Primordial King's Heartblood

The stench of blood was choking.

The second floor of the Myriad Treasures Pavilion was silent as a grave, broken only by Zhang Sanqian's ragged breathing.

High-grade pills had barely stopped the blood flowing from his severed arm, but they could not halt the piercing agony.

Zhang Sanqian's face twisted, his features crushed together, making him look exactly like a vicious ghost that had just crawled out of hell.

He stared fixedly at the white-robed youth.

Malice.

If looks could kill, Ye Xingchen would already have been torn to pieces.

"Damn it... my hand..."

A beast-like growl rolled from Zhang Sanqian's throat as his remaining left hand clawed desperately into the floor.

Ye Xingchen did not look at him.

He did not even spare him a glance from the corner of his eye.

The youth raised his leg and walked toward the vicious stone that had just devoured an arm.

"Crash—"

The watching crowd retreated three zhang in perfect unison as though they had seen a plague god, terrified of being tainted by even a wisp of that red mist.

"What is this madman trying to do now?" someone asked, their scalp going numb. "Does he think his life is too long?"

Thump...

Thump...

The muffled impacts rang out again, every beat landing precisely upon everyone's hearts and making their blood churn.

The worthless stone now shone with blazing red light. Thick crimson mist roiled across its surface, seemingly warning away all who approached.

Ye Xingchen stopped three feet away.

He looked at the surging red mist without the slightest hint of fear. Instead, there was a trace of delight in his eyes.

"Are all the things beneath the First-Origin Mine so ill-tempered?"

He murmured softly.

Yet his voice carried an indifference that seemed to stand above all living beings.

He raised his right hand and slowly extended his index finger.

A wisp of obscure gray airflow silently emerged at his fingertip.

This was no ordinary spiritual power, but a thread of Chaos Origin—colorless and lightless, yet bearing the tyrannical force to devour all heavens.

The beginning of all things, and the end of all things.

The instant his fingertip touched the stone's surface.

The originally violent, bloodthirsty, utterly arrogant red mist suddenly trembled upon touching that speck of gray light.

The next instant.

The mass of red mist shuddered violently.

It was fear.

Absolute suppression from the depths of the soul!

Sizzle, sizzle—

The red mist frantically collapsed inward into the stone, flowing backward as it scrambled to burrow into the cracks, as if something terrifying lurked outside.

Thump.

The final heartbeat came to an abrupt halt.

The baleful aura vanished like smoke.

Only a dark-red stone remained in its place. The savage cracks across its surface actually healed on their own, transforming into intricate, eerie Dao patterns.

The stone skin peeled away.

A fist-sized crystal, crimson as blood throughout, was revealed.

Warm and lustrous.

Clear and translucent.

It seemed as though a river of blood flowed within, radiating intoxicating vitality.

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

A pin drop could be heard.

That Primordial vicious thing which had just been ready to devour people had been... poked into a treasure by this youth's finger?

"Primordial King's Heartblood..."

Master Gu He's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, his beard trembling wildly.

"Th-this is a drop of the Primordial King's Heartblood!"

"Primordial King's Heartblood!? What is so miraculous about it?" a brocade-clad youth asked with an utterly foolish expression.

An elderly man beside him trembled in rage and smacked the back of his head.

"You ignorant brat, that is the Primordial King's Heartblood—a single drop, nothing more!"

"Legend says that a single drop of the Primordial King's Heartblood can devour the flesh and blood of living people, eventually revive, and return to this world!"

"There are also mighty cultivators who can subdue this drop of blood and nurture it into their own second Primordial Spirit. It is equivalent to gaining a second life. But the prerequisite is being able to subdue it. Tell me, who could suppress the Primordial King unless they possessed bloodline suppression?"

"..."

Boom!

The crowd exploded into uproar.

Bloodline suppression!

"Could his bloodline be nobler than that of the Primordial Royal Clan?"

"No, impossible! That was the Primordial King. Even in the primordial era, he was an existence who reigned supreme; none but a Great Sage could oppose him!"

"How could this kid possibly possess a bloodline capable of suppressing the Primordial King?"

"Could he be descended from some Great Emperor?"

"..."

The crowd murmured endlessly, and the way they looked at Ye Xingchen changed completely.

Awe, fear!

