He opened his eyes. His sapphire eyes now emitted a faint red glow, reflecting the blood dust still floating in the air. He had broken and swallowed life, and in return, his body had received a baptism of vileness. The newly etched Slaughter Seal felt hot, boiling, yet it strengthened his flesh with the promise of unforeseen power.

  The two remaining bandits, who had witnessed the horrific destruction of their comrade, no longer felt the lust for robbery. Their faces were deathly pale, mortal fear creeping into their spiritual senses. They looked toward the hooded shadow before them, whose aura remained dead, yet was now enveloped by an aura of will so cold and lethal that it felt suffocating.

  "D-Devil!" roared the second bandit, dropping his rusted sword and attempting to flee into the darkness of the thickets.

  "You have seen my Dao," Zhi Xuan hissed, his cold, wild smile returning. It was not the smile of a human, but the satisfied grin of a predator. "Therefore, you must become fertilizer for it."

  Zhi Xuan did not need to run. With speed far surpassing the Blood Transformation realm, or even Consciousness Transformation, he vanished. His step was but a shadow, and in an instant, he was behind the fleeing bandit. This time, he did not use his fist. He used his palm, which now radiated the newly etched Heavenly-Blood Body Law.

  SSSHHH!

  Zhi Xuan's touch felt like ice and fire combined. His palm pierced the bandit's back with ease, and then, instead of crushing, it began to siphon. The bandit's life essence, Blood Transformation spiritual essence, and even his pure blood were pulled out in thick red strands, absorbed directly into Zhi Xuan’s palm.

  The bandit fell limp, leaving only skin and dry bones that immediately crumbled into ash upon touching the ground. His body had been completely hollowed out. The absorbed strands of blood flowed along Zhi Xuan’s meridians, carving a second Slaughter Seal upon his chest.

  A sharp and intoxicating pain struck again, but this time, Zhi Xuan’s spiritual essence reacted faster, purifying the vileness and channeling it to strengthen his physical foundation.

  "Two Seals," Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice now hoarser and heavier. He felt his fragile physical foundation gaining a new layer of hardness, something that no Divine Stone could provide.

  He turned toward the last bandit, who was now kneeling, his face pressed against the ground, trembling like a leaf in a spiritual storm. The man did not dare to lift his head, not even daring to make a sound, only bubbling with terror.

  "Help! Spare me, Great Devil!" the bandit wailed, his voice breaking as he kissed the dust at his feet.

  Zhi Xuan stepped closer, his hooded shadow looming over the terrified bandit. The aura of death gathered from the two killings felt so cold and lethal.

  "Mercy?" Zhi Xuan snorted, his cold laugh returning. "I am forging the most honest Devil Path. And that Path requires blood. Tell me, what do you know of the secret path to the Divine Stone Mine in the Middle Continent?"

  The bandit, now seeing a chance to live, lifted his head quickly, his eyes filled with desperate hope. "I know! I know a safe way! There is a rat path, a route used by spiritual slave smugglers! It passes through the western part of the Central Desert Lake, a path hidden by low-level illusion formations!"

  Zhi Xuan leaned in slightly. "A rat path. And what reward do you expect for your truth?"

  "Life!" wailed the bandit, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks. "Only life, Great Devil! I will serve you! I will take you there!"

  Zhi Xuan fell silent. His faintly red eyes stared at the bandit coldly, assessing him. A servant? No. He did not need mortal followers. However, the information about the spiritual slave smugglers' route... that was interesting. Yet, he also did not trust bandits.

  BLARR! BOOM!

  Zhi Xuan swung the spiritual essence in his hand, punching the bandit who had no time to react until he, too, turned into blood dust. The sharp difference in realms made a Blood Transformation cultivator no more than an ant before a Consciousness Transformation expert. Moreover, these bandits only preyed on mortals, never gaining the experience of challenging higher cultivations.

