Far out in Eastern Secret, a low mountain stood beside the Wilderness of Witches, its rocks jagged and its woods dense, well beyond the heavenly rings where golden lightning gathered.
The stream trembled. On Cross-Dike Mountain, a hazy streak of bloodlight stood beside the water, and Du Yu stepped out of it.
He was tall and powerfully built, his features steeped in baleful menace. Concealing every trace of his aura, he lightly plucked out an eye with distinct black and white, tossed it skyward, and hid it among the clouds to watch Eastern Secret from afar.
"Feng Qiong He."
Du Yu murmured the name. The man cultivated an ancient blood qi art and carried Fu Yi's bloodline. He would be no easy opponent.
"Liang Yong has a grudge against me. Keeping watch here really is torture."
At the thought of that brute, an unaccountable fury rose within him. All he had done was kill the man's lover, yet Liang Yong had refused to let it go, hounding him relentlessly for years.
"And the head of this sect-what was his name again? Xu Xuan?"
Du Yu recalled the Wilderness of Witches' earlier attack on the mountain. Rumors abounded that this abbot actually cultivated altar thunder, which was how he had struck Qiong He down in an instant.
Sword qi combined with thunder arts filled Du Yu with dread. Blood qi feared altar thunder, divine thunder, and thunder-shock lightning most of all. If the man had mastered even a little altar thunder magic, a blood qi demonic cultivator like him would be no match.
"An orthodox demonic cultivator from the Ancient Era might be able to withstand it somewhat."
Du Yu sighed softly. Even the demonic path had its hierarchy. Blood qi cultivators like them occupied the lowest rung. Their only advantages