Queena White still held the Dragon God Pearl high, cradling Felix and his wife's child in her arms as she turned and led the crowd onward into the darkness.
The Dragon God Pearl cast a tranquil light, pushing back the darkness. They had to reach the way-station ahead as quickly as possible and seek shelter from the god residing there.
Beside the box, Bruno the Dragon-Qilin shook out his body, letting out a low growl. Quinn tossed a huge cauldron to Ben Coates, who glanced at the one-legged vessel and shook his head. "The cauldron’s broken. Its power’s crippled, probably can’t protect us now. Good thing I’ve got other treasures."
He stuffed the cauldron back into his Glutton Dragon Pouch and pulled out a large gourd, wrapping its strap around himself with a sly grin. "Quinn, this was my first-life spirit weapon—the Blueblood Gourd, my claim to fame. Haven’t used it in ages. I always hoped I could break through, fuse everything I’ve learned over the millennia, and reforge my Blueblood Gourd. But I’ve never managed to blend all those techniques together."
He slung the gourd onto his back. The gourd was over three feet tall, and with Ben’s missing legs, it made him look even more awkward and out of place.
"Grand Venerable, who’d have thought you once had such lofty ambitions?"
Quinn drew a knife-sheath from his Glutton Dragon Pouch, strapped it on, and slotted in two heavy butcher knives. "Too bad. When you realized you’d never become a god, you snapped and lost your way."
Ben eyed Quinn’s pouch and sneered. "You think you won’t snap if you can’t ascend? That Glutton Dragon Pouch should be mine!"
"I picked it up from the Golden Palace."
Quinn pulled out a massive iron hammer, swinging it lightly. The hammer rang out, its head splitting and expanding outward, spinning in a circle eight feet wide around the handle.
He stopped channeling power, and the hammer shrank back to its normal size.
Quinn hooked the hammer beside his knife-sheath with a leather strap to secure it, then pulled out a bamboo staff. He swung it gently, leaving a trail of afterimages, and tucked it onto his back as well.
Ben stared in disbelief as Quinn kept pulling out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, stuffing them into his sleeves, and then fixed several scrolls behind his back using extra straps from the knife-sheath. Ben couldn’t help but laugh. "Quinn, are you putting on a stage play? Your back’s about to be full!"
Quinn then pulled out his poison pouch and Sword Pill. The poison pouch held bottles of all sizes, while the Sword Pill broke apart into eight thousand flying swords, each one coated with poison. "Better safe than sorry. When I first left the Great Ruins, this was my setup. Looked rustic, sure, but it worked. Later, when I had a title, I stopped dressing so rough. But in a life-or-death fight, the more rustic, the stronger!"
Ben, inspired, pulled seven Transmission Flags from his Glutton Dragon Pouch and planted them behind himself. He then took out a bronze mirror, slipped its strap onto his left arm so it acted as a shield.
He pulled out a set of throwing knives, hanging them inside his coat so both sides were packed full.
Quinn blinked as Ben kept producing more gear—several sword cases, lined up by his feet, and a special blade ball weapon favored on the grasslands.
But Ben’s blade ball was no ordinary weapon—its quality far surpassed anything used by grassland warriors.
He also brought out a Taiji disk, a small Buddhist shrine with a Buddha idol inside, and finally a thick pillar covered in runes, flickering in and out of sight.
"Grand Venerable, your treasure trove really is something else."
Quinn praised, "The Imperial Preceptor and I have raided your Golden Palace more times than I can count, and you still have this many treasures left!"
Ben Coates sneered, "You’ve lived ten thousand years—your stash must be even bigger than mine! Heads up, incoming! Eyes open!"
His pupils flared with Buddhist radiance, activating the Heavenly Eye. Within that light, a Daoist eye appeared, forming a yin-yang Taiji diagram.
Ben peered into the darkness but could only make out vague, shifting figures—nothing clear.
"Open!" Quinn murmured, activating the Ninefold Heaven Eye Art.
Starlight burst in Quinn’s eyes, a blazing sun floating in the star river, then layer upon layer of branded formations appeared. Grandpa Blind had fused the Ninefold Heaven Eye Art with Lady Azure’s first divine eye from the Pioneer Era, making it even stronger and more versatile. But this divine eye burned more qi, so Quinn could only just manage to open the Skycrest Heaven Eye—five layers in total.
