Warren Wong was nearly out of tricks—he had already used every move he could. If this kept up, he’d have to get ruthless. Suddenly, Warren cut a gash into his own arm, and blood instantly began to flow out. That blood had a faint golden tinge.
Golden blood? Evan Yang stared suspiciously. Why did Warren’s blood have a trace of gold in it?
Warren’s face turned strange, then he flicked his hand, scattering the blood onto the insects. The bugs touched by the blood seemed to absorb some kind of energy and turned into golden bugs. More and more insects began transforming into countless golden bugs.
To make sure Evan Yang would be attacked by the golden bugs, Warren didn’t hesitate to spill even more blood.
Evan didn’t know exactly what was up with that blood, but he was sure it was anything but ordinary—because the insects were already starting to go berserk.
If Evan had felt nothing before, now there was at least some pain—the kind you get from being rammed at high speed. The bugs still couldn’t get inside his body, but they were leaving faint marks on his skin.
“This isn’t going to work.” Evan muttered as he realized the bugs had gone berserk, and started thinking about how to solve the situation.
Using fire was no good—the range was too small and too slow. He could only burn a small number at a time, but his entire body was covered in bugs. Fire just couldn’t solve the problem quickly enough.
Seeing Evan’s expression, Warren sneered, “This time, let’s see if you can survive.” He stopped the bleeding, his body looking a bit weak now.
“Want me dead? Just these bugs? Not even close!” Evan sneered, and suddenly his whole body was covered in crackling electric currents.
The lightning absorbed by the Heaven-Cold Seed now covered Evan’s entire body.
Whenever a golden bug touched him, it got zapped and dropped to the ground, twitching.
Seeing that the electricity was effective against the bugs, Evan grinned. Soon, piles of bug corpses had accumulated at his feet, and no more bugs could get close. However many came, that many dropped.
When Warren saw the corpses piling up at Evan’s feet, he was shocked. “How are you doing this?”
“Easy. Watch.” Evan smiled, lifted his hand, and began tapping bugs. Any bug his hand touched dropped instantly.
“Impossible!” Warren couldn’t believe it was so easy for Evan to deal with the bugs. He knew just how deadly these insects were—there were hundreds of thousands, even millions, not just a few.
Evan ignored him and just kept moving, using his body to sweep through the swarm. In no time, another huge batch of bugs went down—it was almost a massacre. Every movement killed tens of thousands.
After a while, Evan’s body became visible again, surrounded by heaps of corpses.
“No, no way!” Warren retreated in terror, staring at Evan. He was extremely weak now, totally no match for Evan, and he’d already used up all the bugs he could control.
“Who is that person?” Evan really wanted to know who Warren was working for, and how he got such bizarre powers.
“I’m not telling you. Dream on!” Warren kept backing away, one hand already pulling out a magic treasure.
Evan noticed Warren’s movement and rushed forward, but he was still a step too late—Warren had vanished, leaving behind a smear of golden blood.
Evan frowned, crouched down, and muttered as he inspected the blood, “What kind of blood is this, anyway?”
“Kid, you really are insane.” Old Clam laughed after watching Evan expertly use every skill he’d learned.
“Good thing everything I’ve learned counters his attacks. Otherwise, I’d be just like the others.” Evan sighed as he stood up. Of the hundred-plus Soul-Forming experts who entered here, only he was left.
And Warren, the culprit behind it all, had already vanished.
“You need to be careful from now on. Anything that’s survived for tens of thousands of years is no joke. Don’t ever let your guard down.” Old Clam was confident in Evan, but just thinking about the mastermind—a terrifying being who’d lived for tens of thousands of years—made even him uneasy.
A peak Spirit-Wandering expert can live for maybe five thousand years, and with treasures or life-extending pills, maybe a few thousand more. But living for tens of thousands of years? Even the best Spirit-Wandering expert couldn’t do that.
Evan knew Old Clam’s worries weren’t baseless, so he’d already prepared himself. As for Warren—his sudden strength must be connected to that mastermind. Otherwise, Warren could never be this strong, nor have such bizarre summoning powers.
Taking Old Clam’s warning to heart, Evan started heading back the way he came. He reached the cave, then the gorge, calculated the time, and realized he’d have to wait until the next opening to leave. So he began exploring the space while he waited.
As for Warren, he was feeling awful—like he’d lost too much blood. His face was pale as he growled, “Damn it, Evan Yang, I’ll never let you off!”
