Yue Hongzhu and Xiao Zheng reached the summit, coughing blood. A middle-aged man with four arms rushed to them—Yun Fan, their uncle-master.
He summoned his four-armed Primordial Spirit. "I cannot undo this art, but I have enough Primal Dao Essence to keep you alive while I force it out."
His spirit gripped Xiao Zheng's heart and scraped away the Reverse Longevity. Another finger touched Yue Hongzhu's golden core, erasing the yin-tone resonance Su Yan had left inside.
Behind Yun Fan, the other Yuan Ding cultivators grinned. They were born warriors, raised to plant enemy heads on stakes for their Dragon Abyss God.
"We will meet him again," Yun Fan said. "No one can resist so many spirit roots."
* * *
Su Yan leaped into the air, reaching for a mulberry spirit root. Its silkworm fruits spat threads, wrapping him and Yuan Qi into a cocoon.
Other roots joined the sport. Arrow roots shot thorns. Fire roots ignited the cocoon. Spear-thorn roots pierced it through.
The cocoon exploded. Su Yan burned, pierced, smoking—but alive.
He grabbed root after root, tearing out their Primal Dao Essence. They withered.
"A-Ying! The heaven fire is burning into your Xiyi Domain!" Yuan Qi shouted.
Su Yan tried to suppress the flames with his golden core. It failed. The fire reached his bones.
Then a bell tumbled from his Bubbling Spring secret, green with rust, swaying like a drunk.
It rang once. The fire died.
Yuan Qi stared at the scorched body. "He's dead. Let's split his treasures and go our separate ways."
The corpse moved. Char cracked away. New flesh surged beneath.
"What were you saying about splitting something?" Su Yan asked, pulling on fresh clothes.
The bell rumbled. "He wanted your inheritance."
Yuan Qi got another beating.
* * *
Su Yan had stolen the essence of thirteen roots. Five of his Six Secret medicines now blazed inside him. Only the soul medicine of the Bubbling Spring remained dormant.
He gave the extra essence to Yuan Qi and the bell. The ancient bell's green rust faded, its bronze gleam returning.
They climbed to the summit. The spirit roots had woven their light into a road stretching toward the void. Crumbling immortal palaces emerged from the darkness.
The Heavenly Dao Artifact dragged at the roots, trying to pull the palaces into Minor Xuan Heaven.
Su Yan sensed its heavenly resonance. It reminded him of the Emperor Wu's era.
He reached out with his own spirit.
And heard the voice again.
"Return the stolen roots. Reopen the road. Or face annihilation."