Even if Ji Shuguang hadn’t issued the order, the cultivators of Maple Leaf Market would have mobilized anyway. Caution was the first rule of survival.

Leaving two Foundation Establishment experts to guard the Ye Family home base and the injured Gu Liyong to recuperate, the remaining seven experts followed Ji Shuguang, racing toward the Si Family’s territory to provide support.

But at Giant Wood Peak, the sky was already ablaze.

A yellow flying boat burst from the summit, tearing through the smoke and shooting toward the high heavens.

Close behind it, a streak of cyan light pursued with terrifying speed.

Standing at the stern of the fleeing yellow boat, Si Zhijie gritted his teeth and hurled a small, verdant sphere back at his pursuer, Lei Liheng.

Lei Liheng’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t slow down, simply flicking his wrist to send a spinning flying wheel to intercept the projectile.

Clang!

With a crisp metallic ring, the wheel sliced through the green sphere.

Pop!

The sphere detonated instantly, releasing a massive cloud of viridian mist that expanded explosively, engulfing everything within a thousand-foot radius.

“Damn it! Poison!”

Lei Liheng cursed and slammed on the brakes, retreating frantically to avoid the toxic cloud. By the time the mist dissipated, the yellow flying boat was nothing but a speck on the horizon.

Lei Liheng hovered in mid-air, his expression frigid.

They had won the battle, yes. But the cost was unacceptable. Eight of his clansmen were dead or maimed. Even worse, the Foundation Establishment elder Lei Xingbing had suffered grievous injuries to his dantian. Though he had survived, his foundation was shattered; his path of cultivation had come to an abrupt, tragic end.

Lei Liheng descended to the ruined peak. The cultivators from the Zhao and Cheng families gathered around him immediately. They, too, had lost people, but the Si Family had concentrated their malice specifically on the Lei clan. The allies had only lost a few Qi Refining juniors, while their Foundation Establishment leaders had merely been delayed by formations, escaping unharmed.

Seeing the murderous gloom on Lei Liheng’s face, no one dared to speak. The Lei Family was supposed to be the strongest of the trio, the leader of the Green Bull coalition. Now, with one of their top experts crippled, the balance of power had shifted in unpredictable ways.

Lei Liheng ground his teeth, his hatred for Si Zhijie burning hotter than the fires consuming the mountain. Why did he have to target my family so specifically?

He had calculated that with two Spirit Mountains and two leaders, the Si Family would split their forces. He assumed the Patriarch would be at the alliance meeting at Double Dragon Mountain. Attacking Giant Wood Peak was supposed to be a walk in the park—a chance to preserve his strength while the Wang and Li families chewed on the hard bones elsewhere.

Instead, his cleverness had backfired. He had lifted a rock only to drop it on his own foot.

“Everyone,” Lei Liheng sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “Si Zhijie has escaped. The other families in Maple Leaf Market will receive news of this shortly. We must inform Fellow Daoist Wang and the others. We retreat to Green Bull Market immediately.”

The Lei Family expedition force had started with twelve cultivators. Six were dead. Two were crippled. Staying here any longer was suicide.

Zhao Gaofang frowned, scanning the burning structures of the peak. “What about the resources? We’ve suffered such heavy losses; we can’t leave empty-handed!”

“Si Zhijie is a scheming rat. He would have packed up anything valuable days ago,” Lei Liheng replied bitterly. “What’s left are likely just spirit herbs or trees that are difficult to transplant. Harvesting them takes time we don’t have. If you want them, send your people, but I can only give you fifteen minutes. Every second we linger is another step toward the grave.”

Inwardly, Lei Liheng had to give the enemy credit. For two Foundation Establishment cultivators to ambush six and escape with their lives required balls of steel. The Lei Family had taken a heavy blow, while the Si Family had escaped relatively intact—losing a dozen expendable juniors and sustaining some injuries, but keeping their core strength alive.

Si Zhijie had achieved his strategic goal: he had drawn blood, crippled an enemy commander, and escaped to claim credit from the Burning Heaven Sect. When the war ended and spoils were divided, the Si Family would have a strong case for a bigger share.

