Luo Yue met Chu Xingchen's gaze but detected no trace of abnormality... At the very least, Chu Xingchen appeared far more composed than Xie Lingyu, who stood beside him with an odd expression.
Taking a deep breath, Luo Yue felt a faint clarity return to its previously muddled consciousness. Too much time spent in confusion had blurred its memories, leaving only the most crucial events intact—making it seem somewhat foolish in hindsight.
Upon reflection... it wasn’t impossible for all eighteen primary spiritual veins to have been seized.
For millennia, they had remained untouched simply because no one dared to defy the world’s judgment.
But once the first step was taken... hesitation vanished.
Humans loved gambling with small stakes for massive gains. Even if the odds were slim, the allure of immense profit drove them to act recklessly.
And wasn’t it the same for itself?
Back then, hadn’t the Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect’s plan seemed like a long shot? Yet it had staked everything on that sliver of hope, only to end up in this wretched state.
The Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect had succeeded—only to discard the promises it had made.
Humans... were untrustworthy. Back then, it had been blinded by a distant, illusory dream, losing all sense of caution.
Indeed, since ancient times, anything worth having had to be taken by one’s own hand—never by relying on others.
Noticing Luo Yue lost in thought, Chu Xingchen quickly assessed the situation. He squeezed Xie Lingyu’s hand, silently signaling her to prepare for battle.
Anyone who had participated in the Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect’s rebellion back then couldn’t possibly be an easy mark.
Moreover, it was clear that Luo Yue’s demands were tied to the eighteen spiritual veins of the Central Continent—conditions far beyond what Chu Xingchen could fulfill now.
After all, equivalence mattered in all things. Trading small for big either required risking one’s life or was outright deception.
Everything had a price. Everything demanded sacrifice.
What went unnoticed now would inevitably be repaid in full later.
Negotiations were impossible, yet his own objective couldn’t be abandoned.
If talks broke down, violence was almost certain.
Luo Yue’s gaze refocused, its face softening into a gentle smile:
"Since we’ve reached this point... why don’t you first tell me your purpose for coming here?"
"If I said I was here for archaeology..." Chu Xingchen began, but seeing Luo Yue’s amused expression, he swiftly changed tack.
"You wouldn’t believe that anyway, so let’s be frank—I stumbled upon this secret realm and came out of curiosity, hoping to scavenge something useful. Since I’ve disturbed you, how about I just leave?"
The situation wasn’t ideal. Fighting while protecting Xie Lingyu was risky. Though Luo Yue’s aura fluctuated wildly and felt feeble—almost like a reanimated Mahayana corpse—it was better to err on the side of caution. He’d retreat and let Senior Bai deal with it later.
Luo Yue nodded amiably. "Of course, I’ll see you out. But feel free to report this place to your sect. The things here are of no use to me, and the terms of trade are negotiable..."
As it spoke, it raised a hand and pointed toward Chu Xingchen and Xie Lingyu.
Pure white spiritual energy coiled around the two.
Intricate ritual patterns materialized beneath their feet.
Luo Yue’s expression remained earnest, as if still hopeful for a future deal.
Chu Xingchen mirrored the smile, feigning interest in the proposal.
Luo Yue’s grin widened, as though graciously forgiving their grave-robbing trespass.
But in the next instant—
A barrage of embroidery needles, forged from ten thousand techniques, shot forth, aimed straight at Luo Yue’s seemingly unguarded form.
Clang!
Luo Yue blocked the assault with an outstretched palm, its white spiritual energy clashing fiercely against the incoming needles.
Two overwhelming forces tangled in a deadly dance, their residual shockwaves reducing the small hut to rubble in seconds.
Luo Yue’s brows furrowed in anger. "What is the meaning of this? I offer you mercy, yet you spit on it?!"
"Mercy?" Chu Xingchen sneered. "Do you take me for a fool? The ritual beneath me—is it teleportation or soul-binding? Layers of illusion swirl around us. Did you think I wouldn’t notice just because I don’t specialize in illusions?"
Luo Yue’s fury vanished instantly, replaced by eerie calm.
Humans truly were hard to deceive.
Then again, a race skilled in deception would naturally devote even greater effort to avoiding being fooled.
Luo Yue stepped forward, fist replacing its open palm as spiritual energy surged through its body.
A single punch lashed out, its crushing pressure near-tangible, sending the needle barrage flying.
Its current strength was but a fraction—no, a thousandth—of what it once was.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even truly alive anymore.
But that didn’t mean this former Mahayana cultivator would cower before a mere Nascent Soul cultivator.
It just required... slightly more effort.
Right now... it needed a vessel. It still had unfinished business.
Luo Yue’s eyes narrowed as it advanced.
Chu Xingchen summoned back the needles, now reshaped into a long saber. In the next breath, bloody energy erupted from his body, devouring everything in its path.
Nearby, even the leaves of distant trees withered instantly.
Against illusions, the cultivation methods and techniques of Li Xingtian held particular advantage.
Blood energy, like Li Xingtian himself, remained unswayed by external temptations.
Li Xingtian did not indulge in carnal desires.
Blood energy did not lust after dazzling spiritual energy.
Through it, Chu Xingchen could keenly perceive his surroundings.
But Luo Yue clearly wasn’t limited to illusions—that punch had been formidable.
The saber, now sheathed in bloodlust, thirsted like a beast for carnage.
Chu Xingchen raised the blade.
Torrents of sanguine power erupted from its edge, darkening the sky itself.
The surrounding blood energy raged like a tide, transforming the world into a hellscape of pure slaughter, its murderous intent staining heaven and earth crimson.
Clad in armor of swirling blood, Chu Xingchen’s pupils burned scarlet. His habitual gentle smile, amplified by the blood energy, twisted into the grin of a bloodthirsty killer reveling in disdain for life.
Heaven-Treading Great Method—Boundless Sea of Blood!
If Li Xingtian were here to witness his Nascent Soul successor’s even more gruesome display... he might have frozen in shock.
"A demonic cultivator?!" Luo Yue’s eyes narrowed at the overwhelming purity of the blood energy.
Such refined malevolence!
Was this brat lying to deceive it...
Or had orthodox sects now begun recruiting demonic practitioners?
Just what was happening in the outside world?
If even humans couldn’t coexist peacefully, how were its kind supposed to survive?
The blood energy churned, forming a crimson ocean of annihilation that crashed toward Luo Yue—a mere speck against its vastness.
"Fist of Revelation!"
Luo Yue’s cold shout accompanied a single devastating punch.
The fist’s momentum condensed spiritual energy into a crushing force.
As it descended, radiant white energy clashed head-on with the blood sea, refusing to yield.
Chu Xingchen tensed under the pressure of such refined skill.
At this point, holding Xie Lingyu’s hand was no longer an option.