A Sixty-Year Treasure Talisman, a Foe Who Deserved Death; Heaven-in-a-Pot's Marvelous Uses, Further Progress in the Sword Manual (Revised)

Above the Flame Ridge Mountains, cries of "Aaaah-!" rang out without end.

They seethed with extreme fury.

They poured continuously from the throat of the gray-robed False Core elder, as though he were venting everything he had ceased to suppress. At first hearing, they also resembled the whimpers of a wounded beast licking its injuries.

This veteran False Core True Person, who had arrived calm and composed, certain he held every winning card and intent on stealing the prize, now had his hair hanging loose,

blood smeared everywhere, and his face twisted. The pale gloom of his injuries mingled with the unnatural flush of his rage.

The two colors intertwined, leaving him utterly bedraggled. Clearly, he had suffered a tremendous loss in the battle just now!

Had he been out in the wider world with his cultivation concealed, any sharp-tongued passerby who saw him would likely have cursed him as an "old lunatic."

"Just pray I never find you!"

His teeth-grinding voice continued in a low growl. This time, he truly had lost both the bride and his soldiers.

He had obtained neither the Earthfire Nether Serpent's horn nor its demon core.

He had also lost an entire arm, severed at the shoulder, dealing heavy blows to his strength, lifespan, and appearance alike.

Worse still, he had no idea what method that thief had used to steal the Soul-Striking Whip treasure artifact he had gone to such lengths to seize!

It was simply a tale from the Arabian Nights, utterly inconceivable! He had spent considerable time refining this treasure artifact. Although he had seized it from someone else, he still shared a close connection with it. Yet now, everything seemed to have been forcibly severed. He could no longer sense the Soul-Striking Whip's location.

And yet, he had not felt