Zhao Gaofang nodded helplessly. He drew his flying sword and began hacking at a nearby Spirit Tree. Fifteen minutes was enough for a cultivator to strip a significant amount of wealth, provided they weren’t worried about preserving the roots.

The others joined in, their movements rough and violent. They smashed buildings and slashed at plants, venting their fear and frustration on the landscape itself.

Meanwhile, in a secluded valley some distance away.

Wang Hao and his group were huddled together, resting. Their expressions were taut with tension. Every few seconds, eyes would dart toward the horizon, scanning for pursuit.

Their retreat route forced them to backtrack through the Gu Family’s territory. The alternative was to pass near the Ye Family stronghold, where the bulk of the Maple Leaf Market’s forces were currently massing. That would be suicide.

But as the saying goes, fear attracts the wolf.

Wang Hao’s face suddenly stiffened. “Alert! Someone is coming.”

His Divine Consciousness, far potent than his cultivation level suggested, had picked up the signal long before Li Yaozu or Wang Longyou.

The mood in the depression plummeted. The cultivators drew their Magical Artifacts silently. Li Derong produced a shimmering, net-like artifact. Infusing it with spiritual power, he tossed it into the air.

The net expanded to over thirty feet, settling over the group and vanishing from sight.

The Spirit-Concealing Net. It dampened and camouflaged the spiritual fluctuations of everyone beneath it.

Moments later, a streak of yellow light appeared on the horizon, approaching rapidly.

It was the Si Family’s flying boat. On deck were sixteen Qi Refining disciples and two Foundation Establishment elders—Si Zhijie and his remaining lieutenant.

The Si Family was an oddity in the local cultivation world. Their rise had been meteoric, occurring only in the last two hundred years. Si Zhijie’s father, Si Ji, had started as a loose cultivator. through defied logic and luck, he broke through to Foundation Establishment, helped the Burning Heaven Sect recover a lost treasure, and was rewarded with a Spirit Mountain.

To populate his new clan, Si Ji employed a strategy that was as effective as it was scandalous. He took over three hundred concubines. Such excess would drain even a cultivator’s essence, damaging their foundation and shortening their lifespan, but Si Ji didn’t care.

Quantity was his quality. He sired over forty children with Spiritual Roots.

He didn’t stop there. He ordered his mortal sons to marry and reproduce with the same reckless abandon.

His most infamous move, however, was establishing brothels run by his mortal daughters and granddaughters. Their purpose wasn’t just gold—it was genetics. They catered to loose cultivators, engaging in the business of “borrowing seeds.”

Si Ji’s philosophy was simple: as long as the mother carried a drop of his blood, the child was a Si. It didn’t matter who the father was. If a wandering cultivator left a child behind, that child belonged to the clan.

As a result, nearly half of the Si Family’s current cultivation force had been born in brothels. “Many hands make light work” was the family motto. While the bloodline was diluted and the resulting talent uneven, the sheer numbers gave them an edge other families couldn’t match.

Si Zhijie was a product of this system.

He secured the position of Patriarch not just because of his Dual Spiritual Roots, but because he had the unwavering support of the “brothel faction” within the clan.

Si Zhijie was shrewd, manipulative, and utterly pragmatic. He had charmed his father while alive and ruthlessly consolidated power after his death.

It was precisely this scheming nature that had led to his defeat today. He had tried to outsmart Lei Liheng, a peak Foundation Establishment veteran, and had been forced to learn a harsh lesson in absolute power. Realizing he couldn’t win, he had detonated his trap and abandoned his slower clansmen without hesitation to save the elite core.

Now, his mind was working again. Instead of fleeing to the safety of the Ye Family, he had doubled back to the Gu Family’s territory.

He reasoned that Ji Shuguang surely knew about the attack by now and would be mobilizing to blockade the border. The Si Family had done their part; they had bled for the alliance. Now, it was time to preserve strength.

More importantly, he wanted to scavenge. The Gu Family had been wiped out, but a hasty loot by the invaders might have missed things. The Si Family, with its scavenger roots, wasted nothing. If he found any surviving Gu family members? He would silence them. Everyone would blame the Green Bull invaders anyway.

“It looks like the Si Family,” Wang Hao whispered, watching the yellow boat descend toward a nearby ridge. “Two Foundation Establishment, sixteen Qi Refining.”