Forcing You to Reveal Yourself

“The sect bestowed him with elixirs to suppress his illness and even promised his family a lifetime of wealth and protection for three generations.”

Wan Renmian was about to retort, but the words stuck in his throat. Cold sweat trickled down the corner of his eye, seeping in to sting his nerves, yet he seemed oblivious.

“As long as you put down the Blood Pill now and turn around to leave, I, Yu Ce, guarantee your life will be spared!”

Yu Ce, seeing Wan Renmian’s face grow increasingly sullen, spoke as if tossing a piece of rotten meat to a broken-backed dog lurking in a shadowed alley.

“Hahaha! You endured beneath me for over a decade, deceiving me for so long! Why should I trust you?”

“If you don’t, you’re certain to die today! There is no other choice!”

Wan Renmian glanced at the right, where a clump of shrubs had been sliced clean by wind blades, and thought to himself, “That may not be so!”

“Qin Chuan, today the two of us must join forces, or we’ll both die!”

“Don’t listen to his nonsense. I have no grudge against you, young friend, and I am not a wanton killer,” Yu Ce called out.

They shouted loudly, but the surroundings were empty, with not a single reply.

At that moment, Qin Chuan was hiding within the thicket, keeping out of sight, carefully channeling spiritual energy into his Dust Pill to conceal his presence as much as possible. Hearing their voices, he felt nothing. Only when he thought of the method of Seizing Foundation and Nourishing Breath stored in his pouch did his heart stir with a hint of excitement.

As for Shi Xin, he was not quite dead, but he couldn’t be stowed away in the pouch, which was a pity.

Yu Ce and Wan Renmian spoke without any attempt to conceal their conversation, and Qin Chuan caught every nuance and secret. He could not help but marvel at the scale of Tianxin Sect’s scheme—for the sake of a single Blood Pill, they plotted for decades and even slaughtered tens of thousands to nourish the pill!

Suddenly, a thought struck him—Shenyuan City within the Green Mountain Sect also held a vast number of mortals, far more than tens of thousands.

“There are countless kinds of Blood Pills, with myriad strange uses. Most are for increasing cultivation, but who knows what this one is for?”

“If it’s truly as they said, a tool for breaking through to the innate stage… tsk, tsk…”

He could not help but sigh in awe.

However, Qin Chuan had little desire for the Blood Pill, regardless of whether Wan Renmian’s claim—that only practitioners of the Tianxin technique could truly benefit from it—was true.

“Neither of these two is to be fully trusted. Yu Ce is profoundly cunning. If I hadn’t accidentally used the Fire Severing Art that day, dodged by him, I wouldn’t have noticed him at all.”

“He, too, possesses a method to conceal his aura, ensuring not a trace of his cultivation leaks.”

The two men shouted for some time, but there was not the slightest stir in the woods. The sound echoed into the forest, but there was no reply, no resonance—as if indeed no one was hiding among the trees.

“Very well! You leave me no choice!”

In the moonlight, Wan Renmian’s face was ashen. With a slap to his storage pouch, he drew out a talisman. Without pause, he infused it with spiritual energy and threw it at the densest part of the thicket.

Yu Ce’s eyes flickered. “A Firelight Talisman?”

His expression changed slightly. He formed a quick seal, and a pale blue wind blade appeared beside him, slicing the Firelight Talisman cleanly in two.

“Firelight Talisman?” Qin Chuan’s mind raced as he heard this.

After a moment’s thought, terror gripped his heart. This was an attempt to burn down the woods and force him to reveal himself! Only by remaining perfectly still could he fully cloak his aura—if he moved, anyone searching would easily find him.

Luckily, Yu Ce blocked the Firelight Talisman. Qin Chuan glanced at the scene and let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Fine, let’s see—are my Firelight Talismans faster, or is your magic?” Wan Renmian sneered.

With that, he pulled out a thick stack of Firelight Talismans from his pouch. Yu Ce suddenly felt suffocated. “Three generations of your ancestors must have been Taoist priests, to have so many talismans on hand!” he thought with some silent resentment.

Wan Renmian ignored Yu Ce’s odd look. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a dozen streaks of fiery yellow lightning shooting in all directions.

But to everyone’s surprise, Yu Ce seemed to have anticipated this. He raised his hand and pressed it firmly to the ground.

Invisible threads, like the roots of trees, branched out in all directions.

Boom, boom…

Eight rock pillars shot up, arranged at the cardinal points, resembling thick stone stalagmites. They blocked every talisman, the points of contact giving off only faint sparks—less bright even than distant stars.

But then, deprived of spiritual support, the stalagmites melted away, leaving no trace behind, as if they had never existed.

For a moment, Wan Renmian’s expression shifted, as if at his wits’ end. He stumbled two steps back in alarm.

Seeing this, Yu Ce’s eyes glinted coldly as he pressed forward, not giving an inch.

Yet this standoff lasted only half a breath before Wan Renmian suddenly grinned. “Heh.”

“Laughing on the brink of death?” Yu Ce scoffed.

“Not quite.”

Wan Renmian drew out a few more talismans, intent on repeating his trick, though this time with only a handful.

Qin Chuan watched in puzzlement—was he lashing out in desperation? This trick clearly had no effect.

But Yu Ce’s heart lurched.

