Spirit-enhancing pill?" Qingsong looked conflicted. Even in the Alliance, those were incredibly rare. He couldn't promise what he didn't have. "I... I can't guarantee a pill. They are too scarce. However, we have cultivation manuals for training the Spirit. If you want, I can use my authority to let you study one."
Jiang Dao's interest piqued. A technique to train the mind? That was better than a consumable item.
"A manual?" Jiang Dao smiled, a shark-like grin. "Done. I want the manual."
"Truly?" Qingsong let out a breath he had been holding.
"Truly."
"Good. Then I thank you." Qingsong struggled to his feet and bowed formally. "May I ask your name?"
"Jiang Liu," Jiang Dao lied smoothly.
"Brother Jiang, the valley is yours to watch," Qingsong said, preparing to leave. "Based on what I learned before I faked my death, their Sect Master and top lieutenants are currently incapacitated or in seclusion. As long as you don't charge inside, you'll be safe."
"Understood."
"I will return soon."
With a final bow, the Daoist turned and vanished into the woods, moving with surprising speed for a wounded man.
Jiang Dao waited until he was gone before finding a secluded ridge overlooking the valley. He hunkered down, suppressing his aura until he was little more than a stone in the landscape.
"The Night Worship Sect..."
They were bold. Wiping out the original inhabitants of Yellow Wind Valley and replacing them without anyone noticing required a level of organization far surpassing the local warlords.
With time to kill, Jiang Dao pulled out his Destiny Artifact. He sat in the lotus position, directing his internal Qi to suppress and bind the item.
Night fell.
Dark clouds smothered the moonlight. Jiang Dao opened his eyes, his senses on high alert.
Below, the silent, dead valley suddenly erupted with noise.
Lanterns that had been dark flared to life, casting eerie white glows against the canyon walls. The sound of a bustling market drifted up—shouting, laughing, the clatter of commerce.
"Are they evacuating?"
Jiang Dao crept to the edge of the ridge and peered down.
His blood ran cold.
The valley was empty.
The white lanterns swayed in the wind. The voices were loud, distinct, and layering over one another—but there was not a single soul on the streets. It was as if the air itself was speaking, a ghostly reenactment of a life that no longer existed.
"Interesting," Jiang Dao whispered, though his grip on the earth tightened.
Deep underground, far beneath the spectral noises of the surface.
The air in the subterranean palace was heavy, cold, and smelled of old iron. A massive bronze gate dominated the central chamber.
Suddenly, a wave of freezing pressure rolled out from behind the gate. The cultists gathering in the hall dropped to their knees in unison.
"We greet the Sect Master! Congratulations on leaving seclusion!"
"I have not left seclusion," a voice echoed from behind the stone, smooth and magnetic but carrying an undercurrent of terrible power. "My realm is unstable. I need to solidify the Third Turn. Blood Shadow, where are the others? Why is the hall so empty?"
The leader of the cultists—the man who had fought Jiang Dao—trembled. "Sect Master... there have been complications."
He recounted the events of the last few days, his head pressed to the cold stone floor. "I failed to protect the sect. I accept my punishment."
"No," the Sect Master replied. "If your Blood Dragon Exploding Hand couldn't kill him, he is Dragon Level. Perhaps even stronger. You are not to blame."
"Thank you, Sect Master," Blood Shadow said, relief flooding his voice. "But... the intruder. He was strange. He used no weapons, yet he radiated the aura of a Sacred Artifact. He was huge, covered in spikes and bone armor. And when I hit him, a fire poison invaded my body. It took days to purge."
Silence stretched in the hall. It was heavy and suffocating.
"Hands like a dragon... bone armor... fire poison," the Sect Master mused. "His true form is likely a Fire Flood Dragon."
"A Flood Dragon?" The cultists exchanged shocked glances.
"Yes," the voice behind the door continued, sounding intrigued. "You ambushed a dragon in human guise. That explains the poison. Leave him to me. I need ten more days to stabilize. Guard the entrance. Let no one disturb me."
"As you command!"
Five days passed in the blink of an eye.
Jiang Dao remained on his ridge, a silent sentinel. The valley continued its nightly routine of ghostly noises and empty streets.
During the wait, Jiang Dao continued to wrestle with the Destiny Artifact. To his surprise, he made a breakthrough. His internal Qi, mutated by the absorption of Yin energy from his other artifacts, established a link with the object.
When he pushed his Qi into it, the world warped. He looked down at his hands and saw... nothing.
Invisibility.
It only lasted a few minutes, but for a man of his skill set, a few minutes was an eternity. It was the perfect tool for a thief.
On the night of the fifth day, the weather turned. Heavy snow began to fall, blanketing the valley in white silence.
Jiang Dao snapped his eyes open. He felt it before he heard it.
Powerful auras were closing in from the north. They moved fast, tearing through the wind with aggressive intent.
"Qingsong's backup," Jiang Dao murmured.
He smiled, retreating deeper into the shadows of the tree line. He suppressed his breathing, his heartbeat, and his presence.
He wasn't here to be a hero. He wasn't here to join the Divine Martial Alliance's crusade.
The monsters and the hunters could tear each other apart. Jiang Dao was just here for the prize. When the chaos started, he would be the ghost in the machine, taking what he wanted and leaving nothing behind but footprints in the snow.