  "Information obtained. Fertilizer absorbed," Zhi Xuan hissed, his smile widening. The remaining blood dust was pulled into his body, carving a third Slaughter Seal. The pain was lighter now, and the Slaughter Seal began to merge with his physical foundation, giving him strength far exceeding his fragile spiritual base.

  He watched the traces of blood dust slowly drift away in the wind, providing a feeling of cold satisfaction. "You should be grateful; I have returned you to the cycle of reincarnation quickly."

  Zhi Xuan stood tall once again. His tattered hood still covered most of his face, but beneath it, his sapphire eyes were clear again, without the crimson glow of blood. The slaughter was finished, and he was now stronger.

  The information he obtained from the bandit was valuable. A spiritual slave smugglers' rat path through the western part of the Central Desert Lake. It was the perfect route to avoid attention and enter the Ancient Wasteland territory secretly.

  "Central Desert Lake," Zhi Xuan murmured, his step steady once more. He carved the rune again, speeding toward the southeast, following the direction given by the old woman in Flint Stone City. His speed felt slightly higher now, a side effect of the strengthening from the Heavenly-Blood Body Law.

  The journey took three more days. Zhi Xuan moved like a ghost, relying on predatory instincts and enhanced Consciousness Transformation speed. He avoided cities, small sects, and even busy trade routes. He sought only the silence of the wilderness and untrodden paths.

  On the fifth day, after crossing barren mountains and endless dry plains, Zhi Xuan finally arrived at the edge of a massive lake. It was a strange sight; a lake so vast it looked like a small sea, but its water was a deep, thick blue, as if it had no bottom. Most peculiar was that the lake was completely silent, without waves, without life.

  The air around the lake felt cold and damp, contrasting with the desert heat he had just passed. A thin mist blanketed the lake's surface, giving it a mysterious and ancient aura. There were no boats, no fishermen, only a suffocating silence. This was the place the old woman had spoken of.

  Zhi Xuan stepped toward the lake's edge. The ground around it felt wet, but there was no sound of flowing water. He could feel faint fluctuations of spiritual essence beneath the lake's surface, an ancient presence hiding in the depths.

  "Tu Yan," Zhi Xuan murmured, the name feeling foreign in the middle of the lake's silence. He looked around, searching for signs of human presence, but there was only silence and a terrifying stillness.

  He walked along the lake's edge, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow, every illusion formation that might be hidden. The bandit had mentioned a rat path on the western part of the lake, hidden by low-level illusion formations.

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  After about an hour of searching, Zhi Xuan finally felt a strange essence fluctuation behind a group of ordinary-looking giant trees. It was a very ancient illusion formation, but Zhi Xuan, with divine sense honed by Ruo Xianxue’s intervention and experience, could see the gap within it.

  He stepped inside, crossing the invisible boundary of the illusion formation. Instantly, the scenery changed. The giant trees vanished, replaced by a hidden valley. In the middle of the valley sat a small camp made of tattered tents and dimly lit campfires. Several men with rough auras and eyes filled with danger were gathered; some were Blood Transformation cultivators, but there were one or two who reached the same Consciousness Transformation realm as himself.

  They were all smugglers, spiritual slave traders, or bandits operating on the fringes of the Ancient Wasteland. And in the center of the camp, beside the largest campfire, sat a bald man with a sparse beard and a black dragon tattoo wrapped around his left arm. He had a calm aura, but his eyes radiated an unhideable sharpness.

  That was Tu Yan. Tu Yan did not lift his head as Zhi Xuan entered the camp. He continued sharpening his dagger with calm, measured movements, as if he were already accustomed to unexpected presences. The other smugglers glanced at Zhi Xuan, their eyes filled with suspicion, but the Tattered Hood and Zhi Xuan’s dead aura made them lose interest. They assumed he was just a lost wanderer or someone seeking work.

  Zhi Xuan walked closer, his steps calm and measured. He stopped a few feet from Tu Yan, letting the silence speak. The scent of roasted meat and wood smoke filled the air, but Zhi Xuan ignored it.

