To ordinary people, eighteen years was a long stretch of time.
Some people cried, "Eighteen years from now, I'll be a good man again!" For them, those eighteen years were an entire lifetime.
Eighteen years encompassed marriages, funerals, and births—a generation's worth of time.
For cultivators, eighteen years was somewhat long.
It was enough for several rounds of seclusion, with one or two of them lasting especially long. After all, below the Other Shore Realm, no one could truly abstain from food. Given enough time, they still had to consume something, even if it was only Pills.
Only upon reaching the Other Shore Realm, when vital essence gave rise to refined essence, could one keep the body from decaying.
For supernatural beings, eighteen years could be no more than a single breath taken in sleep, or it could be a time when every day felt like a year, spent in constant dread.
The difference between long and short lay in whether they had been discovered.
Over those eighteen years, Qin He gradually raised the reward for hunting supernatural beings from double to tenfold. There was no other reason—he had more merit than he could ever spend.
In eighteen years, he would have to charge through Mount Yin. He had to tear out the roots of the supernatural beings in the Abyss World.
He would exhaust every effort to ensure they would never have the chance to rise again.
After all, idleness was still idleness.
Under generous rewards, brave men would surely emerge; under tenfold rewards, everyone displayed their own divine methods.
The Spirit-Slaying Army was promptly subdivided into spirit-hunting teams, scattered into every corner of the four continents. They even ventured deep into the Sea of Fury.
Digging three feet into the ground became digging thirty.
Many supernatural beings listed