Soul Search

"Chi, chichi..."

As the final chain snapped shut, Meng'er Jinye's voice was cut off at the waist. His entire body collapsed inward like a leather waterskin crushed in a fist.

When he hit the ground, he burned into a pile of ash.

At last, the Frost Kingdom's treasury fell completely silent.

The orange-red fire chains went out one after another, fading away.

All that remained on the ground were scorched silhouettes lying every which way, some still smoking...

Diwu Chijin lowered his hands, his ten fingers loosening as a ball of blood condensed in his palm.

With his eyes closed, his chest rose and fell faintly. He slowly exhaled, then drew the blood ball—and the stench of charred flesh and blood in the air—into his body.

"Bzzz~~"

The essence-blood energy flowed down through his nose and mouth, passed through his throat and chest, and finally poured into his dantian.

He could feel a faint current of warmth slowly flowing along his meridians.

Unconsciously, he licked the roof of his mouth with his tongue. A trace of blood's fishy sweetness still lingered at the roots of his teeth.

But that flavor quickly faded and dispersed.

It was like holding a tiny grain of sugar in his mouth—it melted away before he could even taste its sweetness...

A moment later, Diwu Chijin frowned slightly, opened his eyes, and swept a glance over the charred corpses covering the ground. With deep disdain, he said, "Tch. The 'filthy, diseased bodies' of mortals who consume the five grains and sundry foods—even the most refined portion of their essence blood—are of extremely limited use in raising my cultivation."

He habitually pinched the bridge of his nose. "With my current Foundation Establishment Early Stage cultivation, if I rely solely on drinking this stuff, what year of the