Half a minute into their brutal clash, the labored wheezing of Jiu Hao signaled the end of his endurance. The once-unbreakable Stone Hide began to fail, the dull, mineral sheen of his skin fading into a sickly, grey pallor before gradually reverting to its vulnerable state.
Luotian grinned through the blood on his face. Jiu Hao's defense had finally failed. He reactivated Pinnacle Flash Lightning, golden arcs wrapping his battered body.
But that wasn't the limit of his desperation.
Luotian poured every remaining ounce of Theríon into maximizing his speed and attack power. Even the reserves he had previously used to reinforce his internal defenses were redirected to fuel his final offensive capabilities. His body thrummed with a high-pitched vibration of raw energy, his aura crackling like a pressurized storm ready to explode outward.
He fixed Jiu Hao with a cold, ravenous look—the kind of look a butcher gives to livestock in the heartbeat before the slaughter.
Jiu Hao felt the physical weight of that gaze and froze, a sudden, icy chill running down his spine that bypassed his massive muscles. Panting, his chest heaving with exhaustion and no Theríon left to reactivate his Stone Hide, he could only mutter a single, dread-filled realization.
"Oh, crap."
In an instant, the figure of Luotian vanished from the physical world.
What followed was a terrifying blur of motion. Within seconds, hundreds of slashes tore through the massive frame of Jiu Hao. The wet sound of blades cutting through layers of flesh echoed across the silence of the battlefield. Before anyone could comprehend the scale of the massacre, Luotian reappeared in front of the thunderstruck giant, his back turned and his hand raised.
He snapped his fingers.
Boom!
The structural integrity of Jiu Hao's body failed all at once. His form erupted into thousands of pieces, scattering blood and viscera across the parched soil in a crimson rain.
Wu Neng dropped to his knees, pale and retching. He had seen the killing blow, but the sight of Jiu Hao's remains was more than he could bear.
"It's over, Village Head," Feng Luotian said as he walked over to Wu Neng and gave him a grounding pat on the back.
Wu Neng reacted instantly, shifting his weight into a deep, desperate kowtow, his forehead pressing firmly into the blood-stained earth. "Thank you, my lord!! Thank you!! Thank you!!"
From across the clearing, the other villagers witnessed the gesture and hurried over, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and salvation. One by one, they followed the example of Wu Neng, kneeling in solemn reverence until the sound of knees hitting the dirt filled the silence.
Luotian looked down at the sea of bowed heads, his brows furrowing slightly as the black flames of his aura began to flicker and thin. "What are you all doing? Please, get up."
"No, my lord!!" Wu Neng firmly declared, his voice muffled by the ground but unyielding. "You truly deserve this courtesy and respect from us. Not only have you freed us from this crisis, but you are also from the Demon God Clan."
Hearing this, Luotian sighed inwardly, the name of the clan hitting him with the sense of responsibility. "Alright, I understand, but excuse me for a moment!"
Without waiting for any further replies or explanations, he vanished in a blinding flash of golden lightning.
Wu Neng's words explained the villagers' sudden reverence. Luotian wanted to talk to them about the clan, but he had no time to spare.
The duration of Last Dance Curse was nearing its end. He could feel the cold, hollow pull of the countdown in his marrow; if he didn't collect enough souls before the nine minutes expired, his cultivation would drop by two full levels—a catastrophic setback he couldn't afford. To lose that much progress now would make every drop of sweat he had shed in the past three weeks meaningless.
Focusing entirely on the grim task at hand, he first approached the scattered remains of Jiu Hao.
///// Soul collected: +40% energy » Five Fangs (68%) /////
A pleasant, albeit tired, smile crossed his face as the black gaseous flame absorbed the essence of the fallen leader. "As expected from a soul three levels higher! Even though one soul of this level would normally let someone breakthrough two levels in a row at Fang Realm, forty percent is still pretty good."
Next, he moved toward the headless corpse of Mao Quanzhou, which lay cooling in the dust.
///// Soul collected: +15% energy » Five Fangs (83%) /////
///// Ability – [Evil Cyclone]: Generate one cyclone every time the user's melee attack hits the target, that can be used to either attack or heal the user's injury. /////
///// [Evil Cyclone] Level 5: Maximum of 5 cyclones at a time; each melee hit generates a cyclone for either attack or healing. /////
"What?! I gained another ability just like that? This is great!!" Luotian exclaimed, leaping with excitement. Along with the energy from Mao Quanzhou's soul, he had obtained Evil Cyclone.
But as the realization settled in, he frowned slightly, shaking his head with the greed of a true master. "Damn. If I could've gotten Evil Typhoon as well, that would've been perfect. So unfortunate."
The heavens themselves seemed to roll their eyes at his audacity; even after acquiring such a world-shattering ability, he couldn't help but desire more.
"Is this just a lucky win that I can gain abilities from the souls I collect, or was Mao Quanzhou's bloodline simply that strong?" Feng Luotian pondered aloud, his thoughts swirling with a restless curiosity.
He suspected CRONOS was responsible. But with no one to explain how it worked, he had no way to be certain.
"Well, let's wait and see how things unfold," he eventually decided, shaking off the theoretical cobwebs.
