The Path of the White Stag was adept at concealment.
Unlike the ostentatious, thunderous displays of the Path of Tianyuan, its adherents lurked in the darkest of blind spots, sometimes hidden thousands of miles away. Yet when they struck, it was like a white rainbow piercing the sun, a comet striking the moon, or a goshawk swooping down upon a palace hall.
Even on the verge of death, they could erupt with unimaginable power.
Just like the Flying Light of Hunting Fingers Ji Jue had seen before, An Ning's weakest blow had been enough to bury a wolf in blood.
If the highest realm of the Path of Tianyuan was to subdue the enemy without fighting, then the most exquisite facet of the Path of the White Stag was that very dread—a dread that left all adversaries chilled to the bone, terrified to ever face them openly.
Until a White Stag truly moved, no one could tell when, where, or under what circumstances the thunderclap would fall.
By the same token, this meant that when a follower of Tianyuan was forced into open battle, they were already at a disadvantage; and the moment a White Stag truly showed himself before an enemy, he lost his most terrifying threat!
While the man was still masking his form and hiding within the shadows, Ji Jue had not even noticed when he boarded the Prosperity. In fact, before using the Mirror of Contained Forms, he had not known of the man's presence at all.
He had merely doubted the number of enemies.
Only when Siebert charged straight toward him had a seed of suspicion truly sprouted. Still, the Path of the Swarm was not without ways to track an enemy. With arts like Vow of Vengeance or Blood Guidance, they could sense someone's location from halfway across the waking world.
It was only when Siebert's companions were dead, yet Siebert refused to flee and kept pressing him relentlessly, that Ji Jue had confirmed his true purpose.
The instant secrecy was lost, the ambush had already half-failed.
Yet instead of seizing the chance to run, the man had been proud enough to launch a sudden strike from the opening. Ji Jue could barely contain his delight.
Such breathtaking fighting spirit, such a surprising secret weapon, such steady, resolute confidence—he had to be a standout among wolves, right?!
What a shame. He was not.
"So you're number three."
Ji Jue lowered his gaze to glance at the razor-sharp gleam protruding from his chest and let out a sigh of regret.
A strike charged and suppressed for so long had pierced right through the defense of Immovable as a Mountain, breached the reinforcement of Earth-Bearing and Sea-Embracing and the blessing chain of Non-Offensive, impaled his flesh, and acted upon his very soul.
A strike guaranteed to hit once unleashed!
One had to admit it was honed to perfection through thousands of trials.
The instant the strike was loosed, Ji Jue had found no opportunity to defend, let alone room to dodge. There was even the illusion that the strike had already pierced him before the man had belatedly launched his attack.
It practically inverted time.
The moment the man resolved to strike, his enemy was already impaled!
The matchless iron radiance hovered between being and non-being. In a flash, it pierced the armor and the heart, jutting out from Ji Jue's chest. The power contained within pinned down both soul and flesh at once. As the iron light shattered and erupted, what spewed forth was a savage gleam of murderous intent so pure it bordered on monstrous.
It was just like the arrow of heart poison Ji Jue had once shot at Kanemoto. The instant it made contact, it seeped inward through every crack, annihilating all spiritus, shredding all souls, and dissolving all consciousness.
In theory, that was indeed how it worked.
Too bad Kanemoto was a master artisan, whereas Ji Jue—the sinister monstrosities lurking in his soul were infinitely stronger than this small fry!
Chunjun trembled ever so slightly, effortlessly turning away the soul-sweeping shock wave as though deflecting a negligible breeze, without sustaining the slightest damage.
His soul reflection, crowned with seven horns and blazing with the flames of Untimely Death, simply crunched and swallowed this murderous blade of malice invading his soul like a snack.
It even tasted a bit bland.
As for the simultaneous destruction of his physical body—Ji Jue's heart had been pulverized in an instant, but before that, it had already turned to metal, severed from the surrounding tissues.
A momentary collapse, immediately followed by the control of Three-Phase Alchemy, mended and recast it back to its original state, without leaving so much as a scratch.
And when a strike fails to kill, what comes next...
Is my turn!
In that split second, before the newly revealed White Stag could even attempt to retreat, he saw Ji Jue's form swell rapidly.
No, it was not Ji Jue swelling.
It was the Dragon Mountain armor, abruptly splitting apart as if in an explosion!
