Inside the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron, Xiao Die's cocoon now radiated an aura so potent it nearly rivaled the Cauldron itself. The spiritual lines forming the cocoon flickered incessantly, as if ready to burst at any moment. Zhi Xuan could feel the resonance of ancient life, the peak Verdant Titan power waiting to be unleashed.

  "Her birth is imminent," the spiritual Zhi Xuan murmured. "She requires potent nourishment to endure the transition from a Verdant Titan into a teenage Thousand Feather Moth. An Azure King is best suited for this."

  He sharpened his divine sense, searching for spiritual traces to target desert beasts that might be roaming. However, no matter how far he extended his divine sense, he encountered a pure barrier in the form of the sandstorms frequenting the desert. This caused the traces of beasts to consist only of Sprouting Fangs, which were far too weak.

  The spiritual Zhi Xuan let out a long sigh. Although he had now found a solution for his physical foundation through the Heavenly-Blood Body Law, the preparation for Xiao Die was a different matter entirely. He could not rely on the slaughter of bandits to feed a Thousand Feather Moth destined to be born with the peak strength of a Verdant Titan; he needed a life essence that was purer and more potent.

  "Searching for an Azure King in the desert will be too time-consuming," Zhi Xuan hissed, closing his spiritual eyes. The spiritual sandstorm he felt outside his Sea of Consciousness was a natural barrier that protected savage creatures while simultaneously concealing Tu Yan’s movements.

  "There is no need to worry, Monkey," Ruo Xianxue suddenly interrupted, her voice carrying a lazy yet certain tone. "The Thousand Feather Moth is a sentient entity. Her birth will coincide with the nearest danger. Your focus now must be on yourself. If you cannot protect yourself, Xiao Die’s birth will be nothing but a burden that attracts more predators."

  "You mean Xiao Die will seek her own resources?" Zhi Xuan asked, opening his eyes to look at Ruo Xianxue. "I did not know a cocoon could dictate where its required resources are located."

  Ruo Xianxue snorted coldly, her voice sounding like a blade scraping against stone. She folded her delicate hands in front of her dark robe, the Ancient Devil aura surrounding her radiating an indisputable authority.

  "You forget the natural disposition of high-level spiritual entities, Monkey," Ruo Xianxue hissed, her double pupils regarding Zhi Xuan with an educational gaze. "A Thousand Feather Moth, even in its cocoon stage, is an Ancient Insect. It absorbs every life from its surroundings. Its birth will always be synchronized with the nearest richest nourishment, or with the nearest threat that can be converted into nourishment."

  The spiritual Zhi Xuan fell silent, absorbing this new understanding. He had almost forgotten that Xiao Die, even in her previous reincarnation, had absorbed three Azure Kings flawlessly. If the Thousand Feather Moth evolved with the peak power of a Verdant Titan, it meant she would attract resources equivalent to her strength, or perhaps even greater.

  The spiritual Zhi Xuan turned back toward the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron. Inside, Xiao Die’s cocoon pulsed with a calm rhythm, protected by the subtle resonance of the Four Seasons. Ruo Xianxue’s words regarding the synchronization of birth with nourishment or nearby threats felt like a cold acknowledgment. He realized that the Thousand Feather Moth was an intelligent and pragmatic entity; she would not starve to death, but her birth would be a very interesting phenomenon.

  "If she attracts another Verdant Titan," Zhi Xuan muttered, now standing beneath the Devil Tree of Life with his hand touching the rough spiritual bark. "It means I must face a Desert King to feed my pet insect."

  "A Desert King?" Ruo Xianxue snorted, her cold laughter echoing in the Sea of Consciousness. "Do not overestimate yourself, Monkey. A Verdant Titan is an Emperor to an Azure King, yes. But in this harsh desert, it will not be the only ancient creature lurking. Focus on your Slaughter Seals."

  In the dark cave, Zhi Xuan’s physical body radiated a calm and lethal aura. He absorbed the spiritual essence filtered by the Earth Spirit Grass and strengthened by the Cold Blood Lotus. Every breath of essence felt like fuel heating the three newly etched Slaughter Seals. Beneath his skin, the runes glowed faintly.

