The old immortal's screams echoed from the prison cart. He had attacked Su Yan's soul with a spirit technique, only to shatter two of his own fingers against an indestructible soul-light.
"This boy possesses a soul-protecting treasure," the old man thought, clutching his ruined hand. "If I can seize it after taking Zhu Zhongquan's body, my tribulation resistance will multiply."
Outside, Su Yan knelt before the Crimson Immortal Plant. His Heavenly Eye pierced its layers, revealing a dao image—nine leaves woven from threads of primal light. At its heart floated a sphere of watery radiance the size of a fist.
He reached for it. The moment it touched his skin, it dissolved into his body.
A cool current swept through him. His Mud Pill secret's longevity medicine ignited, catalyzed by the sphere's energy. His skin glowed. Fragrance poured from his pores—a human-shaped immortal herb.
"A-Yan," Yuan Qi drooled. "You smell delicious. One bite?"
"Me first," the bell demanded, circling Su Yan's head. "We've bled together. One sip of your blood is nothing."
Su Yan sealed his Xiyi Domain. "You're both shameless."
He taught the village elders a simple cultivation mantra derived from the plant's dao image—enough to command its power and protect their homes. Then he turned to more pressing matters.
"The stone city is a gateway," he told Guo Xiaodie and Zhu Hongyi. "On full moons, it transports people to the Ancient Battlefield. That's where more immortal plants grow."
Li Yingzhu leaned too close, inhaling deeply. "You smell like paradise."
"Stop it," Su Yan pushed her away.
They marched toward the city. Along the way, they passed grave mounds where the ancestors of these migrants slept. Blood-red clouds gathered above the tombs. Even Su Yan, who had wielded the stone axe, felt uneasy.
"They fought while alive," Yuan Qi murmured. "They dream of war even in death. True warriors."
The city walls were built around the skeleton of an impossibly massive serpent. Claw marks gouged the bone, still stained with ancient blood.
Arrows thundered from above—bone shafts longer than a man, shot by Li clan nuo masters.
Li Tingshu appeared on the wall, bowing with false warmth. "Aunt! A misunderstanding. My guards mistook you for enemies."
Li Yingzhu smiled sweetly. "One day your eyes will mistake your father for someone else."
Inside, Su Yan noted the gathered powers. Cui Dongli of the Cui family, eyes burning with challenge. Gao Xingqian playing his guqin on a stone bridge, each note carrying killing intent. Chai Wuyong of the rising Chai clan. And more.
Then a youth walked through the gates alone, a golden core hovering before him.
The ancient bell shuddered. "A-Yan... I sense my master's aura on him."
Su Yan studied the boy. Pure qi cultivation. No nuo arts at all. Yet his power rivaled any in the city.
"Who is he?" Su Yan asked.
"Xue Ying'an," someone whispered. "A disciple of Li Xiaoke."
The bell trembled. Li Xiaoke—the name of its master, three thousand years lost.