"This kid got beaten up so badly—could he have run into some terrifying presence hiding aboard this ship?"
Ben Coates chased after him, still puzzled. "But didn't that terrifying presence already run off?"
When Star Lord Jonas escaped from the treasure ship, it caused a huge commotion. At that time, Ben Coates was searching the ship for his scattered followers in various rooms, while some waited on the deck. Just then, Star Lord Jonas burst out of the ship. By the time Ben reached the deck, those people had vanished—most likely swept into the Netherworld by the hurricane Jonas kicked up as he fled, never to return.
That was two months ago.
Since then, Ben Coates and his crew have looted nearly every room, hauling away anything valuable they could carry. Only the bridge remained off-limits—the Dragon-Qilin and the two White Bat Demons blocked the entrance, and no one could fight their way in.
There's only one door into the bridge, and to get inside you have to force your way through it. But the two White Bat Demons and the Dragon-Qilin aren't weak—they guard the door from behind, and even Witch Kings at the Life-and-Death realm can't break through. For days, Ben's crew tried a rotating assault, hoping to exhaust the defenders, but never got past them.
Ben Coates had just barged into that room when he immediately activated the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner. Swarms of Flying Locust Gu spun around his body, forming a protective shield.
Just then, a door closed behind him—Quinn Shepherd appeared at the threshold and shut the door.
Ben Coates rushed forward a dozen steps before turning, flashing a smile. "Cult Master Quinn, why'd you lure me in here? What's the game?"
The bruises and swelling on Quinn Shepherd's face clearly showed he'd been beaten badly. He said, disgruntled, "I've been getting thrashed nonstop these past two months—my confidence is shot. Bro, you know how it goes: fail enough times, keep failing, and your mind twists up. You get kinda... warped."
Ben Coates was startled. "Who could possibly beat Cult Master Quinn up like this? Now I'm curious—besides me, is there really someone out there who can keep beating Quinn until he feels defeated? Could it be a Seven Stars Treasury expert?"
Quinn Shepherd touched his battered face. "He was only using Six Directions realm cultivation."
Ben Coates was even more shocked, exhaling heavily. "That's some real skill."
Quinn Shepherd said earnestly, "So, bro, I could only come find you during my breaks. If you don't want my mind to get twisted and warped, let me beat you up a bit to blow off steam—how about it?"
Ben Coates lowered his brows, glancing at his hand gripping the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner, and chuckled. "Cult Master Quinn, I never fight battles I can't win. If I can't win, I play dirty. But when I saw you sneakily waving me over, I came running right away. Know why?"
He looked up, smiling with pride. "I've been grinding hard these past two months—I'm way stronger than before. You know I'm the Grand Venerable of Loulan Golden Palace and I've reincarnated eighteen times. Two months of my training is worth two years of yours! I didn't chase you down to hear you babble or get beaten up—I'm here to kill you!"
Fury blazing, his black hair bristling, Ben Coates swung the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner at Quinn and roared, "Beat you to death! Hand over that Silver Plume Nav-Helm and I'll make your end quick!"
Ding ding ding ding—
Flying Locust Gu collided with sword rain—golden locust wings sliced like blades, while Quinn's flying swords were heavy and powerful. Sparks flew everywhere in the room as the two forces clashed in an instant.
Amid sword-light and locust swarms, Ben Coates slammed the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner into the floor, darting left and right through the chaos, closing in on Quinn Shepherd.
Quinn Shepherd's footwork shifted unpredictably as he darted through sword rain and locust swarms, closing in fast.
The room wasn't large, and with flying locusts and swords clashing everywhere, one wrong move could mean a stab wound—or even death.
Both Quinn and Ben had spent recent days refining their divine arts to make them more precise and miniature. In this tight space, their flying swords and locusts were shrunk down—swords barely three inches long, locusts no bigger than a finger.
But the smaller they got, the deadlier it became—threading through each other's sword rain and locust swarms demanded razor-sharp eyes and split-second judgment.
A split second later, they collided—fists and palms met, power exploded, and a crisp thunderclap rang out in the room.
Ben Coates grinned. "With my current cultivation... damn!"
He grunted, feeling Quinn's terrifying strength. Ben had trained nonstop, convinced he'd have a crushing advantage—but even without going all out, Quinn actually had a slight edge!
How was that possible?
Is this kid a reincarnator too?
But then he realized something was off. Quinn wasn't overpowering him with raw cultivation—his vital energy had grown more refined and pure, his technique sharper, and his body much tougher.
In other words, Quinn Shepherd could use less vital energy to unleash much greater power in his divine arts. His technique was more refined—when he missed, almost no energy leaked out, but when he hit, the impact was explosive!
Both Ben Coates and Quinn had entered that mysterious corridor together, glimpsing the divine marks and weapon imprints on the walls, but they only skimmed through, never studying them deeply.
Now, though, Quinn had surpassed Ben in this art.
"This is bad!"
