Inkstone Mountain Retreated, the Ore Vein Was Claimed!

"You...!"

Seeing Qingyang Rong act with such explosive force, Yan Muya, the Inkstone Mountain Tribe's grand elder, spat out another mouthful of blood.

Watching the grand elder's imposing might, Qingyang Huan's eyes gleamed like those of a young wolf. This was the might a wolf should possess: striking without the slightest hesitation, his momentum arcing like a rainbow, his power bearing down in every direction.

"Qingyang, you old turtle, you've advanced to the spirit seizing realm!"

"That's right!"

Qingyang Rong nodded, a trace of pride in his eyes. He and Yan Muya had contended for over a century, and now he had finally surpassed his opponent. The spirit seizing realm was a realm different from the divine repository: soul power began extending outward, taking control of the surrounding environment.

"Enough nonsense, old ghost Yan. Take your clan's little brats back where you came from. Seeing as you helped us Qingyang dig out this ore vein for several months, I won't pursue the matter of your trespassing on our territory this time!"

At that moment, anger filled the eyes of every Yanshan Clan warrior. Even Yan Muya burned with fury, his beard and hair flying wildly. What Qingyang territory?

He was not the least bit surprised by Qingyang Rong's actions, because had their positions been reversed, he might have been even more overbearing. Unfortunately, this old bastard had actually advanced to the spirit seizing realm, opening a gap between them in one stroke.

Yet he himself still had not the slightest clue about the spirit seizing realm. At the thought, Yan Muya's expression darkened further.

"Elder!"

Seeing Yan Muya remain silent, the warriors beside him roared one after another, their gazes fierce, wishing they could kill the two Qingyang men with their eyes.

But Yan Muya waved a hand to stop the enraged warriors. He did not want the remaining warriors lying on the ground as well. Having contended with his old rival for a hundred years, he understood him very well. This old bastard would do exactly what he said.

"Leave!"

Forcing down a deep breath, Yan Muya stared hard at Qingyang Rong, gritted his teeth, and barked the order.

What!

"Grand elder, this is the ore vein we Inkstone Mountain people excavated! We worked ourselves to the bone digging for several months. Are we just going to hand it over to the Qingyang Clan?"

"Take the wounded clansmen and return to the tribe!" Yan Muya barked again, without the slightest hesitation.

Since that old bastard Qingyang had advanced to the spirit seizing realm, nothing could be done. Withdrawing early was the right course. The clansmen lying on the ground, their breaths as thin as threads, were living examples. Today's humiliation would be repaid another day.

"Grand elder, would Qingyang really dare kill us? This is Inkstone Mountain's ore vein! We can't let it go. We'll hold him off while you hurry back and inform the chief!"

Some Yanshan Clan warriors still refused to give up, but Yan Muya waved his hand and said gravely, "I'm afraid the clan chief won't be able to come!"

Compared with these warriors, as Inkstone Mountain's grand elder, he understood the terror of the spirit seizing realm far better. If all of them were severely injured in this wild forest today, even returning to the tribe would be troublesome. Adding the recuperation needed to heal their wounds, the price would be even greater!

At that moment, outside the tribal hall of the Inkstone Mountain Tribe.

A bonfire had been built, and several large blue-green fish, each several feet long, roasted above the flames, sending out wafts of fragrance.

A burly, rugged man reached out with his large hand and took a blue-green fish straight off the bonfire. Ignoring the scorching heat, he brought it to his mouth and chewed in great mouthfuls. In just a few breaths, all that remained of the two-foot-long fish was its skeleton, which he casually tossed into the flames.

Who else could this burly man be but Qingyang Huan's father?

After finishing one fish, Qingyang Jue grabbed another off the bonfire. Eating as he spoke, he called out indistinctly, "I say, old Yan, it's been ages since us brothers got together, and you're only treating me to a few lousy fish? That's hardly decent of you!"

Opposite Qingyang Jue, a middle-aged man wearing a purple beast-hide robe sat cross-legged beside the fire. His eyelids lifted slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched as he said, "Those lousy fish are divine treasure realm Jade Qilin Python Fish."

"Wait!"

Just as the Inkstone Mountain Tribe warriors finally hoisted their wounded clansmen off the ground onto their backs and prepared to leave the ore vein, Qingyang Rong spoke again.

"Old ghost Qingyang, what further advice do you have?" the Inkstone Mountain grand elder immediately roared.

"The old rules," Qingyang Rong said mildly.

"Old ghost Qingyang, do you truly want the fish to die and the net to break?" Yan Muya's expression grew increasingly icy.

"The fish to die and the net to break?" Qingyang Rong stepped forward, coming straight up to Yan Muya. "Do you have what it takes for that now?"

"Leave all the weapons and armor. We're going!"

At last, Yan Muya's furious roar subsided, and he shouted to the Qingyang Tribe warriors.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The Yanshan Clan warriors then threw their weapons and armor onto the ground and hurried away after Yan Muya with their wounded clansmen. Though Qingyang Rong had struck hard, he had not taken the life of a single Yanshan Clan warrior.

Qingyang Huan gathered up the weapons and armor the Yanshan Clan warriors had left behind, but a wry smile appeared on his face. Some of the bronze spears among them bore cloud patterns belonging to Qingyang. Clearly, the grand elder's actions were not setting a precedent; this had happened before.

At that moment, he also understood what the grand elder had meant by the old rules!

Clearly, seizing each other's weapons and armor during conflicts between the two tribes was nothing new. It all depended on whose fists were harder!

This incident also made him understand what it truly meant for the strong to reign supreme.

"Grand elder, making the Inkstone Mountain Tribe warriors leave all their weapons and armor behind, won't that..."

Qingyang Huan suddenly spoke. Although the grand elder had not killed anyone this time, there had been dozens of severely wounded Yanshan Clan warriors lying on the ground.

"We Qingyang and Inkstone Mountain have been neighbors for two thousand years. Our conflicts are too numerous to count, but they very rarely reach the point where neither side will rest until the other is dead. Inkstone Mountain lost face this time, so they'll certainly look for a chance to win it back. Don't worry about it."

The grand elder spoke to him.

"Boy, remember this: small disputes are fine. Even the clansmen of our own Qingyang Clan have conflicts, let alone two great tribes. But a major conflict is absolutely out of the question. I understand this, Qingyang understands it, and the Inkstone Mountain Tribe understands it too. You must remember it."

Qingyang Huan nodded in partial understanding and asked, "Is it because of the other races?"

"When you enter the Ancient City of La Mountain in the future and see more of the world, you'll understand how turbulent the world beyond our Human Race is. Qingyang amounts to little. Our struggles with Inkstone Mountain are nothing more than each of us wanting our own tribe to survive better!"

A trace of reminiscence entered the grand elder's eyes. Qingyang Huan knew that in his youth, the grand elder had traveled through the Ancient Land of La Mountain, crossing hundreds of thousands of miles of the Great Wilderness. Towering mountains, ancient cities weathered by time-he had seen an extraordinary amount.

Not only the grand elder, but his father had ventured out as well. So he, too, wanted to go out and see. Throughout the Great Wilderness, everyone said that survival was difficult for the Human Race, which fought bitterly against many great races generation after generation.

"Come, let's move our red copper ore back to the tribe. In three months, Inkstone Mountain has pretty much dug this vein clean."

Inside the cave, the grand elder carefully pulled a grass cord woven from fierce beast fur off his wrist. Tied to the cord was a finger-sized beast bone, so densely covered in patterns that a single glance made the eyes swim.

This was their means of carrying away all this red copper ore: a beast bone imprinted with a spatial bone rune.