From helmet to breastplate, top to bottom, it unfolded like a rug. Then, countless parts and mechanisms shot from Ji Jue's body like living things, roaring open to swallow the stunned White Stag into its belly!
In an instant, the inside-out armor transformed into a cage.
Completely sealed.
Immediately after, bizarre spike-like structures wedged downward from outside in, piercing through the armor. Amidst the surge of quicksilver, Solid Alchemy froze them fast.
After a continuous series of crunching snaps, silence returned.
The second specimen, packaged and boxed away.
Next was the third right before him—
Siebert stood frozen in place, dazed, as if scared out of his wits, staring timorously at the scene. A fist that had been inches from Ji Jue's head could no longer bridge the remaining sliver of distance.
It was frozen in midair.
Ji Jue had clearly shed his armor and stood recklessly before him. The iron fist only needed to advance another inch to obliterate both body and soul.
Yet now, the blood flames coiled around that fist were dissipating at a speed visible to the naked eye.
His body was stiff and motionless, no longer obeying his will.
He could not budge an inch!
Only his expression twisted violently, struggling again and again, gradually lapsing into spasms, gradually filling with terror—
Not until the connection with his sacrificial lord was entirely severed, the monstrous stats vanished without a trace, and he was beaten back to his original state did he finally feel the belated agony.
His head, both arms, his abdomen, and even...
His heart!
Between the flesh and blood torn open by Pan Ying, a newly healed heart was exposed, along with a bone blade that had been plunged into it at some unknown moment.
It had only been the Jingzhen shock wave when Ji Jue pinned his head down, causing his consciousness and matrix to lose control for an instant amidst the spiritus impact.
Yet that single instant had decided his fate.
Mercy had snapped out from Ji Jue's mechanized wrist, piercing into the heart to seize control of this spent body.
It forcibly severed the link between soul and flesh, cut all nerves, and thoroughly ossified the ligaments and muscles.
The victor had been decided, but not just now.
It was decided the moment Ji Jue had lost interest.
Now, amidst the remnants of the storm, dead silence reigned inside the Prosperity. Only three Celestial Chosen bodies, coated in quicksilver and vacuum-sealed, lay before the craftsman.
Waiting to be sorted.
"One, two, three... Just three?"
Out of habit, Ji Jue pulled out a calculator and began tallying: "One is completely corrupted. Leaving aside blessings, it's moderately useful as material. Twelve hundred per hundred grams, maybe? Feed it a bit, and it might gain a few hundred jin.
"A White Stag—sigh, a White Stag.
"I've killed too many White Stags. The body is useless, the soul can be kept as a battery, and who knows how long it'll take to pry out the blessings for retail. Better bundle it off to the Balance Chamber of Commerce.
"And a Swarm, a blank-slate Regeneration rank who freeloads off his sacrificial lord. Even a dog would shake its head at this. How did you three manage to be such scrubs?
"That's all?"
Ji Jue frowned, glanced down at the completely paralyzed Siebert, and asked abruptly, "Any more?"
Siebert was numb, his pupils trembling and contracting in horror.
"I'm asking you—"
Ji Jue leaned in impatiently, that cold face looking down at the material about to be dismantled:
"—are, there, any, more?"
...
Siebert's lips twitched, struggling to part, but no sound came out.
Engulfed in that shadow, he finally experienced—
What was called despair.
After a long night of labor, Ji Jue finally cleaned up the mess those fellows had left behind, sorting, dismantling, and preserving the materials while he was at it.
Time was tight and freshness was paramount, so the interrogation step was automatically skipped.
Not like asking would yield anything anyway.
Everyone was just an on-demand thug taking jobs on the Desolate Market. Doing this kind of lethal business face-to-face was bad for everyone, so almost no one bypassed the platform to contact the employer directly.
Even if he asked, he wouldn't learn a thing.
Ask, and they'd just say the times forced their hand, life in the Mid-Continent wasn't easy, everyone was struggling to survive, and it would only ruin his appetite for nothing.
Getting ambushed before even stepping through the door was unlucky enough; there was no need to add to his own grief.
Take a note for now, and look into it slowly later!
By the time dawn broke, Ji Jue had finally finished repairing the battered, nearly unrecognizable Prosperity.
If Isis were here, why would it take so much effort? A hundredfold boost from the Hand of Isis would have settled it in no time.