Ben's mind went blank—he instantly sensed trouble. Quinn's cultivation had improved, his vital energy was purer, and he used less power for more effect. With his body stronger too, it was clear Quinn's combat power and endurance now outstripped his.
Even if the gap was tiny, just a sliver was enough to win!
Short term, he'd be fine—but drag it out, and he'd be in real trouble.
Sure enough, as the two unleashed their big moves—eight thousand swords versus the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner—their vital energy drained rapidly. The number of swords and locusts they could control dropped fast.
Quinn Shepherd's body, though, was still going strong. His attacks were broad and crushing—each punch and kick could split mountains and shatter stone, forcing Ben Coates to retreat again and again.
This chapter isn't over yet~.~ Click next page to keep reading!
Suddenly, Ben Coates slammed backward, bursting through a door and rolling into the next room. He tried to slam the door shut, but before he could, a huge force crashed into him, sending him flying—smack!—against the far wall.
All I have to do is hold out until my men find me. Once they get here, this kid is dead for sure!
Ben Coates stayed calm. Over the past two months, while searching the treasure ship and the mysterious corridor, he'd even taught a few Witch Kings how to calculate spatial harmonics.
Those Witch Kings would definitely track him down!
Of course, those Witch Kings weren't as clever or skilled as he was, so it'd take them some time. All he had to do was hold on until they arrived.
Quinn Shepherd charged in, pressing the attack up close. This time, both used even fewer flying swords and locusts—Quinn controlled nine tiny swords that darted around him like finger-sized flying fish, while Ben's nine golden locusts buzzed in tight formation.
Even with their vital energy nearly drained, their attacks were still fierce—at such close range, one mistake could mean instant death.
Ben Coates fought carefully, but his strength burned out too fast—finally, he ran dry.
Quinn Shepherd was out of energy too, but his body was still like a rampaging bull. Ben barely blocked a dozen blows before his guard broke, and he was beaten black and blue in an instant.
Quinn pinned him to the floor, pummeling away. Ben's eyes were so swollen he couldn't open them. He shouted, "Nice hit! Come on, do it again if you dare!"
Quinn landed two more punches, but just then he heard a door open in the neighboring cabin. Instantly on guard, he stopped.
Ben Coates yelled, "Come on, hit me again!"
Quinn picked up his flying swords, turned to leave, and grinned, "Brother, I’m satisfied—I'll come beat you up again another day. Oh, and by the way, I took the Glutton Dragon Pouch from your waist!"
Ben’s heart lurched; he grabbed at his waist, suddenly feeling a chill.
The Glutton Dragon Pouch that had hung at his side had vanished without a trace!
When had Quinn taken his Glutton Dragon Pouch? He hadn't noticed at all!
My sleight of hand is still a bit worse than Crippled Joe’s. If he’d done it, Ben wouldn’t even notice if his underpants were gone.
Quinn tossed the Glutton Dragon Pouch, sighing to himself—Crippled Joe’s skills were truly unmatched.
"Kill him!" Ben’s voice rang out as the Witch Kings finally arrived in the room.
Quinn smiled, shut the door behind him, and entered the first cabin. He picked up the scattered flying swords and stowed them in the Glutton Dragon Pouch, then packed away the Ten-Thousand Locust Banner.
He opened Ben’s Glutton Dragon Pouch and frowned slightly; inside were only ship treasures—incense burners, tea tables, candlesticks, and the like. The books from the study weren’t among them; Ben must have hidden those elsewhere.
What exactly do those books on the shelves record? Divine arts? Or something else...
Quinn tied both Glutton Dragon Pouches to his waist and returned to the study, thinking, "Next time I beat him, I’ll make sure to ask where he hid those books."
Ben struggled out of the cabin and onto the deck. Seeing the Witch Kings’ strange looks, he understood—they’d seen him beaten by Quinn, and their respect for him was fading.
Ben said coolly, "Cult Master Quinn didn’t get off easy either—I seriously injured him. Now that I know his true name, once I recover, I’ll kill him with sorcery!"
After regaining his cultivation, Ben immediately began his sorcery. Strangely, even though he knew Quinn’s true name, he couldn’t locate him—as if Quinn had vanished from the world.
Ben tried again, but his witchcraft still couldn’t find Quinn.
Impossible! He’s clearly still on the ship, but my sorcery can’t sense him. Is he hiding in some secret space that blocks my witch-sense?
Quinn returned to the painting. The Old Man in the Painting continued sparring with him; though Quinn kept losing, he lasted longer each time.
Time passed unknowingly. One day, the divine ark suddenly shuddered violently—even inside the painting world, Quinn could feel it.
The Old Man in the Painting appeared, anxious, and called Quinn out. Quinn quickly followed him out of the painting and raced to the deck.
In the distance, countless Netherworld creatures surged toward the ship, which was accelerating away.
The Old Man in the Painting stood in the doorway, waving goodbye to Quinn.
Quinn stood dazed. Was it time to part ways again?