Rather than getting caught up in the labyrinthine task of mapping CRONOS's limits, Luotian chose to remain open to whatever might come. If acquiring a vast arsenal of more abilities was truly possible through soul harvest, he would gladly embrace the power. If not, his path remained the same as it had always been—focused on the slow, meticulous climb to the top.
He moved on to the bandits lying across the village's front and center. One by one, he drew out their souls, the black flames carrying their energy into his core.
However, despite gathering a significant volume of raw energy from the rank-and-file bandits, no new abilities or skills manifested after the initial acquisition from the vice leader.
He collected the tenth soul before the time limit expired, fulfilling Last Dance Curse's requirement and avoiding the loss of two levels. He continued gathering the remaining souls until the task was complete.
Then he deactivated the ability. His appearance began to return to normal, the darkness receding from his eyes.
The pulsing, crimson cracks of blood vessels around his eyes smoothed over, restoring his youthful countenance to its normal state.
As a final reward for the brutal morning's work, the accumulated energy from the massive soul collection surged through his meridians, propelling him forward with a violent heat. A powerful breakthrough followed, the air around him rippling with the force of his rising cultivation.
Luotian stood amidst the silent battlefield, his aura stabilizing as he successfully ascended to Six Fangs.
///// Six Fangs (15%) /////
///// [Last Dance Curse] Level 6: Temporarily increase the user's level by 1 for 10 minutes. However, the user must collect 10 souls within this time. Failure to do so results in a decrease of 2 levels. /////
///// [Momentum Eyes] Level 6: Allows the user to perceive the momentum and trajectory of objects within a 45-meter radius. /////
///// [Evil Cyclone] Level 6: Maximum of 6 cyclones at a time; each melee hit generates a cyclone for either attack or healing. /////
///// [Pinnacle Flash Lightning] Level 2 (95/100): Wrap the user's body in lightning. Speed +300%. Lightning Resistance +4%. Attack +20%. /////
"My lord, here is the other gauntlet. Would you like their remaining weapons as well?" Wu Neng asked, approaching from behind. He held out Jiu Hao's second gauntlet, its ivory claws gleaming in the morning light.
Behind the village head stood several men hauling three large sacks stuffed with rusted iron and leather—the spoils of a hard-won battle.
"Just this one is enough. Thank you, Wu Neng," Luotian said, taking the weapon and placing it into his spatial ring with a practiced flick of his wrist. His gaze then shifted, growing heavy with a new focus. "What was their goal? Can I see it?"
With the immediate threat to the village extinguished, Luotian returned his attention to the true heart of the conflict: the bandits' original objective.
"Of course, my lord. Please follow me," Wu Neng replied, leading him toward a sturdy hut near the center of the settlement. "It's in my home. Please, come inside."
"Excuse me," Luotian said as he stepped through the threshold, the scent of dried herbs and old wood greeting him.
The moment he crossed the entrance, a small figure barreled into him with the force of a stray cannonball, nearly knocking him off balance. It was Wu Xin, who threw her arms around his waist in a frantic, tight embrace, her face buried into his travel-worn chest. "Big Brother, are you okay? Thank you for helping us!" she sobbed, her small voice trembling with the aftershocks of terror.
"Don't worry, Wu Xin. I'm fine, and everything's okay now," Luotian reassured her, his expression softening as he gently stroked her hair to calm her sobbing.
Wu Ya rose to greet him with a respectful bow. Tu Lingxi remained on a low couch. Her face was still pale, though some color had returned to her cheeks as she recovered from the fright.
"Are you all right, Little Sister Tu?" Luotian asked, his tone soft but laced with genuine concern.
"I'll be fine in two hours at most," Lingxi replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to project a strength she didn't quite feel yet.
"You don't have to push yourself too hard," Luotian said, his eyes reflecting a depth of experience she couldn't fathom. "It's normal to feel shaken after facing death for the first time. After all, you're just a kid."
The eyes of Lingxi narrowed sharply at his last remark, and she glared at him with sudden, fiery indignation. "Hmph! Who are you calling a kid?" she snapped.
She was only a year younger than Luotian, and as someone who prided herself on her maturity and cultivation, she found his condescension deeply offensive. Of course, she had no way of knowing that the mind of Luotian was functionally fifty times older than her own.
"That's enough, Wu Xin," Wu Ya interjected, gently prying her daughter away from Luotian. The young girl resisted, clinging to his tunic like glue, but Wu Ya eventually managed to pull her back. "Your big brother has important matters to discuss with your father."
Wu Neng motioned for Luotian to follow him to the hindmost room of the hut, where the air felt noticeably cooler and hummed with a low-frequency vibration.
When Wu Neng opened the door, the eyes of Luotian were immediately drawn to the centerpiece of the chamber: a small altar adorned with intricate, ancestral decorations. Floating just above the wood was an egg-sized black bead that emitted a faint, mysterious energy. The bead pulsed like a slow-beating heart, releasing invisible waves of force that connected to a series of magic circles etched into the floor. The intricate lines glowed with a dim, spectral light, their power feeding off the energy radiating from the floating artifact.
While the energy itself was imperceptible to the naked eye, its sheer, heavy pressure could be felt by anyone within the room, making the very hair on their arms stand up.
"Just an Underworld Orb? I see now," Luotian muttered, his voice calm but tinged with a sudden understanding as he observed the pulsing artifact.