Three Steps, Three Kills

That vessel was none other than the Life-Nurturing Vessel, the Life Artifact Manor Master Yao had placed on his desk!

What these Demonic Cult disciples were doing now was simple.

Whether or not the Great Medicines had finished brewing, with the Red Armor Guards bearing down on them, they had to retrieve the Blood Pills as quickly as possible and minimize their losses.

Calm.

An Jing circulated Qingjing Sword Temple's teachings and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "These men... aren't weak!"

He couldn't use his gun; it would make too much noise. And if he couldn't end the fight as quickly as possible, other members of the Demonic Cult would come running. Then he'd have no way to rescue the other children in the dungeon.

There were three disciples. An Jing recognized one of them: Instructor Han, whose strength was second only to the chief instructor, Instructor Li. The other two were unfamiliar faces, or perhaps ones he'd never met.

An Jing furrowed his brows. Instructor Han was no pushover. He was at the peak of Internal Breath Like a River, already a level above An Jing, and practiced hard-body martial arts. Strong and powerfully built, with skin the dull bronze color of polished metal, he looked incredibly tough.

The other two had weaker auras, but one was at Internal Breath Like a River and the other at Like Silk Realm. Both were martial artists.

If An Jing were alone, he could easily sneak up on one and kill him. But with two, it would be nearly impossible to keep them from sending a warning. Three was simply out of the question.

"The living matter more than the dead... My goal is to rescue the children locked in the cells. These instructors... forget it."

At that moment, An Jing forced himself to calm down.

His feelings toward the Demonic Cult were complicated, and his feelings toward the instructors he'd spent so much time with were even more so.

If these instructors took the Blood Pills and left, he'd simply lead the children away. They'd part ways, and it would be best if they never met again.

But if...

An Jing was tense, and the disciples were just as tense.

"Damn it, why's it taking so long?" Instructor Han still had blood on his face. He scowled, cursing nonstop. "These pills are life-saving medicine. Every minute we waste means another brother dies!"

"Doesn't this Life-Nurturing Vessel usually refine blood essence fast? What the hell's slowing it down now?"

"Sir, a Life Artifact can only be wielded properly by someone with the corresponding Fate Grid," the younger one explained. "The only person in the manor with the Borrowing Qi to Return Soul Fate Grid is the Manor Master himself. We can only do this slowly..."

"Damn it!" Instructor Han spat to the side and glared westward, his voice full of resentment. "Those damned Red Armor Guards! Those damned traitors!"

"Even the Northern Patrol Envoy has been held up. We can't keep fighting. Once we've collected the Blood Pills and healed our brothers, we leave at once!"

An Jing watched them intently.

The Northern Patrol Envoy was a major figure within the Tianyi Sect, one of the two Divine Treasury Adepts who had fought in the distance earlier.

Someone of that stature had surely come to Xuanming Manor because of the Ritual Sacrifice.

If An Jing hadn't rebelled, and the Red Armor Guards hadn't shown up, the Northern Patrol Envoy would have taken him, Bai Qinghan, and the other children who'd awakened their Fate Grids to the Tianyi Sect's Main Mountain.

The three were still drawing in blood essence and condensing Blood Pills. As they worked, the youngest disciple sighed. "We may have had bad luck, but those injured brothers really did turn disaster into fortune... Blood Pills! The only time I got one was when Jingtian joined the sect. Once they recover, their cultivation will surely improve by leaps and bounds."

"I wonder when I'll have enough merit to earn a reward."

"You should've had one this time." Instructor Han looked toward Xuanming Valley, his expression gloomy. "I saw two beams of starlight shooting into the sky from the valley. There must have been two Strange Fates born. In the past, that would've earned every martial artist among us a Blood Pill!"

"If one of them had been a Star Constellation Heavenly Official, an All-Evil Divine General, a Mysterious Yin Goddess, or even a Saint Son with the Seven Killings Fate, we wouldn't have just been rewarded with flesh-and-blood medicine... Our entire northwestern district would've risen to the heavens!"

For a moment, they lost themselves in their hopes. But daydreams never lasted. Instructor Han soon lowered his head and waved impatiently. "Get back to work, get back to work... These vats of Fate Bones haven't even dissolved. This conversion's way too slow."

"Right, there are still some little things in the dungeon."

At the thought, Instructor Han glanced toward the dungeon, his eyes gleaming viciously. "They're materials we don't want, but we can't leave them for that dog emperor either... You, keep drawing out the Blood Pills. You, go to the storeroom and take out all the superior Life Artifacts, then destroy the place!"

"If we can't keep them, we can't leave them for that dog emperor!"

"Yes, Captain!"

With that, he rested one hand on his saber's hilt and strode toward the dungeon. His footsteps rang against the ground like metal striking stone.

Clearly, Instructor Han had circulated his Internal Breath to the fullest while fighting the Red Armor Guards. His entire body had become like metal. As he neared the dungeon, his elbow brushed against the railing of a stone balustrade. A chunk of the mountain stone crumbled away as if it were tofu, but Instructor Han didn't even notice.

Bronze skin and iron bones!

An Jing's tightly clenched fists loosened, and his pupils contracted. Instructor Han's hard-body techniques likely came from the Fate Grid he'd awakened. They surpassed what his Internal Breath alone could achieve. In terms of defense, even Manor Master Yao was no match for him!

