Three Steps, Three Kills

That vessel was none other than the Destiny Armament that Manor Lord Yao kept displayed on his own table—the [Life-Nourishing Vessel]! And what these Demon Sect cultists were doing now was quite simple. Whether these [Great Medicines] had finished brewing or not, under the assault of the Red Armored Guards, they had to recover the Blood Pills as quickly as possible and minimize their losses. Calm down. An Jing channeled Tranquil Sword Contemplation, drew a deep breath, and steadied himself: “These men... are no weaklings!” He couldn't use the gun, because it made too much noise. And if he couldn't end the fight at top speed, other Demon Sect people would be drawn here, and then there'd be no way to rescue the other children in the dungeon. Of the three cultists, An Jing recognized one—Instructor Han, who taught martial skill, whose strength was second only to Chief Instructor Li. The other two were new faces, or perhaps simply people who'd never met the children. An Jing's brow furrowed slightly. Instructor Han's strength was considerable—at the peak of Inner Breath Like River, a notch above An Jing's own, and he practiced External Body Tempering martial techniques as well. His body was burly and powerful, his skin a matte brass color that looked quite hard. The other two had weaker auras, but one was at Inner Breath Like River and one at Inner Breath Like Silk—both martial artists. If it were only one of them alone, he could easily ambush and kill him, but with two it would be nearly impossible to keep them from sending out an alarm, and with three, utterly impossible. “The living are, in the end, more important than the dead... My goal is to rescue those children locked in the cells. As for these instructors... forget it.” Right now, An Jing made himself calm down. His feelings toward the Demon Sect were complicated, and his feelings toward these instructors—people he'd spent a very long time with—were more complicated still. If these instructors took the Blood Pills and Great Medicine and simply left, then he'd just take the children and go. They'd part ways from then on, and ideally never meet again. But if... An Jing was grave, and the cultists were just as grave. “Damn it, why is this so slow?” Instructor Han still had blood on his face; his brow was tightly knitted now, and filthy curses poured from his mouth without pause. “These are life-saving pills—every moment we're slow means another brother dies sooner!” “Why does this Life-Nourishing Vessel normally condense Blood Qi so fast? Why's it this damn slow now?” “Sir, a Destiny Armament needs someone whose Destiny Pattern corresponds to it before it can be properly wielded,” the younger one's voice explained. “Within the manor, the only one with the Borrowing Qi to Return the Soul Destiny Pattern is the Manor Lord himself. For us to use it, we can only take it slow...” “Shit!” Instructor Han spat to the side, looked west, and said hatefully, “Damn those Red Armored Guards! Damn that traitor!” “Even the Northern Circuit Envoy is being held off. We can't keep fighting—once we've collected the Blood Pills and healed our brothers, we leave at once!” An Jing watched this scene intently. The Northern Circuit Envoy was a great figure within the Tianyi Sect—one of the two Divine Hidden Real Men who'd been fighting in the distance earlier. A figure of that level had come to Suspended Fate Manor surely because of the sacrificial rite. If he hadn't rebelled, and if there were no Red Armored Guards, then it should have been the Northern Circuit Envoy who took him and Bai Qinghan and the other children who'd awakened Destiny Patterns to the Tianyi Sect's home mountain. The three were still absorbing Blood Qi and condensing Blood Pills. In the process, the weakest young cultist said with feeling, “Bad luck though it is, those injured brothers really have turned misfortune into a blessing... Blood Pills—I only ever got one when I worshipped Heaven and joined the sect. After they heal this time, their skills will all surely advance by leaps and bounds, won't they?” “I wonder when I'll ever have enough merit to be granted a reward.” “There should be one.” Instructor Han looked toward Suspended Fate Valley and said gloomily, “This time I even saw two beams of starlight shooting skyward within the valley—there must be two Extraordinary Destinies emerging. In the past, that would earn every one of us martial artists a Blood Pill as reward!” “If among them there's a Constellation Heavenly Official, an All-Fiends Divine General, a Mystic Yin Divine Maiden, or even a Holy Son of the Seven-Fiend Destiny, then it wouldn't just be a reward of flesh-and-blood Great Medicine... our entire Northwest Diocese would soar to the heavens, chickens and dogs and all!” For a moment he was lost in fantasy, but such daydreams always pass. Instructor Han soon lowered his head and waved his hand impatiently. “Back to work, back to work... These vats of Fate Bones haven't even dissolved yet; converting them is just too inefficient.” “Right—there are still some little things in the dungeon.” At that thought, Instructor Han looked toward the dungeon, a vicious glint in his eyes. “They're all material we don't need, but we can't leave them for the dog emperor either... You, keep drawing out the Blood Pills. You, go to the vault, take out all the top-grade Destiny Armaments, then destroy the vault!” “Whatever we can't take, we can't leave for the dog emperor!” “Yes, Captain!” With that, he pressed one hand on his sword hilt and strode toward the dungeon. His footsteps on the ground actually rang out with the sound of metal and stone clashing. Clearly, in his earlier battle with the Red Armored Guards, Instructor Han had been running his Inner Breath at full force, and his whole body had turned like metal and iron. As he neared the dungeon, his elbow casually brushed the stone railing beside him, and the rail—built from the mountain's blue-green stone—had a chunk squeezed off as if it were tofu, yet Instructor Han didn't notice in the least. Bronze Skin, Iron Bones! An Jing, who had been clenching his fists, felt his pupils contract. Instructor Han's External Body