Chapter 47: You Died So Quickly? Trying to Scare Me?

Amidst the dense fog, cries of agony echoed as one by one, the Yu clan disciples clenched their jaws so hard their teeth shattered. Yet, mingled with their fury was a growing sense of dread.

In mere moments, more than thirty Yu clan disciples had gathered around Yu Xuanzheng, with others still hurrying over. One disciple reached out and waved his hand through the air, then turned and said, "There's something wrong with this fog. It's as if it has taken root!"

Ordinarily, even the thickest fog would be swept aside by the gust of wind raised by a slashing blade. But this mist remained utterly motionless. He wasn't the only one to notice—many had tried on their way there, but no matter what they did, the fog would not budge. Some had even hoped to use their blade winds to disperse the fog and broaden their field of vision, but it was simply impossible.

As the screams around them gradually faded, those near Yu Xuanzheng grew tense, their vigilance heightened as they watched their surroundings closely. All the while, Yu Xuanzheng gripped his blade with both hands, silently calculating the enemy's position.

Suddenly, hundreds of crimson threads shot out from the fog, winding toward Yu Xuanzheng and his group. His eyes widened, a fierce grin curling at his lips. "Got you!"

He vanished where he stood. In the mist, the flash of his blade erupted like a raging river, and everything within its arc—brick, stone, wood, and earth—was ground to dust. Even half a Yu clan disciple's corpse was reduced to a cloud of bloody mist.

"Not there?" Seeing the half-corpse swept into his blade light, Yu Xuanzheng knew he had been tricked and immediately spun his blade into a defensive whirlwind. But at that moment, dozens of blood threads shot from the fog on all sides; they were shredded into bloody vapor before reaching him. Yet from this bloody mist, dozens of venomous blood needles shot forth, faster and more penetrating, clashing against the blade light with sharp impacts. Though most were deflected, a dozen or so pierced through and struck Yu Xuanzheng.

A talisman on his body flared, enveloping him in a protective azure glow that clung close to his skin. The needles struck the barrier, causing the light to flicker uncertainly, dimmed by the assault, but it seemed still able to withstand another dozen such blows.

Yu Xuanzheng sneered inwardly. Though the Azurewood Spiritlight Talisman was expensive, it had saved him more than once. Yet tonight, its power was depleting far more quickly than usual.

He had little time to think, for a dozen blood serpents as thick as thumbs lunged from the fog. "Tricks of the trade!" Yu Xuanzheng roared, slashing his blade in a sweeping arc that shredded the serpents into another cloud of bloody mist. But in the next moment, the mist coalesced into blood threads that latched onto him.

The azure light at his skin dimmed rapidly upon contact with the blood threads; what had seemed a solid shield now looked as thin as paper, ready to tear at any moment.

"This cursed blood is eroding my protective aura!" The realization struck Yu Xuanzheng, his heart hammering wildly. He quickly activated another Azurewood Spiritlight Talisman, thickening the light around him, but the first layer was instantly torn apart, and the second began to fade at an alarming rate.

"Such potent blood corruption! Where is the Third Elder?" He cursed inwardly, knowing the shield would not last much longer. Gritting his teeth, he dashed toward the Yu clan manor.

Passing the courtyard where he had been moments before, he found only a chilling silence. The two or three dozen disciples who had gathered there were now nothing but pools of blood, which instantly turned into hundreds of blood threads, weaving a vast net to ensnare him.

"If that blood net catches me, my shield will be gone in a heartbeat!" Yu Xuanzheng thought grimly. Letting out a tiger's roar, he swept his blade like a roaring river, shredding the net into a spray of blood mist.

Not only the blood net—every house, courtyard, even ornamental stones in his path were obliterated. Like a cannonball, he shot toward the clan manor.

His protective aura flickered, on the brink of collapse, and Yu Xuanzheng's eyes burned with rage. But at that instant, another dozen blood serpents struck him from behind, each spewing more blood needles.

The azure light burst like a bubble, the needles piercing into Yu Xuanzheng's flesh. The blood clinging to his shield now swarmed over him like starving demons.