Much as before, the talismans scattered toward the thickest brush.

Just as Yu Ce lifted his hand to cast a spell, Wan Renmian’s eyes flashed as he suddenly surged forward like a meteor.

Yu Ce, who had previously held the advantage, turned pale and retreated several steps, having no time to intercept the talismans.

Sputter, sputter…

Several talismans struck the brush, and flames leapt up, dyeing the night scarlet.

“Hah, I knew you wouldn’t dare approach the Blood Pill!” Wan Renmian crowed.

“If you did, the resentment of thousands you carry would instantly trigger the malevolence within the Blood Pill and devour you, leaving not even a scrap behind!”

“Back when I first established my stronghold, you were ambushed by bandits and ended up at my Floating Pagoda Mountain. Even then, I thought it odd—could there be such coincidence in this world?”

“So I kept my guard up, leaving most of the killing to you.”

“You were ruthless, slaughtering without hesitation. Over the years, you truly made me lower my guard.”

“Thousands of lives, and even if you have means to resist, you can’t be unaffected. As long as I don’t use talismans to suppress the Blood Pill’s malevolence, you won’t be able to approach me for a single day!”

“Left to dissipate on its own, the malevolence will take days to fade! Even if I cannot consume the Blood Pill, I can offer it to the Mother of Li in exchange for a favor—to kill you!”

“As long as Brother Qin protects me, you’ll be safe, and I can even grant you a chance at a breakthrough!”

Qin Chuan emerged from the thicket, face dark, and with a single seal summoned the Water of Gui spell. Springs burst forth in midair, pouring streams that doused every flame.

He sighed inwardly. “Do I really have a choice?”

“To show my sincerity, I’ll remove Shi Xin’s Dao Foundation first!”

With that, he leapt to Shi Xin’s side and pressed a hand to his lower abdomen.

Shi Xin was nearly lifeless, his gaze fixed on the Blood Pill, his breath faint as gossamer. If not for the life-extending pill he’d taken earlier, he’d have already expired.

With the Dust Pill’s protection and little resentment on him, Qin Chuan had no trouble approaching the Blood Pill.

Seeing Wan Renmian’s method to preserve the Dao Foundation, Qin Chuan was pleased, holding his sword crosswise and casting a cold gaze at Yu Ce.

The two men faced off, murderous intent flashing in their eyes.

Yu Ce’s cultivation reigned supreme, having reached the eighth layer of Qi Refinement, but he dared not come within four yards of the Blood Pill and could only rely on long-range spells.

“If it were just Wan Renmian, I could expend some of my reserves and find a solution. But with the mysterious Qin Chuan added to the mix, my options are limited. I cannot let the Dao Foundation fall into Wan Renmian’s hands—Qin Chuan would be held hostage, and my situation would worsen.”

With that thought, he slapped his pouch and drew out a feather fan. Without pause, he plucked a feather.

“Alas, I’m not skilled at long-range attacks—only with the aid of a treasure,” he mused, hesitating no longer.

Gripping the bare hilt, he swept it forward. Instantly, a blade of pure azure wind, eight feet long, materialized with a resonant hum, hurtling forward.

Qin Chuan’s expression changed; he dared not be careless. He poured spiritual energy into his Bright Moon sword, making its glow ever more intense—just looking at it chilled the skin.

Clang!

The wind blade struck with the crisp ring of tempered steel.

Qin Chuan staggered back several steps, nearly bumping into Wan Renmian. His arms tingled from elbow to fingertips; only by infusing energy did the numbness subside.

“Protect me well! Do not be distracted while I consolidate the Dao Foundation!”

Wan Renmian’s face twitched. Qin Chuan’s origins were mysterious—if he hailed from a grand sect, so be it. But if he were a minor disciple with a showy sword picked up by chance…

Yu Ce’s cultivation far outstripped his own, and the treasure fan radiated a faint aura, plainly no ordinary item.

Judging by his actions, Yu Ce was clearly not adept at long-range attacks, which was why he’d taken the hit head-on.

Wan Renmian’s mind raced. He swallowed a spirit-restoring pill and raised his sword defensively.

“Not bad at all!”

Yu Ce’s expression turned grave. Though he lacked expertise in long-range attacks, Qin Chuan had taken the blow head-on and retreated only a few steps. For someone at the fifth layer of Qi Refinement, he was exceptional.

Yu Ce didn’t put the fan away but kept plucking feather after feather, sending them flying. Soon, a curtain of blue light formed in the air.

Qin Chuan showed no fear; instead, he advanced several steps, dragging the sword behind him, using a dragging stance to build momentum.

When the first blue blade drew within three feet, he swung the sword upward in a wide arc.

The azure light, less sharp but heavier than before, sent blood surging up his throat, leaving his lips stained red.

He staggered back several more steps, but before he could recover, a second wind blade struck.

Forcing himself to a halt, he had no time to change sword forms and used his blade like a staff to block it.

Again and again, the clear clang of steel rang out. Qin Chuan unleashed several sword lights, and though blood streamed from his mouth and nose, he did not retreat another step.

“What’s with this man?” Yu Ce wondered.

After more than a dozen attacks, the fan was stripped bare.

“His swordplay is utterly strange—each strike stronger than the last, like waves upon waves, unending.”