  "The Waterless Blue Lake," Zhi Xuan said, his voice low and clear, breaking the valley's silence. It was the password given by the old woman.

  Tu Yan lifted his head slowly, his sharp black eyes staring at Zhi Xuan. His dagger stopped sharpening. The dragon tattoo on his arm seemed to flicker under the firelight. He showed no surprise, only a cold acknowledgment.

  "You come from the edge," Tu Yan hissed, his voice hoarse and heavy, like the grinding of stones. "Why do you seek the Waterless Blue Lake, Wanderer?"

  Zhi Xuan stood tall, letting his long, slender shadow fall over Tu Yan. The Tattered Hood moved slightly, but his face remained hidden.

  "Zhang Shui," Zhi Xuan said, his tone not demanding as he introduced himself, but possessing a strange weight of authority. "Is the name I carry to pierce destiny. I seek passage to the Divine Stone Mine, through the path only traversed by those who do not care if I live or die."

  Tu Yan grinned thinly, revealing yellowed teeth, seemingly indifferent to the name introduced. It was a predator's smile, yet somehow, it felt more honest than the fake elegance of the Thousand Heavens Sect cultivators. He shifted his gaze to the campfire, tossing a small piece of raw meat into the embers.

  "The path only traversed by those who do not care if you live or die," Tu Yan murmured, his hoarse laugh returning. "That is a good description of the Divine Stone Mine. And that path, Master Wanderer, comes at a high price."

  "Price," Zhi Xuan countered calmly, "is a negotiable currency. What do you ask, and what do you offer, Tu Yan?"

  Tu Yan looked at Zhi Xuan once more, this time with a more probing gaze. He weighed the Tattered Hood, the grey robe, and especially the cold will surrounding Zhi Xuan—a will that was disguised but felt lethal.

  "You have a newly carved dark aura," Tu Yan hissed, as if he could smell the blood Zhi Xuan had recently absorbed. "Not the aura of an ordinary cultivator. You want the Divine Stone Mine? I can give you the rat path—the spiritual slave smuggler's route. It is the path that will lead you directly to the back gate of the fallen Great Emperor's Tomb, which is the location of the Divine Stone Mine."

  Tu Yan paused, letting out a heavy spiritual breath, and returned to sharpening his dagger with calm movements.

  "And the price," Tu Yan continued, his eyes staring sharply at the campfire. "Is not spiritual stones. We need someone ready to die. We will send our spiritual slave caravan to the Divine Stone Mine in two days. You will escort that caravan. We will give you the path. It is an exchange, Zhang Gui."

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his sapphire eyes behind the shadow of his hood. Zhang Gui. Ghost Zhang. The name felt so fitting for his disguise—a ghost moving between life and slaughter. This bald man did not just see his aura; he smelled the scent of a newborn Devil Path and the vileness within.

  "Escort a spiritual slave caravan," Zhi Xuan repeated, his tone flat, ignoring the implicit insult. He did not care for mortal morality; he only cared for efficiency. A rat path, a place filled with danger, was the perfect location to absorb further Slaughter Seals. It was a favorable offer. "Does the route have bandits that interfere?"

  Tu Yan laughed hoarsely, a sound like pebbles grinding together. He rested his sharp dagger on the whetstone, stopping the monotonous sharpening motion. He looked at Zhi Xuan, his eyes radiating a grim excitement, as if he had found rare entertainment in this harsh desert.

  "Interfere?" Tu Yan hissed, his laughter subsiding into a sly smile. "Of course, Zhang Gui. This is a rat path, not a Righteous Sect highway. During that three-day journey, you will encounter the Wind Bandits, a group of bloodthirsty raiders, and perhaps, a few rogue cultivators seeking spiritual slaves for their filthy rituals."

  Zhi Xuan nodded slowly behind the Tattered Hood. It was a perfect deal. An honest and brutal exchange; a rat path for slaughter. The location of that route would ensure he met enough enemies to forge the Heavenly-Blood Body Law. He would not need to search; slaughter would come to him.