  Two days passed quickly, spent in tense silence and deep concentration. Zhi Xuan successfully stabilized his Slaughter Seals, understanding that this technique was a process of reverse alchemy—transforming external vileness into an eternal internal foundation.

  As the first dawn of the day designated by Tu Yan arrived, Zhi Xuan left his hiding cave. The Tattered Hood covered his pale face, and the tattered grey robe blended perfectly with the color of the desert earth. Beneath the cloth, his physical foundation felt much denser and heavier, not due to realm cultivation, but because of the promise of strength from the three forged Slaughter Seals.

  He stepped back into the illusion formation, crossing the invisible boundary that hid the concealed valley. The smugglers' camp was now busier. Dozens of spiritual slaves, bound in essence chains and leather ropes, were dragged to the center of the valley. Their eyes were hollow, filled with deep suffering and fear. They were victims, merely tools for mining Divine Stones.

  Zhi Xuan ignored the sight. Mortal morality was a luxury he could not afford, especially when his own goal was to carve a Devil Path atop bones. Tu Yan stood beside the spiritual slave caravan, holding a long whip made from the tendons of spiritual creatures. His sharp eyes immediately caught Zhi Xuan’s presence. A sly smile once again bloomed on his thick lips.

  "On time, Ghost Zhang," Tu Yan hissed, twirling the whip in his hand. "The caravan is ready. We will move west through the rat path. You will lead the way. Clear the road of vermin. Remember, we do not care about you, but if these slaves are lost, your Blood will pay for the loss."

  Zhi Xuan nodded once, a cold and absolute gesture. He was not interested in threats; he was only interested in the mission.

  "Give me the map of the route," Zhi Xuan said, his voice hoarse behind the hood. "And I will clear your rat path."

  Tu Yan threw a tattered scroll made of animal hide to the ground. Zhi Xuan leaned down, picking up the scroll. The map was crude, marked with simple runes pointing to a winding path between desert canyons and dangerous sand formations. It was a perfect path for an ambush.

  Zhi Xuan funneled his divine sense into the map, absorbing it in an instant. Without another word, he turned and stepped toward the narrow gap in the hills indicated by Tu Yan.

  "We will be waiting behind you, Ghost Zhang," shouted one of the Consciousness Transformation cultivators who served as Tu Yan’s guard, his tone filled with mockery.

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. He simply stepped into the gap. As soon as he entered, the Tattered Hood and grey robe merged with the shadows and sand. His enhanced Consciousness Transformation speed, combined with his predatory instincts, made him move like a hunting ghost.

  Inside the narrow gap shown by Tu Yan, the air immediately changed. The dry desert heat was replaced by a suffocating humidity shrouded in the smell of moss and rusted metal. This was a true rat path; a trail abandoned by civilization, known only to those living outside the Laws of Heaven.

  Zhi Xuan moved with absolute silence. Beneath the Tattered Hood, his face felt like a mask of ice. He did not rely on physical eyes. His divine sense crept like a shadow, scanning every crack and every shadow that might hide an ambush. The runes etched beneath his feet allowed for movement that left almost no trace, as if he were merely an illusion drawn by the desert wind.

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  One hour after entering the path, he felt rough essence fluctuations. It was not the tidy spiritual essence of a sect cultivator, but a mixed aura thick with bloodlust and vileness. They were hiding behind an illusion stone formation, waiting for slow-moving prey.

  "Eight people in the Blood Transformation realm, this joke is truly something," Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice hoarse and cold beneath the hood. His eyes narrowed. They were the Wind Bandits, the group of raiders Tu Yan had mentioned, who used this path as a hunting ground. This was a perfect hunt. Zhi Xuan did not need to seek fortune; fortune came to him, bringing fertilizer in the form of blood.

  Zhi Xuan did not stop. He stepped forward deliberately, as if he were merely a foolish, lost wanderer. The Tattered Hood silenced his aura fluctuations, making him appear as an easy target. He wanted them to attack; he wanted to make them feel certain of victory before he snatched them from mortal existence.

  Suddenly, from behind the faint stone formation, a thick spiritual essence rope shot out, intended to snare Zhi Xuan’s feet. It was a standard technique used by raiders to immobilize prey.