Could An Jing's Sha Sword pierce his bronze skin and iron bones? Even if it could, how much Internal Breath would it cost? Would he still be able to take on the other two?

Going by Manor Master Yao's showing, bullets probably wouldn't work well against a prepared martial artist. Even if they could kill him, they'd make too much noise and give him away for sure.

But... once An Jing heard them say they were going to "deal with the little things in the dungeon," his heart actually grew calm. Every distracting thought and trace of tension vanished.

So that was it. Was that how it was? They wouldn't even leave the children to chance, to be burned alive?

An Jing wasn't angry. He just found it a little funny. "Looks like I'll have to deal with a few old things myself."

It was time to fight.

He'd just gotten three Qi-Boosting Pills from Manor Master Yao. Without hesitation, An Jing swallowed one. This wasn't the time to hold back. If he needed it, he'd use it!

Instructor Han had chosen to clear out the boys and girls in the dungeon. It was the easiest task, but the two younger disciples took it for granted. They acknowledged him and got to work.

One continued using the Life-Nurturing Vessel to draw out medicinal power; the other headed toward the courtyard on the opposite side.

The three-man group had split into two. There was an opening. An Jing could ambush them.

"That Jade Dagger is a Dharma Artifact, after all. You can use it as a foundation to condense an even sharper Blood Fiend Sword," the Sword Spirit advised.

"Use blood as the source and the blade as the vessel, and you can condense a Blood Fiend Dharma Sword. It's tougher and more powerful than an ordinary Sha Sword."

Fine.

Without a moment's hesitation, An Jing took out the Jade Dagger, cut his palm, and smeared the blade with blood. Using the method the Sword Spirit had taught him, he condensed the Blood Fiend.

Wisps of crimson aura rose from An Jing's blood. From the Jade Dagger's edge, they gathered into a hazy, phantom Blood Fiend Sword.

And that wasn't all. As the Qi-Boosting Pill dissolved in his belly, An Jing felt a scorching blaze ignite inside him.

His surging vigor swelled and spread through his body, sending his blood racing. Red, vein-like patterns appeared across his face, and a wild urge to roar welled up in his chest and belly.

The pill's medicinal power mingled with his primordial energy. Wisps of Internal Breath condensed from his meridians, flesh, and organs, filling An Jing's somewhat depleted sea of qi!

"Hm?!"

The burly Instructor Han had been wondering how to kill the children in the dungeon and refine their lives into more Blood Pill Great Medicine. But then he caught a faint scent of blood, and his eyes flew wide. "Something's wrong!"

Instructor Han started to turn to face the enemy, but the instant he looked back, he caught a faint medicinal scent. Even bronze skin and iron bones couldn't block Pulse-Severing Powder carried through the air. It hadn't even taken effect, but it still made him falter instinctively. "Vice Envoy Yao's medicine?!"

In that instant, a figure radiating waves of heat dropped from above and thrust down with a sword, the blade whistling like an arrow!

The gust of wind swept Instructor Han's hair backward. Before his eyes, a sword's shadow rapidly grew until it filled his entire field of vision, stabbing straight toward his one vulnerable spot: his eye!

Instructor Han hastily raised his hand to shield his face. His body was as tough as bronze and iron; an ordinary weapon could never pierce his hard-trained flesh. At most, it would leave his head spinning.

—He just had to weather this strike, and then he could...

Before he could finish the thought, the silver-glinting crimson Sha Sword pierced his palm, pierced his eye, and drove straight into his brain.

Gurgle. The blade twisted. The figure pulled it free, bringing with it a gush of blood and gray-white brain matter.

"What?"

Only then did the young disciple drawing in blood essence realize something was wrong. He turned around and saw a blood-eyed figure charging at him.

The Demon Disciple instinctively crossed his arms to block, but in the next instant, he stared in disbelief as his arms were severed at the elbows. A boy stood before him, crimson fury flowing in his eyes.

Slash.

Round and round. As he spun, he saw his own neck, his own back, his own legs, then the rocky ground... and darkness.

"Captain, what happened?"

The young Demon Disciple who'd been sent to fetch the "precious Life Artifacts" heard the commotion and had returned. Puzzled, he stepped into the courtyard. He had no time to see what was there before the thick scent of blood hit him.

Then came an explosive boom!

Boom! An Jing planted one foot on the ground and sprang up with a fierce burst of strength, like an eagle pouncing on its prey. Sword in hand, he slammed into the man's chest!

Thud! Boom!

The sound of bodies crashing to the ground rang out. Two figures lay there; only one stood back up.

A massive gash had split open the young disciple's chest and belly. His ribs had all been shattered, and his organs spilled out—blue cartilage, green innards, and red blood spread across the ground. As his eyes rapidly lost their light, he stared at An Jing in utter disbelief, his expression aghast.

Hum.

A sword rang out. The Blood Fiend Sword in An Jing's hand had gone from wisps of aura to something nearly solid, its surface flowing with bloodfire like a river.

In less than ten breaths, after drinking the blood of three men, the Sha Sword glowed crimson, lighting up the entire courtyard.

An Jing's face was shrouded in shadow. He silently watched it all, then slowly exhaled a breath of blood-red air.