And among them were those whose eyes nearly overflowed with greed!

"Fake! It is all fake!"

A shrill roar tore through the heated atmosphere.

Zhang Sanqian's eyes were bloodshot, and the last thread of his reason snapped.

The hatred of losing his arm, the resentment of having a treasure snatched away.

The enormous disparity drove him utterly mad.

"That is mine! You little bastard, leave your life behind!"

Boom!

Zhang Sanqian suddenly struck out with his left hand. Burning his blood essence, he unleashed every last bit of Foundation Establishment Peak spiritual power.

A vicious spiritual-power blood claw formed out of thin air, carrying a nauseating bloody stench as it lunged straight at Ye Xingchen's back.

The distance was too close.

The killing intent was too fierce.

"Watch out!" Zuo Xiaoqing cried out, her face turning pale.

With his back to Zhang Sanqian, Ye Xingchen was playing with the Primordial Blood Jade in his hand.

He did not move.

A cold sneer even curled at the corner of his lips.

At his fingertips, a gray gleam capable of piercing through a Foundation Establishment cultivator's skull had already formed.

Courting death.

Since you wanted to die, he would grant your wish.

"Impudent."

Those two icy words descended like heavenly law.

The air across the entire second floor instantly froze solid.

A terrifying Late Golden Core pressure crashed down like a primordial divine mountain.

Crack!

That seemingly ferocious spiritual-power blood claw instantly shattered, becoming specks of light that filled the air.

The pressure did not diminish. It slammed heavily onto Zhang Sanqian.

"Pfft—"

Zhang Sanqian spat out a mouthful of old blood three feet high.

His kneecaps let out a teeth-grinding crack as the immense force forcibly pressed him to his knees, spiderwebbing the floor beneath him.

Her red dress swayed.

A cold fragrance drifted through the air.

Nangong Yan walked over step by step.

Those eyes that usually brimmed with seductive charm were now cold enough to crumble frost. From on high, she looked down upon Zhang Sanqian as if he were a dead dog.

"Master Zhang."

"Did you take the Myriad Treasures Pavilion's rules for a fart?"

Her voice was gentle, yet it made everyone's scalps tingle.

"Pavilion Master... it was him... he harmed me..."

Zhang Sanqian's mouth was full of blood, his hair disheveled, yet he still roared unwillingly as he trembled and pointed at Ye Xingchen.

"Harmed you?"

Nangong Yan sneered, her red lips parting. "In stone gambling, one bears life and death oneself. You were inferior in skill and tried to forcefully break the stone, suffering backlash as a result. What does that have to do with anyone else?"

Her beautiful eyes shifted, falling upon Ye Xingchen's upright back. A trace of imperceptible approval flashed through their depths.

In that instant just now, she had clearly sensed the killing intent on this youth.

For a Qi Refinement cultivator to condense such formidable killing intent, unless he had hidden his cultivation!

"If this young friend Ye had not stepped in to suppress the vicious stone, did you think you would still have your worthless life?"

Nangong Yan's voice abruptly turned frigid. "If you dare make another move within the pavilion, do not blame me for disregarding old ties and throwing you out of the Myriad Treasures Pavilion."

"Scram."

Nangong Yan spoke a single word from her red lips.

Zhang Sanqian trembled all over, his fingernails digging into the cracks in the floor until blood streamed down.

He knew that he was bound to suffer this loss today. Even the Myriad Treasures Pavilion was taking that brat's side!

He struggled to his feet and shot Ye Xingchen a venomous glare.

That look was crystal clear: once you step outside that door, it will be your day of death.

Afterward, he retreated miserably into a corner and swallowed pills to treat his injuries, yet he did not leave.

He wanted to watch.

Watch how this brat died!

Only then did Ye Xingchen slowly turn around, the cold gleam at his fingertips silently dissipating.

He tossed the Blood Jade in his hand, then flashed Nangong Yan a grin. "Thanks, Sister Nangong. The security work of this Myriad Treasures Pavilion is indeed quite thorough."

"Sister?"

Nangong Yan's originally taut beautiful face instantly cracked.

"You certainly know how to talk!"

She shot him an annoyed glance. That single glance was so enchanting that the bones of quite a few cultivators nearby went soft.

"But once you leave this door, Sister will not be able to protect you."