Three Steps, Three Kills

That vessel was none other than the [Life-Nurturing Vessel], the life-bound artifact Manor Master Yao had placed on his own table!

And what these Demonic Cult members were doing right now was quite simple.

Regardless of whether these [Great Medicines] had finished brewing, they had to recover the Blood Pills as quickly as possible under the assault of the Red Armor Guards to minimize their losses.

Calm.

An Jing activated the Qingjing Sword Temple technique, took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down: These few... their strength is not low!

He could not use his gun, as the commotion would be too great. Furthermore, if he could not resolve the battle with the utmost speed, he would attract other members of the Demonic Cult, making it impossible to rescue the other children in the dungeon.

There were three cultists. An Jing recognized one of them: Instructor Han, who taught martial arts. His strength was second only to the head instructor, Instructor Li. The other two were new faces, or perhaps they had simply never met the children before.

An Jing frowned slightly. Instructor Han's strength was not to be underestimated; he was at the peak of the Internal Breath like a River stage, already a cut above him. Moreover, he practiced hard-body martial arts, possessing a sturdy physique with skin that had a matte, brass-like sheen, looking incredibly tough.

The other two had weaker auras, but one was at the Internal Breath like a River stage, and the other at the Internal Breath like a Thread stage; both were martial artists.

If he were alone, he could easily kill one by surprise, but with two, it was nearly impossible to prevent them from sending out a warning signal. As for three, it was absolutely impossible.

The living are ultimately more important than the dead... My goal is to rescue the children locked in the dungeon. These instructors... forget it.

At this moment, An Jing forced himself to remain calm.

His feelings toward the Demonic Cult were complex, and his feelings toward these instructors, with whom he had spent so much time, were even more complicated.

If these instructors took the Blood Pill Great Medicines and left, he would simply take the children and go. They would part ways here, and it would be best if they never met again.

But if...

An Jing looked grave, and the cultists were equally solemn.

"Damn it, why is the speed so slow?" Instructor Han's face was still stained with blood. He frowned deeply, his mouth spewing profanities: "This is life-saving medicine! Every second slower means a brother dies sooner!"

"Doesn't this Life-Nurturing Vessel usually condense blood qi quite quickly? Why is it moving at this goddamn speed now?"

"Sir, a life-bound artifact can only be properly controlled by someone with a corresponding Fate Grid." The younger one explained in a voice: "The only person in the manor with the Borrowing Qi to Return Soul Fate Grid is the Manor Master himself. If we want to use it, we can only take it slow..."

"Damn it!" Instructor Han spat on the ground, looked toward the west, and said hatefully: "Damn the Red Armor Guards! Damn the traitors!"

"Even the Northern Patrol Envoy has been intercepted. We can't keep fighting. Once we finish collecting the Blood Pills and heal our brothers, we leave immediately!"

An Jing focused his attention on observing this scene.

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

The reason such a high-level figure had come to Xuanming Manor was undoubtedly because of the ritual.

If he had not rebelled and the Red Armor Guards had not arrived, it would likely have been the Northern Patrol Envoy taking him, Bai Qinghan, and the other children who had awakened their Fate Grids to the main mountain of the Tianyi Sect.

The three were still absorbing blood qi and condensing the Blood Pills. In the process, the youngest cultist with the lowest strength remarked: "Although our luck is bad, those injured brothers are truly getting a blessing in disguise... Blood Pills, I only received one when I first joined the sect during the Jingtian ceremony. Once they recover, they will surely all see their cultivation advance greatly."

"I wonder when I will have enough merit to receive such a reward."

"There should have been one." Instructor Han looked toward the direction of Xuanming Valley and said gloomily: "I saw two pillars of starlight shooting into the sky from the valley earlier—there must have been two rare fates born. In the past, every one of us martial artists would have been rewarded with 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 Child with the Seven Killings fate, it wouldn't just be a reward of flesh and blood medicine... our entire Northwest Diocese would have ascended to heaven!"

They were lost in fantasy for a moment, but the time for daydreaming passed quickly. Instructor Han soon lowered his head and waved his hand impatiently: "Get to work, get to work... These vats of life-bones haven't been dissolved yet; the conversion efficiency is too slow."

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

Thinking of this, Instructor Han looked toward the dungeon, his eyes flashing with a fierce light: "Although they are just materials we don't need, we can't leave them for the dog emperor... You, keep absorbing the Blood Pills. You, go into the storage room, take out all the high-grade Dharma Artifacts, and then destroy the room!"

"What we can't keep, we cannot leave for the dog emperor!"

"Yes, Captain!"

After speaking, he pressed one hand to the hilt of his blade and strode toward the dungeon. His footsteps hitting the ground actually emitted the sound of metal clashing against stone.

Clearly, Instructor Han had been operating his internal breath at full capacity while fighting the Red Armor Guards, his entire body already like metal. As he approached the dungeon, his elbow inadvertently brushed against the stone railing, and the pillar, built from mountain bluestone, was crushed away as if it were tofu, yet Instructor Han did not even notice.

Copper skin and iron bones!

An Jing, who had been clenching his fists, felt his pupils shrink. Instructor Han's hard-body ability likely stemmed from his awakened 'Fate Grid'. This had already surpassed his Internal Breath realm; in terms of defensive power, even Manor Master Yao was no match for him!