Fortunately, the Riot Cats loaded in the hold awaiting delivery were intact. Otherwise, poor Lou, who had just pulled an all-nighter of overtime and sent seven or eight sixty-second voice messages, would probably have coughed up blood.
Only now did Ji Jue have the time to reach out, draw Pan Ying from the secret ritual, and inspect the insignia on the blade's spine.
Behind the familiar marks of the sacrificial lords—Mycelium and Scar—there was now a scant half of a brand-new crest, instantly revitalizing Ji Jue's spirits!
A drop!
After more than half a year and killing so many Swarm guys, he had finally struck gold again!
Except, why was it only half?
Ji Jue frowned and ran his finger over it. Instantly, the sacrificial heritage originating from the lord surfaced in his heart.
Six Past Ghosts of Heaven: Blood Wrist!
As one of the six sacrificial lords formerly ranked among the Six Evils, unlike Mycelium's holistic integration or Scar's exchanging wounds to grow stronger, the boon granted by Blood Wrist perfectly matched Ji Jue's stereotype of Swarm adherents—stats, stats, and damn well more stats.
Stats were the only reason to play Swarm!
The effect of Blood Wrist was simple: consume your own blood and spiritus to multiply your strength! The more blood spent and the more spiritus burned, the more absurd the amplification became, scaling exponentially!
Double it! Double it! Double it again!
So long as your constitution held out, crushing mountains and shattering the heavens with a single punch was no empty boast.
Even a blind man imprisoned for ten thousand years, upon receiving such a sacrificial heritage, would probably marvel: *Such power—*
Regrettably, the price was a bit steep.
On the surface, the only sacrifices required were your own blood and spiritus, but within the sacrificial heritage, that truly meant life and soul.
In short, it docked your upper limit.
With every use, a portion of life and soul was consumed. The more you used it, the more it drained, and that drain doubled as well!
The more carried away you got, not only would advancement stall, but your rank might even drop from excessive exhaustion.
As for showing restraint—the Swarm knew no such thing!
If you were part of the Swarm, fighting was like eating and drinking; the concept of harmony didn't exist in your head.
The more you resonated with the sacrificial lord, the more you grew accustomed to and reliant upon this power, and in turn, the more you overestimated yourself.
A slight slip, and doubling too many times would blow you to pieces.
Or your swollen ego would provoke an unbeatable foe and get you crushed flat. Even if you won, excessive consumption could easily lead to an early grave.
Moreover, while the boon was active, excruciating agony would rob the inheritor of all composure, throwing them into total berserk fury.
Rage was an inherent part of the boon itself, impossible to waive, making corruption extraordinarily likely.
It was undeniably useful, but it got people killed just as reliably!
So much so that over the years—as practitioners died, died, and kept dying—the lineage of Blood Wrist had long gone extinct!
As for the loser before Ji Jue, he had simply been broke and dug up a relic while grave-robbing. A blind cat stumbling upon a dead rat. Lacking guidance or instruction, he was a total amateur.
Having lost continuous sacrificial offerings, the wisp of spirituality left behind by the sacrificial lord Blood Wrist in Supreme Goodness was nearly worn away, hanging by a single thread before turning to ash.
Even its emblem was reduced to half!
Sensing the presence of Pan Ying now, that desperately faint wisp of spirit whined, almost lunging forward to cry 'Daddy.'
*Father, what took you so long to come back?!*
*I'm hungry, bring me something to eat!*
*Eat? Eat shit!*
Ji Jue glanced at the broken emblem on the spine and could not help but sigh. *Every single one of you pushes yourselves to the grave—you Swarm folks really know how to put on a show!*
A good thing was indeed a good thing. Unfortunately, Ji Jue was an Embers, completely lacking the perverse constitution of a Swarm!
His health and mana were limited, and Blood Wrist flatly refused to recognize anyone else's blood or mana. After all, 'achieving results through personal sacrifice' was the very essence of the Swarm, making it impossible to mindlessly stack numbers.
Then again, no one ever said Pan Ying had to be wielded by him alone!
Rubbing his chin in thought for a moment, he could not resist glancing at Little Niuma lying on its back nearby, staring blankly with its belly up.
Suddenly, he grinned.
Little Niuma shuddered out of habit, tucked its tail, and bolted without looking back.
Too terrifying!
For many, the long night passed in a flash.