For daily use, he usually relied on the Crimson Firmament Heaven Eye.
But the darkness ahead was too thick—the Crimson Firmament Heaven Eye couldn’t see far enough, so this time he used the Skycrest Heaven Eye.
Bruno the Dragon-Qilin widened his eyes, trying to see, but saw nothing. "Chief, what do you see?"
Ben Coates couldn’t see much farther either, spotting only a dozen or so figures approaching in the darkness. "Quinn, it’s just ten-odd people, right?"
Quinn stared into the dark and nodded with a smile. "Just these dozen cultivators. Don’t worry."
Ben let out a sigh of relief and burst out laughing, "I thought I’d end up like Felix and his wife, dying here for a bunch of useless commoners. I’m not that noble! Looks like sticking with you is pure luck—I might just survive!"
Bruno snorted and chuckled, "Chief always turns disaster into fortune!"
Even the taotie box clapped its lid, letting out a booming laugh.
Quinn grinned too, reached out, and the box split apart and unfolded flat.
The box was made from taotie skin and bone—the frame formed the space, the hide stretched over it for the shell.
Now, as the box spread open, it created a safe zone a hundred zhang wide all around.
Standing within that protected space, bathed in the box’s divine light, they no longer had to fear the encroaching darkness.
Ben arranged his arsenal, while Bruno nervously eyed the racks inside the box, where all sorts of arms and legs were displayed like offerings. Ben waited until Quinn wasn’t looking, then slyly snatched two powerful legs and stashed them in his Glutton Dragon Pouch, hanging his own poison leg on the rack in their place.
Quinn pretended not to notice, looking ahead. Under the Skycrest Heaven Eye, he saw that behind the dozen approaching figures was an entire army—hundreds of outer-domain elites!
They stood quietly in place. At the front was a towering figure, mounted on a massive beast, calmly watching the dozen or so cultivators leading the charge.
These dozen cultivators were just a probe—a test of their strength.
Quinn kept what he saw to himself, taking a long breath. His Sword Pill slipped from his sleeve, rolled silently to the edge of the box, and burrowed into the earth. Underground, it split apart, sending tiny flying swords out in all directions, spreading beneath the hundred-zhang safe zone.
"Attack!"
Quinn shouted, drawing his two butcher knives. Twin blades flashed into his hands.
At that moment, the dozen enemy cultivators charged. Bruno roared, unleashing a pillar of blazing true-fire straight ahead. The fire exploded, but the attackers dodged, weaving through the flames to strike at Bruno.
Bruno swung his head, sweeping the fire pillar in all directions. One enemy clapped his hands to the ground, trying to raise the earth, but the box pressed it down, making it impossible to lift.
Another spun his saber, his technique exquisite—blade light whirled around the fire, splitting Bruno’s attack. Quinn matched him, moving back-to-back in tight steps.
That cultivator was just as fierce, knowing that in close-quarters Battle Skill School fighting, life and death were decided in an instant—by blade work and footwork.
The two spun like tops, blades flashing up and down. In a blink, the outcome was clear.
"Fine blade work!"
The man’s head flew off, vanishing into the dark, but as it fell, he managed a final compliment.
His severed head saw his own body collapse, while Quinn was struck in the chest by another attacker. Quinn’s body coiled like a dragon, his qi forming a dragon to bind the foe’s arm, while his two knives flashed, slashing again and again!
"Truly masterful blade work!"
The head praised him again, but then everything went dark—he could no longer see Quinn’s blades.
Thud.
His head hit the ground, rolled a few times, eyes wide. As his consciousness faded, he thought, "To die under such blade work..."
Ben’s blade ball floated up, and he struck almost in sync with Quinn. The blade ball spun, sending out countless slashing arcs along the ground. At the same time, blood erupted from the Blueblood Gourd, sweeping up an enemy who was dodging Ben’s leg-cutting blades.
The blood waterfall surged, packed with insects that devoured the foe in an instant!
Clang, clang, clang—one enemy stomped down Ben’s flying blades, forcing his way close. He raised his hand and unleashed divine thunder, raining it down like a storm.