  WHIPP!

  Zhi Xuan halted his steps, not out of surprise, but out of cold arrogance. He did not evade. He allowed the essence rope to wrap around his ankle.

  In the next split second, eight figures rushed out from their hiding places, evil grins plastered on their faces. They were muscular men with blood-red eyes, wearing coarse leather armor adorned with corrupt raider runes.

  "Ha! You are so easy, Wanderer!" roared the leader of the Wind Bandits, a man with a thick black beard, swinging a greatsword enveloped in late-stage Blood Transformation essence. "Tattered grey robes and a cheap hood. Hand over your storage bag, and we will ensure you do not suffer too much!"

  Zhi Xuan let out a soft sigh; he did not have much time for mere Blood Transformation stage cultivators that he could topple with ease. He waved his hand, and the hilt of the Thunder Sword immediately floated into his palm. With one hand in front of his chest, the thunder sword surged and emitted rumbling flashes of thunder.

  "First Heaven, Thousand Thunder Storm."

  BUZZZZ!

  From the Thunder Sword, a rumble of thunder sparked, and Zhi Xuan released the blade, which immediately floated toward the eight bandits surrounding him. The Thunder Sword's aura, which had been hidden beneath layers of calm essence, suddenly exploded with brutal Thunder Law. The sword, which should have been a powerful weapon, now acted as a catalyst. In a split second, the eight Wind Bandits no longer saw a hooded wanderer; they saw a god of wrath wreathed in lightning.

  Flashes of blue-white lightning immediately enveloped the narrow gap. It was not an ordinary sword attack, but a lightning storm inspired by pure Consciousness Transformation Thunder Law forged at Heaven Sword Peak. The lightning did not only attack the physical body; it attacked the spiritual essence and the Sea of Consciousness.

  ROAR!

  The leader of the Wind Bandits, at the late-stage Blood Transformation realm, was the first to feel the horror. His rusted greatsword was immediately melted into molten iron by the Thunder’s heat. He had no time to scream; lightning coiled around him like a spiritual snake, destroying his Dao foundation and turning his flesh into smoking ash.

  The seven other bandits suffered the same fate, but with a more subtle touch of vileness. Thunder was Law, and Zhi Xuan controlled it with precision. The lightning shattered their Dao and paralyzed their strength, but left their biological foundations intact—merely charred skin and flesh.

  The Thunder Sword returned, spinning gracefully in the air before landing back in Zhi Xuan’s palm. Silence immediately descended upon the narrow gap, leaving only the smell of ozone and burnt meat. The eight figures of the Wind Bandits lay lifeless, their eyes still filled with the final horror they had witnessed—a shadow shrouded in lightning.

  Zhi Xuan took a long spiritual breath. Using such a powerful Thunder Sword technique consumed a portion of his newly recovered Consciousness Transformation essence, but the result was a swift and efficient purging. He had no time to play games. He loosened the essence rope still wrapped around his ankle and stepped forward. His slender hand, holding the Thunder Sword, now radiated the bleak black light of the Heavenly-Blood Body Law.

  "Fertilizer," Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice containing a cold promise. He did not use the Thunder Sword to kill; he used it as a catalyst to draw in prey. Now, he had to perform the true task. He touched the chests of the eight dead bandits one by one.

  SSSHHH! SSSHHH!

  Strands of thick blood, corrupt spiritual essence, and even remnants of evil will were pulled out from each corpse. It was a repulsive process, but Zhi Xuan showed no sign of nausea. He only felt the familiar hot sensation spreading through his body.

  The newly etched Slaughter Seal runes immediately spun wildly. The strength from the eight Blood Transformation cultivators, though corrupt, was purified by the Heavenly Wheel of Samsara and channeled to forge his physical foundation. The pain was now almost entirely replaced by an intoxicating feeling of increasing power.

  "Eleven," Zhi Xuan murmured, his breath feeling light and whole. "If those who come are not in the Consciousness Transformation realm, then I can easily obtain these Seals without much effort."