Could his Sha Sword pierce his copper skin and iron bones? Even if it could, how much internal breath would it consume, and could he deal with all three?

Judging by Manor Master Yao's performance, bullets were likely ineffective against prepared martial artists. Even if he could kill them, the commotion would be too great and he would definitely be discovered.

However... after hearing that the opponent intended to 'dispose of the little things in the dungeon,' An Jing's heart actually calmed down. All distracting thoughts and tension vanished.

So that's how it is, is it? So they won't even give them the chance to be burned to death or leave it to fate?

An Jing was not angry. He just found it a bit amusing: "It seems I also have to dispose of some old things."

It was time to fight.

Having just received three Qi-Boosting Pills from Manor Master Yao, An Jing did not hesitate and swallowed one immediately. He could not be stingy now; if he had to use them, he would!

Instructor Han chose to go and clear out the young boys and girls in the dungeon; this was the easiest task. The two young cultists felt it was only natural and, after acknowledging the order, went about their respective tasks.

One continued to control the Life-Nurturing Vessel to absorb the medicinal power, while the other walked toward the courtyard on the other side.

The three-man group was now down to two, creating an opening. He could launch a sneak attack.

"That jade dagger is a Dharma Artifact after all. It can serve as a foundation to condense a sharper blood qi Sha Sword."

The Sword Spirit prompted: "Using blood as the source and the blade as the medium, you can condense a 'Blood Fiend Dharma Sword', which is tougher and more powerful than an ordinary Sha Sword."

Fine.

An Jing did not hesitate in the slightest; he immediately drew his jade dagger, sliced his palm, and smeared the blood onto the blade, condensing the Blood Fiend using the method taught by the Sword Spirit.

Wisps of scarlet aura rose from An Jing's blood, originating from the edge of the jade dagger to coalesce into an illusory, hazy Blood Fiend Sword.

That was not all. As the Qi-Boosting Pill dissolved in his stomach, An Jing felt a scorching flame ignite within his body.

The raging essence energy expanded, spreading throughout An Jing's body and causing his blood and qi to boil. Red vascular patterns surfaced on his face, and an urge to roar aloud surged from his chest and abdomen.

The medicinal power mixed with primordial energy, and strands of Internal Breath condensed from his meridians, flesh, and internal organs, filling An Jing's previously depleted sea of qi!

"Hm?!"

The burly Instructor Han had been contemplating how to kill the children in the dungeon to refine their lives into more Blood Pill Great Medicine, but suddenly, he caught a faint scent of blood and his eyes widened: "Something is wrong!"

Instructor Han intended to turn and face the enemy, but the moment he turned his head, he smelled faint traces of medicinal fragrance—even his copper skin and iron bones could not block the Pulse-Severing Powder drifting through the air. Even though it had no effect, it caused him to instinctively hesitate: "Vice Envoy Yao's medicine?!"

In that very instant, a figure radiating rolling heat descended from the sky, thrusting a sword downward with a whistling sound like a gale!

The strong wind blew Instructor Han's hair back. Before his eyes, a sword shadow expanded rapidly until it occupied his entire field of vision, stabbing straight at his only weak point: his eyeball!

Instructor Han hurriedly raised his hand to block his face. He possessed copper skin and iron bones; ordinary weapons could never pierce his hard-body cultivation, at most leaving him dizzy and dazed.

Survive this strike, and there is still a chance...

Before he could finish the thought, the silver-glinting Blood Fiend Sword pierced through his palm, punctured his eyeball, and drove straight into his brain.

Gurgle. The blade twisted, and the figure pulled the sword out, bringing with it dripping blood and grayish-white brain matter.

"What?"

At this moment, the young cultist who had been absorbing blood energy finally sensed that something was wrong. He turned his head, only to see a figure with blood-red eyes charging toward him.

The cultist instinctively crossed his arms to block, but the next instant, he was stunned to find his arms severed at the elbows. A youth stood before him, holding a sword, his eyes flowing with a scarlet, ferocious light.

Slash.

Spinning, spinning. In the midst of the rotation, he saw his own neck, his own back, his own legs, and then the rocky ground... followed by darkness.

"Captain, what happened?"

The young cultist who had been ordered to retrieve the 'precious life-vessel' heard the commotion and had just returned. He stepped into the courtyard in confusion, but before he could see anything, he was hit by the pungent scent of blood.

He heard a loud explosion!

Thud! An Jing stomped on the ground, exerting force to leap up like a hawk pouncing on its prey, crashing into the cultist's chest with his sword!

Pfft! Thud!

The sound of a collision and a fall rang out. Two figures hit the ground, but only one stood back up.

The young cultist's chest and abdomen had been sliced open by a massive wound. His ribs were shattered, his internal organs spilled out, and blue rib cartilage, green viscera, and red blood covered the ground. His eyes, rapidly losing their vitality, stared at An Jing with an expression of utter disbelief and terror.

Hum.

With a sword chime, the Blood Fiend Sword in An Jing's hand, which had started as mere wisps, had become nearly solid, flowing with blood-red flames like a river.

In less than ten breaths, the Sha Sword, having drunk the blood of three men, radiated a scarlet light that illuminated the entire courtyard.

An Jing, his face shrouded in shadow, watched all of this in silence and slowly exhaled a breath of blood-colored mist.