He staggered toward a special Transmission Stone, much larger than normal—about as long as an arm, set atop a rock.
“Master.” Warren said weakly.
On the other end, sensing Warren’s injuries, a dull voice asked, “Why are you so badly hurt?”
“It was him—he’s the one who hurt me.” Warren said, face twisted with hatred.
“Who?” The voice asked curiously.
“Evan Yang, that filthy beggar!” Warren’s rage toward Evan was beyond words; he wanted nothing more than mutual destruction.
“Him? Where is he?” The other person was shocked and excited.
“He’s in the Everwind Valley space.” Warren said weakly.
“He went there too? You mean you couldn’t even take him down?” The person on the other end was clearly losing patience, blaming Warren.
So Warren explained everything that had happened to the person on the other side of the Transmission Stone.
He couldn’t see the other person’s expression, but the dull, angry, and shocked aura was obvious—even through the stone.
“How is this possible? It’s only been a few years, and he’s already this powerful!” The other person muttered in disbelief.
“I’m curious too—how did he cultivate so fast? He’s already late Soul-Forming Realm, and none of the attacks in the formation worked on him. Even the bugs were all wiped out.” Warren said bitterly.
“Damn it! Those bugs took tens of thousands of years to breed, and now they’re all dead?” Hearing this, the person on the other end was nearly furious.
“I didn’t expect things to turn out like this either.” Warren said, feeling wronged.
“Damn it. How many primordial spirits are still missing?” The other person calmed down and asked.
“The original plan was to collect a hundred, but now we only have eighty-something. The rest either self-destructed or became useless.” Warren reported.
“Still missing a dozen or so?” The other person was clearly impatient.
“Mm.” Warren didn’t dare say anything extra; whatever the other person asked, he just answered.
“Quickly—don’t waste any time. Gather the last dozen for me as soon as possible. I don’t want to stay in this darkness any longer. I want to break out and seize this world.” The other person sounded like he’d been imprisoned for countless years, now desperate to escape.
“Master, don’t worry. I’ll collect the rest in the shortest time possible.” Warren replied loyally.
“Good. If you finish this task, I’ll help you reach the Spirit-Wandering Realm—so you can destroy him yourself!” The other person was pleased with Warren’s loyalty.
Warren was overjoyed. He knew the other person really had the power to help him break through. Once he reached the Spirit-Wandering Realm, Evan wouldn’t stand a chance—so Warren was more eager than ever to collect the remaining primordial spirits and advance.
Seeing Warren’s joy, the other person said, “Go, heal your wounds, then help me gather the rest.”
“Yes.” Warren answered, but as he walked away, the other person suddenly asked, “What about the Vampiric Blood-Sprite? Why didn’t it help you?”
Warren stopped and turned back, replying bitterly, “Evan Yang captured it—it’s in his hands now.”
“What? That thing was my masterpiece—it took me tens of thousands of years to create the Vampiric Blood-Sprite! How could you let that kid capture it? No, you must recover, and while collecting the spirits, also track down that kid. If possible, rescue the Blood-Sprite first.” The other person was deeply moved.
“But my strength…” Warren knew that, in his current state, he could only run if he encountered Evan.
“Don’t worry. Go to the blood pool and activate the formation there—then the Vampiric Blood-Sprite will be summoned back. No matter how strong that kid is, the Blood-Sprite will return.” After thinking for a moment, the other person gave Warren his instructions.
Warren was startled, then answered, “Alright, I’ll go right away.”
He left the area. Meanwhile, from the Transmission Stone came a dull, angry mutter: “Kid, you’ve ruined my plans too many times. Once I get out, I’ll deal with you myself! Damn it.”
If Evan were here, he’d be curious—what does ‘too many times’ mean? He barely even knows this person, apart from some enmity with Warren and this one direct confrontation.
But Evan had unknowingly ruined this person’s plans many times—he just didn’t realize it himself.
At this moment, Evan was wandering around the space. He found it mostly dark and quiet, except for one lively gorge.
He thought he wouldn’t find any clues—until something in his ring started moving.
Curious, Evan checked his ring and was shocked to see the Vampiric Blood-Sprite moving. Even though it was sealed, it could still move a little—rolling around in a small area, limited by the seal.
This was the first time Evan had seen something move while sealed. Surprised, he took the Blood-Sprite out.
He watched as it rolled off in a certain direction.