  "When does the caravan depart?" Zhi Xuan asked without further preamble, his voice filled with a cold promise. "I will ensure your slaves are safe under my hand."

  Tu Yan grinned widely, his black eyes glinting under the pulsing firelight. He gestured with his chin toward a row of tattered tents at the end of the valley, where dozens of silhouettes were tied, huddled in a pathetic silence.

  "The day after tomorrow. First dawn," Tu Yan hissed, his voice carrying the weight of an inevitable pact. "That caravan will carry precious cargo to the Divine Stone Mine. Your hand will be our guarantee. If you fail, or if those slaves are lost, you will pay with your own blood, Zhang Gui."

  Zhi Xuan did not respond to the threat. Threats, to him, were merely passing winds. He only nodded, a cold and absolute gesture. He was not interested in the fate of the spiritual slaves, but he was interested in the chance to carve more Slaughter Seals into his skin.

  "The day after tomorrow, first dawn," Zhi Xuan repeated, turning his body slowly back toward the illusion formation. "I will be here. Do not try to test the limits of my will before that day arrives, Tu Yan."

  He stepped back into the illusion formation, his hooded shadow disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. After Zhi Xuan vanished, the silence in the valley felt even more suffocating. Tu Yan returned to sharpening his dagger, his movements now slightly faster, but that sly smile remained on his lips.

  A burly man with eyes filled with bloodlust, one of the Consciousness Transformation cultivators who served as a guard, stepped closer. "Boss, who is he? His aura is dead. Why do you trust that hooded wild ghost? He looks like just a lost Blood Transformation cultivator."

  Tu Yan did not look up. His dagger scraped against the whetstone with a sharp, piercing sound. "He is Ghost Zhang. Do not be fooled by his dead aura, Hao. The scent of blood he absorbed from the desert... that is something newly born. And we are merely directing him to a hunting ground. He will clear our rat path of bandits, and in return, he gets what he wants—blood."

  Tu Yan finally lifted his head, his sharp eyes staring toward the spot where Zhi Xuan had disappeared. "He accepted the offer without negotiating the spiritual price. That means what we offered is far more valuable to him than wealth. And what is more valuable to someone like that? Blood."

  Outside the illusion formation, Zhi Xuan returned to the silent edge of the Central Desert Lake. The cold, damp air immediately greeted him, soothing the heat boiling beneath the newly carved Slaughter Seals. He did not return to choose lush vegetation; he chose a hidden cave in the barren hills near the lake, a perfect place to meditate and forge the Slaughter Seals further.

  Inside the dark and cold cave, Zhi Xuan took out the Earth Spirit Grass and the Cold Blood Lotus root he had just bought from the mysterious old woman. He sat cross-legged on the cold stone, took the Cold Blood Lotus root, and immediately swallowed it.

  A stinging cold immediately attacked his throat, followed by a surge of powerful spiritual essence, creeping into his meridians and cooling the spiritual fatigue remaining from days of travel and small-scale slaughter. The Earth Spirit Grass was used to stabilize and purify the essence, ensuring his Consciousness Transformation foundation remained solid amidst the brutal advancement of the Heavenly-Blood Body Law.

  In his Devil Sea of Consciousness, the spiritual Zhi Xuan returned beneath the Devil Tree of Life. He felt the Slaughter Seals—three faintly glowing runes—vibrating within his spiritual flesh. He directed all his focus onto the Heavenly-Blood Body Law, understanding the countless runes that composed that vile technique.

  "This art can only be forged in blood," hissed Ruo Xianxue, who was now floating near the Ancient Devil Monument once more. "But you can use this time to understand its core, Monkey. Understand how the Slaughter Seals work. They are conduits that transform the enemy's blood into pure Body Law."

  Zhi Xuan nodded; for now, he simply needed more blood to build the seals that would strengthen every part of his body. He shifted his gaze toward the Divine Furnace, where Xiao Die would soon be born. He had already thought that he must seek a group of Azure Kings to take the life essence that Xiao Die would need upon entering her early insect adolescence.