"Third Elder!" Yu Xuanzheng's eyes bulged, blood trickling from his nose and ears as it bored inward. After staggering another few dozen paces, he let out a final, furious roar and collapsed.

Unhurried footsteps approached through the fog; a figure gradually appeared. Gou Changqing, picking at his ear with an air of disdain, sneered, "So you’re Yu Xuanzheng? What good is shouting? Trying to scare me?"

"How come there’s only half of you left? Died so quickly—trying to frighten me?"

In truth, he was somewhat shocked. Yu Xuanzheng’s blade techniques were ferocious; any building or courtyard in his way had been obliterated, leaving nothing but pebbles the size of a fingertip. Anyone caught in that would have been utterly destroyed.

After attaining the second level of Qi Refining, Gou Changqing had lost most interest in this world's martial arts. He was, after all, a cultivator now; if he still had to toil away at martial arts, what would be the point of all that cultivation? Wouldn’t it be a waste?

Still, Yu Xuanzheng's blade skills were impressive enough to tempt him.

Seeing only half of Yu Xuanzheng’s body remained, Gou Changqing swiftly rummaged through the bloody remains and torn clothes, retrieving a palm-sized embroidered pouch.

It felt heavy in his hand. Opening it, he burst into wild laughter.

Inside was a small space, roughly half a meter in each dimension. Small, yes, but it was still a spatial pouch!

It even contained several items within.

Without pausing to investigate further, Gou Changqing picked up Yu Xuanzheng's blade. It was hefty, the surface marked with forge patterns like scales, its edge cold as ice and snow.

All things considered, it was a cultivator’s weapon—and from a member of the Yu clan, no less. The blade must be worth something.

As Yu Xuanzheng dissolved into a pool of blood, Gou Changqing turned to leave. The blood eventually coalesced into a blood serpent and leaped to his forearm, where streams of pure blood essence and a trace of spiritual energy surged into him.

"Hm?" Gou Changqing paused, sensing that he had finally discovered the right way to employ the Flesh and Blood Refinement Technique.

Until now, he had only devoured spectral beings, Awakened ones, and ordinary Yu clan disciples.

In that other world, spiritual energy was dozens of times scarcer than here, and Awakened ones relied on their own abilities, unlike cultivators. Though there were auxiliary medicines like the Qi Channeling Pill, their path was entirely different. As for spectral beings and Yu clan disciples, they possessed only blood essence, not spiritual energy.

But now, after devouring a Qi Refining cultivator, he found spiritual energy flowing back into himself as well.

Yu Xuanzheng, a first-level Qi Refining cultivator, had provided him with twice as much spiritual energy as expected.

After consuming those Yu clan disciples, his own spiritual energy had already reached a bottleneck. Yet under the impact of this fresh surge, the barrier was quietly breached within a dozen heartbeats.

A new cycle of spiritual energy began within him, his capacity expanded, and even his body underwent subtle changes—every cell seemed more active, almost jubilant.

Level three of Qi Refining!

The sense of fullness inside him vanished with the breakthrough, replaced by a hunger in every cell, craving more blood essence.

"So these cultivators are the real key!" Gou Changqing grinned, his smile growing ever brighter, ever more bloodthirsty.

As he laughed silently, he heard the rapid whoosh of someone flying overhead—a speed far surpassing Yu Xuanzheng’s.

"Yu clan’s Third Elder, Yu Wentao?" With a smile still on his lips, Gou Changqing held his breath and crept away, not daring to make a sound.

If a first-level cultivator like Yu Xuanzheng was hard enough to handle, Yu Wentao would be even more formidable. Unfortunately, there were still Yu clan disciples lurking in the fog—he could hear their breaths and heartbeats in the nearby courtyards.

He would spare them—for now.

A furious shout rang out in the distance: "Where are the Yu clan disciples?"

"Third Elder!"

"Third Elder!"

Those who had hidden in silence now called out in relief. Where once there had been nearly a hundred Yu clan disciples, only a scant two dozen answered now.

Yu Wentao’s eyes blazed with murderous fury. "Demon, I swear I will kill you!"

With a sweep of his sleeve, nine streaks of black light flew out, darting like lightning through the fog.