  He felt eleven Slaughter Seals now residing beneath his skin—three from the previous bandits and eight newly etched from the Wind Bandits. Each Seal felt like a tightening dark gold chain, suppressing the fragility of his old foundation and replacing it with strength forged from vileness. His spiritual fatigue felt completely recovered, and even his physical foundation now possessed a strange hardness.

  Zhi Xuan took a long breath, ignoring the smell of charred meat and embers around him. The slaughter had become a brutal meditation, an alchemy that turned death into eternity. He did not bother taking the bandits' storage bags; material wealth no longer interested him.

  He placed the Thunder Sword into his storage bag, and the hooded shadow stepped forward once more. The narrow gap, which had just been an arena of slaughter, now felt even quieter. Zhi Xuan left no trace, only smoking ash and the scent of death that would soon be carried away by the desert wind.

  A few minutes after he moved on, Tu Yan and the spiritual slave caravan arrived behind him.

  The caravan was horrific. Dozens of spiritual slaves, bound with essence chains, were dragged by rough-faced guards. They moved slowly, the slaves' suffering and fear creating a heavy aura in the air. Tu Yan, leading the way, immediately saw the charred, smoking corpses on the ground. He halted his steps, his sharp eyes fixed on the scene. The lingering Slaughter Aura in the air, though quickly dissipating, still felt very thick.

  The caravan guards were shocked. They recognized the remains of the Wind Bandits—a group known for their vileness and strength in ambushes. Their leader, a Consciousness Transformation cultivator, immediately stepped forward, holding his weapon warily.

  "Boss, this... this is the Wind Bandits," the cultivator whispered, his voice filled with disbelief. "All wiped out. And the aura... it is lightning, pure, yet so brutal."

  Tu Yan did not answer. He stepped to one of the corpses, poking it with the tip of his whip. The corpse immediately collapsed into ash, leaving only charred skin. Tu Yan grinned thinly, his smile now wider and full of grim joy.

  "Ghost Zhang," Tu Yan muttered, his voice hoarse and containing acknowledgment. "He did not clear the path; he cleared the prey. He is indeed reliable for things like this; perhaps he comes from a sect that upholds blood as an offering."

  He turned to his guards. "Do not worry. He is doing our job. We will move now. The disappearance of the Wind Bandits will attract larger predators. We have no time to linger."

  Tu Yan paid no mind to the horrified stares of the spiritual slaves witnessing the remnants of the slaughter. To him, the sight was proof of efficiency, a guarantee that their rat path would be safe, at least for the next few hours. The words of the Wandering Devil, Ghost Zhang, were a promise kept with honest vileness.

  The caravan moved again. The guards, though wary of the shadow that had just sped away, now held their weapons with greater pride. They felt they were under the protection of an entity far more brutal than themselves—a ghost who made slaughter his cultivation.

  While the heavy caravan dragged their steps through the narrow gap, far ahead, Zhi Xuan sped through the desert canyons. Every step was a fine carving, allowing him to traverse difficult terrain without hindrance. His Dao Heart now felt cold and sharp, a perfect reflection of the eleven Slaughter Seals residing beneath his skin. The increased physical strength gave him an intoxicating sense of dominance.

  WHUSHH!

  Zhi Xuan arrived at the end of the canyon gap, where the terrain turned into a vast plain enveloped in a fine sandstorm. In the distance, the silhouettes of massive mountains resembling dragon teeth were faintly visible, where the Divine Stone Mine was located.

  "This path is too open," Zhi Xuan muttered. He directed his divine sense, and this time, he did not feel the spiritual storm blocking him. The natural sandstorm, though powerful, could not overcome Consciousness Transformation divine sense. He scanned the area before him, looking for larger movements.

  From a distance of several li, Zhi Xuan could feel a spiritual aura so oppressive. A lump that looked like a stone, yet it was a long and piercing tail near the hidden path. Zhi Xuan could feel the same aura as when Xiao Die first emitted the spiritual aura characteristic of a Verdant Titan.

  "Giant Earth Scorpion... This is what Xiao Die is looking for," Zhi Xuan murmured, feeling a real threat more terrifying than an Azure King in the Consciousness Transformation realm. "Six zhang, that is large enough for a Verdant Titan."