Tempering ability probably came from his awakened “Destiny Pattern”—it had already surpassed his Inner Breath realm, and in terms of defense, even Manor Lord Yao was no match for him! Could his own fiend sword break through those Bronze Skin, Iron Bones? Even if it could, how much Inner Breath would it consume—could he handle three people? Judging by Manor Lord Yao's performance, against a prepared martial artist, bullets probably wouldn't work well either; even if he could kill them, the noise would be too great and they'd absolutely be detected. But... after hearing the enemy say they'd “dispose of the little things in the dungeon,” An Jing's heart instead grew calm, and all distracting thoughts and tension vanished. So that's how it is. So they won't even leave them the chance of dying in the fire, left to fate? An Jing was not angry. He merely found it a little absurd: “It seems I'll have to dispose of some old things as well.” It was time to fight. He'd just obtained three Qi-Raising Pills from Manor Lord Yao's hand. Without hesitation, An Jing swallowed one directly. He couldn't be stingy now—use it when it should be used! Instructor Han chose to go clean out the youths in the dungeon—the easiest task—but the two young cultists took it as only natural. They answered in acknowledgment and each set to their own work. One continued to wield the Life-Nourishing Vessel and draw out the medicinal power; the other headed toward the courtyard on the other side. The three-man group was down to two, an opening had appeared, and he could launch a sneak attack. “That Jade Ritual Dagger is, after all, a dharma implement. It can serve as a foundation to condense a keener Blood Qi fiend sword.” The Sword Spirit offered, “With blood as the source and the blade as the medium, you can condense a ‘Blood Fiend Sword’—tougher and stronger than an ordinary fiend sword.” Fine. Without the slightest hesitation, An Jing took out the Jade Ritual Dagger, cut open his palm, smeared the blood along the blade, and by the method the Sword Spirit had taught him, condensed the blood fiend. Wisps of crimson aura rose from An Jing's blood. Taking the edge of the Jade Ritual Dagger as its source, they condensed into a hazy, illusory Blood Fiend Sword. Not only that—as the Qi-Raising Pill dissolved in his belly, An Jing felt a blazing, searing flame ignite within his body. The blazing essence-qi swelled and spread through An Jing's body, setting his blood and qi boiling, red vein-like patterns surfacing across his face, and a wild urge to roar rising in his chest and belly. The medicinal power mixed with his primal qi, and thread by thread Inner Breath condensed out from his meridians, his flesh, his five viscera and six bowels, filling An Jing's Qi Sea that had been somewhat drained. “Hm?!” The burly Instructor Han had been considering just what methods to use to kill the children in the dungeon, refining their life force to condense more Blood Pill Great Medicine, when suddenly he caught a faint whiff of blood. His eyes went wide: “Something's wrong!” Instructor Han had meant to turn and face the enemy, but the instant he turned his head, he caught the wisp of medicinal fragrance—even Bronze Skin, Iron Bones couldn't block the Meridian-Severing Powder carried on the air. Even though it hadn't taken effect at all, it still made him instinctively falter for a moment: “Deputy Envoy Yao's powder?!” And in that very instant, a figure radiating rolling waves of heat descended from the sky, thrusting down with a sword that raised a shrill, whistling howl! The fierce wind blew Instructor Han's hair streaming backward. Before his eyes, a sword-shadow was rapidly expanding, until it filled his entire field of vision, stabbing straight at his only vital point—his eyeball! Instructor Han hastily raised a hand to shield his face. He had Bronze Skin, Iron Bones—ordinary weapons absolutely couldn't break his External Body Tempering; at most they'd leave him dizzy and reeling. —Just endure this one strike, and there'll still be— Before he finished the thought, the silver-gleaming blood-colored fiend sword ran through his palm, pierced his eyeball, and drove all the way into his brain. Gurgle. The blade twisted, the figure pulled the sword free, drawing out dripping blood and grayish-white brain matter. “What?” Only now did the young cultist who'd been absorbing Blood Qi sense something was wrong. He turned his head, but already saw a figure with blood-red eyes charging to kill him. The cultist instinctively crossed his arms to block, but the next instant he found, to his shock, that his arms had already been severed at the elbows, and a youth stood before him holding a sword, his eyes flowing with crimson, murderous light. Chak. Spinning, spinning. In the spinning, he saw his own neck, his own back, his own legs, and then the rocky ground... and darkness. “Captain, what's going on?” The young cultist who'd earlier been ordered to fetch the “precious Destiny Armaments” heard the commotion and had now returned. He stepped into the courtyard in confusion, and before he could see anything, was hit by a strong reek of blood. Then he heard a loud bang! Boom! An Jing stomped one foot on the ground, exploded upward with force, and like a gray eagle pouncing on its prey, slammed sword-first into his chest! Thud! Boom! The sounds of a collision and a fall rang out; two figures lay fallen on the ground, and only one figure stood. The young cultist's chest and belly had been split open by a huge wound, his ribs all snapped, his organs spilling out—blue costal cartilage, green entrails, red blood streaming all over the ground. And the eyes that were rapidly losing life stared fixedly at An Jing with an incredulous look, his expression one of utter horror. Hummm. With a sword's cry, the Blood Fiend Sword in An Jing's hand had gone from those first wisps to nearly solid, flowing with blood-flame like a river. In less than ten breaths, the fiend sword that had drunk deep of three men's blood radiated a crimson glow that lit up the entire courtyard. And An Jing, his face shrouded in shadow, watched it all in silence, slowly exhaling a breath of blood-red air.