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The Myriad Medicine Mountain Range stretched for hundreds of miles, its boundaries disappearing into the horizon. The energy there was extraordinarily dense, and the soil rich and fertile—ideal for cultivating medicinal herbs.
Growls echoed throughout the mountains. Perhaps it was because so many people had recently trespassed that these roars now carried a savage, murderous intent. Infused with the realm's wild, violent aura, the local magical beasts were far more ferocious than those beyond the range.
Qian Renhan swept his refined soul power over the vegetation. He noted that most herbs here were only useful for Dou Zong cultivators, with a select few benefiting Dou Zun practitioners. Satisfied, he retracted his power. Indeed, the Pill Tower's inner worlds contained most of the highest-grade ingredients. Though the range's energy was potent, it could not nurture anything suitable for the Dou Sheng level.
In the distance, atop a towering, pillar-like peak, stood a grand hall constructed from colossal stones. Two massive beasts crouched guard at its entrance. Each exuded a feral aura; from their size and bearing, they seemed even stronger than the Xuan Water Tiger Jiao.
"Grandma, have you eaten enough?!" A sharp, agitated shout rang from within the hall. The two beasts at the door lifted their heads at the voice, then lowered them again as if they hadn't heard.
Deeper inside the stone hall lay a spacious plaza carpeted with neatly arranged piles of medicinal herbs. At its center, a petite figure clutched a rare herb in one hand and crammed it into her mouth without ceremony, the crisp crunch echoing in the chamber.
Among the treasures stood a burly, shirtless man, his stance casual yet exuding the immovable weight of a mountain—no one would dare underestimate him. He watched helplessly as Ziyan devoured his hard-earned hoard of herbs, the fruits of his years of labor.
"Stop crying out," she called over her shoulder. "Once I'm full, I'll take you away from here. Don't worry—it's just space-opening. That's my specialty." Mouth still full, she barely managed to speak clearly.
A gentle voice then drifted through the hall: "Ziyan, after a year, you still haven't grown an inch." Qian Renhan appeared at the doorway, guided by the mark he'd left on her.
Startled, Ziyan's round eyes blinked. She swallowed hastily, then scampered over to tug at his sleeve, her eyes welling with tears. "Qian Renhan, how did you find me? I was going to look for you as soon as I'd eaten my fill."
"I'm so miserable," she continued, voice trembling. "Back home, there were no good herb pills, only those nasty, disgusting concoctions they forced me to take. I barely escaped."
"That was to unlock your bloodline," Qian Renhan said with a fond smile. "For the sake of your future. The Dragon Emperor will be pleased to see how much you've grown." He squeezed her wrist and felt the rich pulse of her bloodline—far stronger than a year ago—and her body had become noticeably more resilient.
"Then can you brew me some pills? Yours taste so good—cool, crunchy, with a nice chew." She gestured at the plaza's herbs. "Use whatever you like."
Hearing this, the burly man felt as if he might vomit blood. Did she truly not care about using someone else's resources so recklessly?
Qian Renhan seated himself cross-legged. "Let's see… Spirit-Ascent Sap, Heartland Nurturing Nectar, Ascension Soul Fruit. Excellent—all high-tier, seventh-grade soul-enhancers. After a year's cultivation at Xingyun Pavilion, I can refine these into premium pills." He inhaled deeply, drawing the three prized herbs into his spirit, ready to begin the alchemy.
In a recessed basin nearby, over a hundred alchemists gathered. A black-clad figure hovered above them, surrounded by swirling spatial vortices. Distorting and manipulating space while engaging in combat marked the signature of a Dou Zun-level master.
Among the competitors—Song Qing, Cao Ying, Danchen—Xiao Yan remained hidden, watching and ready to strike if needed.
"Who are you, elder?" Cao Ying stepped in front of Danchen, eyes narrowed at the dark figure. "If you kill us here, won't the Pill Tower investigate?"
The man in black smiled cruelly. "Everyone here will die. The Pill Tower will never know."
The next moment, from among the hundred alchemists, more than a dozen murderous auras shot skyward, accompanied by agonized screams. In under a minute, blood drenched the once-lush ground. The once-boisterous practitioners now lay dead, eyes wide with shock and disbelief—they never even saw who struck them down.
"Bang! Bang!"
Cao Ying, Song Qing, and the others were caught off guard. Their Dou Qi erupted in violent pulses, intercepting the charging silhouettes one after another. Most of these competitors had grown up pampered, with little battlefield experience; they quickly broke and fled. Those who tried to activate their space stones found themselves halted by the black-clad elder's spatial manipulation.
Realizing escape was impossible, the few remaining—each a Dou Zong—banded together in a desperate counterattack. For a time, the ten shadowy assailants could not penetrate their defense, but it was only a matter of time before Cao Ying and the others would be overwhelmed.
Far inside the grand hall, the distorted space tunnel linking to the basin reflected the carnage in Qian Renhan's and Ziyan's eyes. Ziyan shook her head, exasperated: "The Pill Tower is pathetic—always boasting parity with the Soul Hall, yet it didn't even notice a single Dou Zun slipped in. If everyone here dies, the next generation of Pill Tower alchemists is doomed."
Qian Renhan watched the slaughter in silence. Rescue was not on his mind—Danchen, whose body had refined his soul power, was safe within the small enclave. The fate of the others mattered little to him. His pact with Yao Lao was to protect Xiao Yan's life; at this moment, Xiao Yan crouched behind a great tree, unseen and unharmed.
(End of Chapter)