Demon cores were not common among first and second-grade demon beasts. Only the most powerful of second-grade beasts, or those at the third grade and above, would typically possess them. But a Dharma Orb was different. The chances of a Dharma Orb appearing were less than one in ten thousand. Throughout the entire cultivation world, records of Dharma Orbs were limited to only a handful of scattered legends.

  According to tradition, the demon beasts of the present day were the descendants of various ancient behemoths and great demons. Although their bloodlines had thinned to a negligible degree, they could still, inexplicably, awaken a portion of their ancestral abilities, forming a Dharma Orb within their bodies. The awakening wasn't necessarily correlated to the beast's strength; the appearance of Dharma Orbs followed no discernible pattern.

  Nor was the awakened ability always a powerful innate spell. It could be something quite useless, a negligible talent. After all, even in ancient times, not every type of beast was exceptionally powerful.

  However, if one inherited an extremely powerful spell, as the awakened being's cultivation advanced, they could potentially wield earth-shattering might.

  "Grab the Dharma Orb! Grab the demon core!"

  The cultivators surrounding the lake were now gripped by a fervent madness, having completely lost their senses. Legends of the Dharma Orb were distant and mysterious, amplified through countless retellings. Some even believed that obtaining one would instantly skyrocket their cultivation, allowing them to soar above the nine heavens, look down upon all living beings, and achieve the Golden Core.

  There were also a few ignorant cultivators who had never even heard of a Dharma Orb. But seeing the frenzy of those around them, even the dullest could grasp that this was an extraordinary treasure.

  Thousands of cultivators surged down from the lake shore, fighting over the treasures. The spectacle was breathtaking.

  "Haha! I got it! The Dharma Orb is mine!" A young cultivator riding a white eagle was the fastest. He snatched the Dharma Orb and, delirious with joy, reached for the demon core as well.

  "Idiot." Leo's comment was cold and barely audible. Before the words even faded, dozens of spells streaked towards the low-flying eagle. The white eagle and its rider, unable to mount any defense, screamed as they were blasted into a mist of blood by the concentrated magical assault. A shower of white eagle feathers drifted down from the sky.

  Witnessing the young cultivator's gruesome death, Leo smiled bitterly. He had, of course, harbored some thoughts about the Dharma Orb when he first descended into the lake bed. But the cultivators around him had descended into a state of near-insanity. Whoever seized the prize, if they couldn't immediately escape, would be instantly swarmed and attacked by everyone nearby.

  Even a Foundation Establishment cultivator, caught in such chaotic melee, couldn't guarantee their safety. The Crystal Toad, despite its terrifying power, had been overwhelmed and killed. And everyone present was merely at the Qi Refining stage.

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  Realizing this, Leo shook his head ruefully. Perhaps this Dharma Orb was enough to grant entry into any sect. But a treasure, no matter how fine, required a life to enjoy it. He didn't believe he possessed the skill to snatch the Orb and escape under the gaze of thousands. So Leo lowered his sights. He focused on the scattered spirit stones and other spiritual items half-buried in the mud, which were being largely ignored in the frenzy. With growing excitement, he harvested over a dozen low-grade Water Spirit Stones and four or five Ice Spirit Stones. He had some stock of Water Spirit Stones in the boundary space, but Ice, Wind, and Lightning spirit stones were extremely rare. Keeping them for the future would surely prove useful.

  "Crow Ore!" Leo spotted a piece of ore required for the Ancient Sword Sect's quest and quickly sent it into the boundary. He had heard it could be used to refine a Crow Sword, a magic weapon. Even this small piece was worth a considerable sum, at least several hundred spirit stones.

  Though he couldn't grab the top prize, scooping up all this loot was still excellent. Leo felt quite satisfied. Even refining Qi Gathering Pills would take considerable time to earn several hundred spirit stones.

  "Hmm?" As Leo reached for a Water Spirit Stone, another hand snatched it first. Glancing over, he saw a familiar face: Laszlo, the fat man who had tried to sell him the city regulations pamphlet back when he first entered Moonwatch Immortal City. Perhaps sensing Leo's far higher cultivation, Laszlo, having grabbed the stone, nimbly turned and disappeared into the crowd, not even recognizing him.

  Leo chuckled silently. This fat man was truly sly. As plump as he was, with mediocre cultivation, weaving through the chaotic, treasure-grabbing mob was a skill in itself. It was only a low-grade spirit stone, not worth starting a serious conflict over. Leo let it go. It seemed he wasn't the only one with the self-awareness to stoop and collect the leftovers while others fought for the main prize.

  The lake bed was now thick with the cloying stench of blood. Countless cultivators must have died fighting over the demon core and the Dharma Orb. Leo worked hard to avoid the whirlpools of conflict. With his cultivation level, getting drawn in would be extremely dangerous.

  But despite his caution, events sometimes spiraled beyond an individual's control. A ferocious man with a scarred face leaped up and snatched the Dharma Orb from the air. In the next instant, over a dozen wind blades shot towards him. The hand clutching the orb was severed cleanly at the wrist.

  "Ah! My hand!" The man's scream was lost in the chaos. No one paid any attention to a loser in the battle. Several other cultivators lunged desperately for the orb, only to be driven back by another barrage of dozens of spells, retreating resentfully. The lake bed was littered with corpses and severed limbs. With so many dead, the severed hand, still gripping the orb, fell unnoticed into the mud, and for a brief moment, no one grasped it.

  "Where's the Dharma Orb?"

  "Who took it? Hand it over, or I'll wipe out your entire clan!" Chaos erupted as the crowd realized the orb had vanished.

  "The Dharma Orb!" Leo's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't dared to contend for it, yet here it was, within arm's reach. Cultivators nearby were in an uproar over its disappearance, murderous intent radiating from them.

  Great fortune lies in peril. He hadn't joined the fight because the odds of dying were too high, not because he didn't want the treasure. Leo steeled himself. If it was delivered right to his feet, refusing to take it would be sheer stupidity. In the cultivation world, some risk was inevitable. Without a second thought, he grabbed the orb from the severed hand and, in a flash, sent it into the boundary space.

  "Damn it! The Dharma Orb's gone! Which bastard hid it? Hand it over!"

  The cultivators, having fought for so long, exhausting their energy and spirit stones, were frantic with rage upon discovering the object of their desire had inexplicably vanished.

  "Some bastard must have put it in his storage pouch! We search! We'll search everyone until we find it!" several furious voices shouted.

  "Patriarch Lais, Patriarch Hoth, it seems someone has already secured the treasure, though we don't know who. After days of effort, we can't return empty-handed, can we? There are too many scattered cultivators here. None of our factions alone can subdue them all. Why don't we join forces? We can seal all access points to the lake and search every storage pouch. Once we find the Dharma Orb, we can auction it and split the proceeds. What do you say?"

  Long-Browed Old Freak wiped mud from his face, looking quite disheveled. He was a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator, usually looking down on others and fearing no one, not even the now-dead Old Man Flying Roc. Yet here he was, having made a wretched spectacle of himself in this lake bed scramble, and for nothing. Long-Browed Old Freak was naturally unwilling to accept this outcome.