Not only did the materials on Ji Jue's dissection table find the wait agonizing, but alarms were also blaring at the garrison base in Tacheng, Mid-Continent.
Due to the sudden storm, abnormal cloud banks had completely blocked the vital sea lane between Mid-Continent and the Federation!
The chaotic electromagnetic fields inside the storm had completely blinded all communications and positioning. Numerous vessels laden with crude phlogiston had dropped anchor to wait out the situation.
Amidst rumors and speculation, domestic phlogiston prices had already begun to fluctuate—god only knew which idiot had caused this, and everyone was cursing their mothers!
At this critical juncture, the Federation was on edge everywhere, ready to crack down hard on the slightest stir.
What were they playing at?
It was pure recklessness!
The Tacheng garrison base had entered a state of emergency. All personnel were recalled, and warships were being prepared for escort duty.
Pilots for fighter planes and airships had been on standby all night, ready to scramble at a moment's notice.
"Quite the commotion."
A burly major with a full beard puffed on a cigar, standing at the port and gazing into the dense fog that refused to disperse. "Heard they're after your friend?
"If you ask me, that friend of yours can't be very well-liked."
Beside him, Tong Shan shrugged, thinking hard for a moment.
Then, he nodded in unavoidable agreement.
"True. That guy, Ji Jue, doesn't really care about what others think sometimes." He paused, then sighed, "Still, most of the time he's thoroughly dependable. As a friend and partner, he brings peace of mind."
Major Liang Mo was taken aback, his brows furrowing. He had not expected such praise from the notoriously steady Tong Shan.
"More dependable than you?"
"Well, how should I put it—"
Tong Shan's expression grew complex. "In Xiaoxue's words—if things get so ridiculous that you can hardly count on me, then you ought to count on him."
"Sounds like a firefighter?"
"No, he prefers pouring oil on the fire. If you leave him alone, he'll blow the entire blaze sky-high along with the problem.
"If he can't win, then everyone loses together."
As Tong Shan spoke, he chuckled, thoroughly amused. "That guy's just like that."
"...That's too abstract. I can't even picture it." Liang Mo glanced sideways. "On the other hand, I'm curious. With an unexpected situation like this, why haven't you moved an inch?"
"Because there's no need."
Tong Shan shook his head calmly. "With materials delivering themselves to his doorstep, that guy's probably grinning ear to ear right now.
"Besides, there's no need to make a big fuss. The storm will clear up soon."
As if hearing his words, at the far end of the grayish-black sea, the persistent mist and heavy clouds began to scatter rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.
On satellite feeds, the abnormal weather was ending. And just as the massive electromagnetic interference cleared, the command center finally detected a signal that had appeared on the base radar without anyone noticing.
Practically right in their faces!
The moment it was picked up, it was already right on top of them!
Had it not been for the military identification signal and verification sequence, the radar and fire control systems would have shrieked alarms, throwing the entire base into high combat readiness.
And now, parting through the churning mists, an immense, pitch-black silhouette was steaming forward from the horizon in grand fashion!
"See? What did I tell you—"
Tong Shan gave a light sigh, patted his old friend's shoulder, and took the lead toward the berth.
Liang Mo was left standing there in a stupor.
Dazed for a long while.
Unable to hold back, he pulled the cigar from his mouth:
"Holy fuck—"
In the sea wind blowing against them, a familiar stench of blood and rot gradually drifted over.
Beneath the somber sky and over the iron-gray sea in the storm's aftermath, the cargo ship—advancing in silence like a nightmare—loomed larger until its true form was revealed.
Shedding armor plates, peeling hull paint, a battered ship body, and on the deck, a literal mountain of diverse monster carcasses—and from the mooring cables dangling off the bow, three corpses already disfigured beyond recognition!
A breeze blew past. The hollowed corpses swayed like bells, clattering against each other in the wind.
Whenever the wind blew through the gaping skulls, they wailed with a whistling whine, as if someone were playing a flute.
Viscous blood trickled down from the deck and the corpses, pattering into the sea like a sparse, cruel rain.
Drip, drop, leaving a crimson trail across the ocean in its wake.
It was like a monster straight out of a horror story...
Looking down disdainfully at every prying gaze, pressing forward on its own.
Laden with bones and death.
Through the storm of blood and wind, the Prosperity arrived in silence!
Chapter 566