Chương 61: Chapter 62: Yu Meiren’s Intervention

Steadying his turbulent mind, Reyn forced himself into a state of deep meditation. The agonizing throbbing of his physical wounds made the process grueling, and it took a full quarter-hour of sheer willpower before he could even begin to touch the threshold of tranquility. Time lost its meaning in the darkness.

It was only when the first faint streaks of dawn began to bleed across the horizon that a few threads of icy-cool spiritual energy finally flickered into existence within his dantian, beginning a slow, agonizing crawl through his shattered meridians. Reyn's eyes snapped open, a flicker of relief momentarily masking the exhaustion etched into his features. With a strained gesture, he channeled those precious few wisps of spiritual energy into his storage bag, retrieving several jade vials of medicinal pills.

He glanced briefly at the various ten-thousand-year treasures he had plundered from the Sealed Land. While those primordial herbs possessed the potency to knit his flesh and bone back together almost instantly, Reyn hesitated. Such peerless treasures were far too rare to be consumed raw; their efficacy would only be truly realized if refined into high-grade pills. After a moment of cold calculation, he stowed them away.

"With these pills, my recovery should be swift enough," Reyn muttered to himself, his voice raspy. He forced his numb fingers to break the restrictive seals on the vial's neck, tipping several emerald-hued pills into his palm before swallowing them in one gulp. The medicine dissolved the moment it touched his tongue, transforming into a violent torrent of spiritual energy that erupted within his chest. The surge raced through his mangled meridians like liquid fire.

"Ngh!" A muffled groan escaped Reyn's throat. His face went deathly pale, and beads of cold sweat broke out across his forehead. The sensation was akin to thousands of jagged needles being driven through his veins simultaneously. The spiritual energy, though healing, was relentless, scouring his damaged pathways with agonizing force. Reyn gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles bulging as he endured the bone-deep torment, allowing the medicinal power to slowly stitch his internal wounds back together.

Only when the torrent of energy had been mostly exhausted in the repair of his organs and vessels did the searing pain begin to recede, replaced by a soothing, cool numbness. Reyn remained motionless, seated in a meditative lotus position, continuously refining the medicinal dregs as his internal condition gradually stabilized. Nearby, a man named Li Liwen watched from the shadows. Li was an ordinary rogue cultivator, a scavenger who had stumbled upon a fragmented scroll of Five Elements Spells in his youth.

Through a lifetime of deception, theft, and cold-blooded murder, he had scraped his way to the 5th level of Qi Condensation—a minor figure among the dregs of the cultivation world. However, Li knew the bitter truth: he had hit a wall. Without a miraculous stroke of luck, his journey would end at the Qi Condensation stage, his life eventually flickering out like a guttering candle. But Li Liwen was a man of insatiable ambition. He refused to accept a mundane death.

For years, he had ventured into the most desolate mountain ranges, hunting for treasures that others feared to seek. He had survived encounters with terrifying beasts through sheer cunning, and once, by a stroke of divine fortune, he had discovered a 2nd-level Multi-eared Monkey that had been mortally wounded in a territorial dispute.

He had slain the beast, sold its inner core at a black-market auction for a bottle of twenty Spirit-Gathering Pills, and used them to propel himself to the 7th level of Qi Condensation. If he could reach the 8th level, he would have the standing to join a major sect, secure a Foundation Establishment Pill, and perhaps—just perhaps—soar into the heavens as a true Foundation Establishment master. Half a day ago, Li had sensed the shockwaves of a titanic struggle.

The sheer pressure of the auras suggested Foundation Establishment experts, likely at the mid-stage or higher. Where others would have fled in terror, Li saw opportunity. If the tigers fought to the death, the jackal might feast. Steeling his nerves, he had ignited his escape light and raced toward the source of the disturbance. The fluctuations had reached a fever pitch before abruptly vanishing, the auras of both combatants plummeting into nothingness.

"Could they have perished together?" Li's heart hammered against his ribs. Even if they hadn't died, they were surely crippled. The thought of plundering the storage bags of two mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators made his hands tremble with a mix of fear and greed.

"Dammit, the source was definitely here. Why is there no trace of a struggle?" Li's expression was grim as he swept his Divine Sense across the terrain, finding nothing but scorched earth and silence.

"Did they flee after the blow dealt?" The thought of losing such a windfall made his stomach churn.

"Wait… no!" His Divine Sense snagged on something. Li's eyes widened, and a look of manic joy flooded his face. He blurred forward, his escape light flickering as he descended toward a pile of gore. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. It was the remains of Xuan Liao. After the demonic energy had dissipated, the corpse had plummeted from the sky, turning into a mangled heap of flesh and shattered bone.

However, the storage bag at his waist remained pristine, resting amidst the bloodstains like a beckoning jewel.

"A storage bag!" Li Liwen's breath came in ragged gasps. He didn't even bother to wipe away the blood as he snatched the bag, sending a pulse of spiritual energy into the seal. As his Divine Sense swept the contents, his face turned a vivid, triumphant red.

"I'm rich! I'm finally rich!" he hissed, his voice cracking.

