Within a cave dwelling on Kunlun Mountain, it was so quiet that one could hear dust settling.
Yang Chen sat cross-legged, his eyes closed.
Yet within his body lay a vast and magnificent scene.
A single drop of blood transformed into a surging ocean, roaring through every inch of his muscles, bones, and flesh. It was the power of the Ancestral Dragon—pure, tyrannical, and filled with the brutal force to tear everything apart. Every heartbeat stirred that ocean, causing the strength of his physical body to rise continuously at a terrifying rate.
At the center of his Purple Mansion spiritual altar, a seven-colored divine flame floated silently, burning. The flame was not large, yet it radiated immense vitality enough to nurture an entire universe. It was the Phoenix Clan's Nirvana Fire, his final trump card in the event of Death of Body and Dao, and the foundation of his immortality and indestructibility.
And all of it was borne by a heavy, steady, boundless force. It was the Law of Earth originating from the First Qilin. It had merged with his True Spirit, establishing some profound and mysterious connection between him and the primordial land beneath his feet.
Attack, defense, life.
The dragon's mighty power, the qilin's profound virtue, the phoenix's immortality.
The final legacies of the three ancient overlords had formed an almost perfect cycle within him, a debtor who should have been settled.
Compared to before he resolved the karma of the three clans, his strength was now worlds apart.
After a long while.
Yang Chen slowly opened his eyes.
A flash of indifferent golden light passed through the depths of his pupils, instantly branding two bottomless holes into the stone walls of the cave dwelling.
He raised a hand and lowered his head to inspect his palm.
Its lines were distinct, as though engraved with the veins of mountains and the courses of rivers.
An unprecedented strength filled every part of his body.
Yet there was not the slightest joy in his heart at his explosive increase in power.
Instead, there was only emptiness.
An immense, unfillable sense of emptiness drowned him like a tide.
This power... is indeed strong. But possessing it is far less delightful than taking it. True pleasure lies in watching those three lofty ancient overlords gradually break beneath my coercion, personally offering up the origins they were so proud of in humiliation and despair. That is the true feast.
He had resolved the karma of the three clans.
No.
It would be more accurate to say that he had squeezed his three greatest creditors dry, skin and bones alike, extracting even their final scraps of value before swallowing them and turning them into nourishment for his own growth.
The thrill of toying with ancient overlords in the palm of his hand and forcing them to offer up their origins, the excitement of watching his strength soar like a rocket, still echoed deep within his Divine Soul.
Now, everything was over.
The winds were calm and the waves still.
The remnants of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin Clans had been completely broken. They curled up in a corner of the Sea of Karmic Force, reduced to three trembling specks of dust without even the courage to look up at him.
Outside the cave dwelling, the dragon clans of the Four Seas had already retreated, leaving behind only the eternal silence atop Kunlun Mountain.
This ease made him feel an inexplicable irritation.
He tried to calm his mind and breathe in and refine the dense innate spiritual energy within the cave dwelling.
Yet the spiritual energy that had once benefited him so greatly now tasted as bland as plain water after entering his body.
This is what they call cultivation? Sitting in meditation for tens of thousands of years like a stone, all to absorb this pitifully thin energy? How tedious. How dull. I have already tasted delicacies snatched directly from the gods' table. How could I possibly turn back to gnaw on dirt?
Too slow.
Compared to the leaps he had made by directly devouring origins before, this turtle-paced cultivation was simply torture.
Once one had grown accustomed to a lavish feast, who could still care for leftovers and cold scraps?
Yang Chen rose from the stone bed.
He paced back and forth through the small cave dwelling, the power within his body restless for lack of an outlet.
This peace is practically agony. This tranquility is more like a cage. The power in my body is roaring, craving new nourishment, craving new prey. My Dao was never one of sitting still in meditation. It is a road to the heavens paved with the bones of creditors. To stop is to decay.
Living off what he had already gained was not his style.
He had already tasted the sweetness of that feeling.
The feeling of using his own abilities to make creditors willingly—even weeping and begging—deliver benefits right into his hands.
He was addicted.
"This won't do."
Yang Chen stopped pacing and muttered to himself.
A glimmer of light reignited in his eyes, the light only seen when a hunter had locked onto prey.
"System."
His voice echoed through the empty cave dwelling.
"Scan my karmic network. Are there any other particularly 'plump' threads?"
He paused, the corner of his mouth curling into a dangerous arc as he added another condition.
Matching wits with old foxes like Phoenix Ancestor and First Qilin was interesting, but mentally exhausting. It is time for a change of pace.
"Preferably the sort of creditor with deep reserves, immense foundations, a bad temper, and a screw loose—the kind that bristles at the slightest touch."
He was no longer content to wait passively.
He wanted to take the initiative.
To seek out the next target with whom he could "negotiate amicably" and "reason things out."
The System's mechanical voice sounded emotionlessly in his mind.
[Scanning the host's karmic network...] [Scanning...] [Detected a strong karmic entanglement with the Witch Clan.] [Back then, Demon Ancestor Rahula and Pangu's true body battled in the west, forming a grudge. This karma has been inherited by the host.] [Furthermore, the host possesses Ancestral Dragon Essence Blood. His physical body and vital energy are exceptionally powerful, and his aura naturally resonates with that of the Witch Clan, making it highly likely to attract their attention and hostility.]
The Witch Clan?
Yang Chen froze for a moment.
His eyes suddenly lit up.
Perfect! It is practically tailor-made for me! A bunch of brutes who recognize nothing but fists and respect neither Heaven nor Earth. What need is there for schemes when dealing with them? Their bodies are treasure vaults, and their essence blood is supreme medicine. This "debt dispute" should be wonderfully simple and direct.
They were a group of genuine brutes!
A group of battle-crazed maniacs who cultivated only their physical bodies, respected neither Heaven nor Earth, worshiped no Saints, and even dared to challenge the Heavenly Dao!
Former absolute overlords of the primordial world!
And most importantly.
They were simple-minded and believed that fists were the only truth.
"Reasoning" with them would surely be very, very interesting!
Yang Chen straightened up and dusted off his clothes, though there had never been any dust on them.
The emptiness and irritation weighing on his heart instantly vanished, replaced by the excitement of beginning a brand-new hunt.
When dealing with calculating old hands like Phoenix Ancestor and First Qilin, he had to put effort into arranging scripts and playing mind games.
But the Witch Clan...
They probably would not require so much trouble.
An incomparably brilliant, expectation-filled smile appeared on Yang Chen's face.
Ah, this damned, intoxicating sense of anticipation. I wonder what the origin essence blood of the Twelve Ancestral Witches tastes like?
"Good. They are the ones!"
"The next target: the Witch Clan!"
His voice carried a trace of irrepressible excitement.
"I hope you... do not disappoint me!"
Before you continue