After learning that this incident would not have a major impact on the Yan family, Wei Zhong headed back toward his own small courtyard.
Passing by the various Spirit Fields, he found that last night's Robber Cultivator activity had ravaged quite a bit of Spirit Rice. Here a patch, there a plot—the Spirit Fields had been damaged, and the Spirit Rice within looked unlikely to survive.
The unlucky ones had even had their entire Spirit Fields caught up in the fighting. A layer of earth had been scraped away. Spirit Rice could be replanted once it was gone, but a half-ruined Spirit Field would cost quite a few spirit stones to restore.
To his delight, there seemed to be no traces of combat around his own Spirit Field. The fields belonging to the several nearby households, including Wei Zhong's, were all completely intact.
When he reached the outside of his courtyard, he circled it twice without finding anything unusual. Still, to be safe, Wei Zhong cast the Invisibility Art, concealed his aura, and climbed over the wall into the courtyard.
Nine Colors in the cage remained as blankly dazed as when he had left, except its gaze was fixed toward his room.
Wei Zhong secretly raised his guard.
He clenched a black pellet in his hand, his Flying Throwing Art poised to strike.
He entered the house and checked both the kitchen and bedroom, finding nothing, until he reached his cultivation room.
A heavily wounded male cultivator lay unconscious inside.
Wei Zhong stood behind the door, peering through the crack.
This man possessed an impressive method of concealing his aura. Even Wei Zhong's spiritual sense search had failed to detect him.
It seemed that Wei Zhong had triggered some kind of warning measure, for the heavily wounded cultivator soon woke up.
"Fellow Daoist behind the door, please come in so we may speak. I am Gongyang Zi. I borrowed your place to recuperate for a while and have caused much disturbance. Please forgive me."
Naturally, Wei Zhong would not rashly walk inside. He pushed open the door and stood beyond the threshold.
"Fellow Daoist, it seems your injuries are quite severe?"
Wei Zhong could see clearly that this man's chest and abdomen seemed to have been pierced through by some unknown weapon. A wide expanse of exposed blood had dyed his robes red.
"Hehe, indeed. That is why I need Fellow Daoist to permit me to recuperate here for a few days. A few spirit stones, to express my gratitude."
As he spoke, he flicked his hand, sending ten spirit stones flying to land before Wei Zhong.
"Fellow Daoist is too courteous."
Wei Zhong collected them from a distance, yet did not step through the doorway.
Suddenly, alarm flashed through his heart. He hurled the black pellet in his hand above his head. The pellet seemed to have plunged into a swamp, blocked by some sticky object.
The vigilance in Wei Zhong's heart did not fade. He threw out a second pellet. This time, it met little resistance and struck the source of that deadly threat.
At once, a white insect shadow fell from above—the very thing hit by his Flying Throwing Art.
Its white body had been smashed beyond recognition by the pellet, but Wei Zhong could still barely make out that it was a milky-white spider.
"A first order spirit insect?"
Seeing his methods shattered by Wei Zhong in the blink of an eye, Gongyang Zi finally panicked.
He activated a green round shield before himself and hurriedly said,
"Fellow Daoist, wait! This is all a misunderstanding."
Wei Zhong ignored him. A spell formed in his hand, and an extremely condensed Fireball Art erupted instantly, slamming into the green round shield.
He had no idea what material the shield was made from. The Fireball Art only made it tremble slightly before vanishing without a trace.
Gongyang Zi let out a breath of relief.
"Fellow Daoist, please stop. That was the Spirit Insect's instinctive act of protecting its master, not an attempt by me to harm you. If Fellow Daoist is dissatisfied, I have a heaven-shaking opportunity that I can share with you. Please forgive my offense."
Wei Zhong was not moved in the slightest. He took out two black pellets and continued using the Flying Throwing Art.
Seeing that this was the art that had killed his Spirit Insect, Gongyang Zi did not dare to be careless. He forcefully activated the round shield in his hand. As spiritual power poured into it, a layer of green radiance even emerged around the shield, raising its defensive power another level.
His heart settled somewhat.
Damn it. If that person had not destroyed all my methods and gravely wounded me, how could I have fallen into such an awkward plight, humiliated by a mere spirit farmer?
"Thud!"
The Flying Throwing Art's attack arrived in an instant. The green radiance was scattered with a single blow, and a circular mark was even left on the round shield.
"What?"
Terror rose in Gongyang Zi's heart. Before he could activate his magic artifact again, the second black pellet had already arrived.
Following the previous trajectory, it pierced through the small green shield. Its remaining force unabated, it slammed into Gongyang Zi's Daoist robe.
The damaged robe lacked the power to stop the pellet, and Gongyang Zi took another blow to the chest.
"Pfft!"
Gongyang Zi spat out a mouthful of blood. He could no longer suppress his injuries.
"You little thief..."
How could Wei Zhong have time to waste words on this thief? His fingers flicked repeatedly, sending out fragments of magic artifacts. Though they were not as effective as the black pellets, they contained traces of spirit iron and were far more powerful than ordinary stones.
Faced with Wei Zhong's assault, Gongyang Zi seemed to have accepted his fate and offered no resistance whatsoever.
His severely wounded body soon ceased moving beneath Wei Zhong's attacks.
"That easily? He was far too fragile."
Apart from that spider and the round shield, this man's combat ability seemed rather ordinary.
On second thought, enduring so many blows from the Flying Throwing Art with a gravely wounded body was already no small feat.
Wei Zhong did not approach. He gathered a fireball in his hand, about to burn the man's remains to ashes.
Perhaps Wei Zhong had been overly cautious, for a sigh suddenly rang out.
Wei Zhong's hairs stood on end. A translucent little arrow flew out from Gongyang Zi's remains and shot toward him.
So fast!
Wei Zhong only had time to cast the Golden Body Art, and his body's surface immediately became as though forged from gold.
Yet the proficient Golden Body Art did not hinder the little arrow in the slightest. As if passing through solid matter, it sped toward Wei Zhong's head.
Wei Zhong's body stiffened. A transparent phantom emerged from Gongyang Zi's remains. The phantom was unstable, so frail that even a faint breeze seemed capable of blowing it away.
Without the slightest hesitation, Gongyang Zi's phantom plunged into Wei Zhong's body.
Wei Zhong only felt his entire body turn cold as the little arrow drilled into him. He froze on the spot, followed immediately by an even colder aura burrowing into his body.
Then came an "Ah," and all sound ceased at once.
Recovering from the chill, Wei Zhong touched his head, somewhat unable to make sense of the situation.
That just now... was possession?
Gongyang Zi wanted to possess my body? But he failed, even though I had not had time to resist. Could it be that I possess some secret treasure without knowing it?
Wei Zhong anxiously searched all over his body, yet discovered nothing at all.
Ah, it seems my realm is still too low. There must have been a reason why I transmigrated here. It would be reasonable for me to carry some secret treasure. I'll examine it again once my cultivation rises.
Steadying his emotions, he raised a hand and burned Gongyang Zi's remains to ash with a single fireball. Only a Storage Bag, a damaged small shield, and some blood remained.
Wei Zhong was somewhat startled.
"This blood..."
Flames emerged from his hand again, continuously scorching it. Yet the blood continued to writhe beneath the fire.
But it was ultimately water without a source, and before long, it was burned away completely.
The person Gongyang Zi had provoked was no simple figure. And that opportunity—perhaps it was precisely the reason for his grave injuries.
Wei Zhong picked up the Storage Bag, erased the mark on it, and rummaged through it. He took out a Jade Slip and a blood-colored little sword the length of a finger.
"Blood Sea True Lord's Inheritance Key?"
Before you continue