"With these treasures, Foundation Establishment is a certainty. If my luck holds, even the Golden Core Dao is within my reach!" Li Liwen was no fool; to reach his current level with only a fragmented manual required both talent and a ruthless heart. He possessed an Upper-grade Spirit Root, and with the resources of the fallen Breeze Sect now in his hands, he could truly change his destiny. If he left now, his future would be bright. But greed is a poison that knows no bottom.

His gaze drifted to the solitary figure sitting cross-legged a short distance away.

"That man survived the clash. His cultivation and treasures must be even superior to this one. If I take his bag too, my path to the Golden Core will be paved in gold!" Li's eyes burned with a predatory light. He carefully tucked Xuan Liao's bag into his robes and crept forward, extending his Divine Sense like a spider's web. He was prepared to bolt at the slightest hint of danger, but to his surprise, he felt no spiritual pressure from the stranger.

The man's life force was a mere flicker, a candle flame dancing in a gale.

"Heaven is on my side! The Dao itself has decreed that I, Li Liwen, am destined for greatness!" He laughed silently. Yet, his cautious nature remained. Even against a dying man, he would not take risks.

"Strike!" He spat out a three-inch-long flying dagger, glowing with a fierce crimson light. This was a low-grade Spirit Tool, a prize he had claimed after murdering an 8th-level Qi Condensation cultivator. He had nurtured it within his own body for years. The dagger transformed into a streak of red lightning, screaming through the air toward Reyn's skull. Suddenly, a blur of white appeared beside Reyn. A woman with ethereal, jade-like features frowned as she casually waved a hand.

Without any visible exertion, the flying dagger's momentum vanished instantly, its tip diverted into the empty air. Li Liwen recoiled in shock. He stared at the breathtaking woman, his initial fear quickly replaced by a surge of lustful heat. He let out a coarse chuckle.

"A ghost slave? And only at the 5th level of Qi Condensation? You think a mere spirit can stop me? A pity… once I kill your master, you'll dissipate into nothingness. Unless… if I grow strong enough, I might find a way to re-manifest your body. Then we could… heh heh…" Yu Meiren's brow furrowed, a murderous chill erupting in her eyes.

"Presumptuous ant. You seek death."

"I seek death? Let's see who dies first!" Li Liwen's face twisted into a snarl. He performed a series of rapid hand seals, and the crimson dagger shuddered, erupting with a blinding red radiance as it lunged at Yu Meiren. Yu Meiren's expression turned solemn. Back in the Sealed Land, her cultivation had already plummeted to the Early Golden Core stage.

After the desperate battle to break the seal against Chu Dian and the Ghost Corpse, her physical body had been destroyed, and her Primordial Spirit had nearly shattered. Now, she possessed only the strength of the 5th level of Qi Condensation. She possessed a thousand divine techniques, but lacked the spiritual power to manifest them.

"Demonic Flames Arise—Burn!" she whispered. Strands of black miasma coalesced out of thin air, transforming into spheres of pitch-black fire that wove together into a protective shroud. The flames were as dark as ink and felt unnervingly cold, emitting a discordant, ghostly wailing that rattled the soul.

"Demonic arts!" Li Liwen's pupils contracted. He felt a surge of trepidation. Demonic cultivators were notorious for their treacherous methods and soul-tainting powers. If his flying dagger—his bonded Spirit Tool—was corrupted by those flames, the backlash would cripple him. He recalled the dagger with a wave of his hand and reached into his storage bag, pulling out a small, unassuming wooden bead with a hole bored through its center.

It looked like a common pebble, but Li's face twinged with pain at the thought of using it. One more use, and the Buddhist power stored within would be spent forever. But he looked at Reyn, and his greed won out.

"Go!" He poured his Qi into the bead. Suddenly, the drab object erupted with a brilliant, golden Buddhist radiance. Faint Sanskrit chanting echoed through the air, and the golden light surged, forming illusory images of seated Buddhas. A wave of pure, righteous energy swept outward. The bead accelerated, trailing a wake of golden light as it crashed toward Yu Meiren.

"A Buddhist artifact!" Yu Meiren's face darkened. For those on the demonic path, Buddhist treasures were a natural bane. In her prime, such a pittance of holy power wouldn't have merited a glance, but now, it was a lethal threat.

"Demonic Flame Vortex—Manifest the Fiendish Soul—Devour!" Despite the danger, Yu Meiren remained cold and detached. She tapped the air with a slender finger. The swirling black flames expanded into a massive vortex several meters wide. Dozens of translucent, screaming demonic wraiths surged out of the darkness, throwing themselves at the incoming golden bead. Sizzle! The collision of the demonic souls and the Buddhist light sounded like cold water hitting boiling oil.

The air erupted in a violent hiss of steam and shadow. As the demonic wraiths entered the golden aura, they let out agonized shrieks, their forms purified and dissolved in an instant. Yet, with every soul destroyed, the golden light dimmed slightly. The wraiths, sensing their doom, showed no fear, biting and clawing at the radiance before they vanished. As her summons were extinguished, Yu Meiren's complexion grew increasingly ashen, her aura flickering as her strength drained away.