“Our preparations for the Pill Cauldron Sect were woefully inadequate,” Wang Hao murmured, staring at the crater exit. “The clan fell into distress because of my greed. When I saw that golden entrance… I lost my head.”

He smiled bitterly. In the face of a Nascent Soul inheritance, who could truly resist?

“Don’t blame yourself,” Ji Xiaotang said softly, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Even with my ancestral maps, we were blindsided. Who could have known this ruin was a breeding ground for so many Beast Kings? We should find our people, leave, and cut our losses. The treasures will still be here next time.”

Wang Hao nodded, his expression hardening into frost. “Agreed. But before we leave, we have one final task.”

He looked at her, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy. “The Qi and Qin families must be exterminated.”

The existence of this ruin wasn’t a total secret. When the sect fell, refugees scattered across the seas, carrying fragments of knowledge. Most lineages had died out in the river of history, but four Golden Core clans—Huang, Ji, Qi, and Qin—had tracked the location down centuries ago.

They had squabbled over profit distribution for decades. Eventually, the alliance shattered; the Ji, Qi, and Qin clans united to butcher the Huang family. But the victory was hollow—the Huang patriarch died with the entry token, locking them all out.

Only recently had the Qi family successfully forged a replica, allowing them to finally breach the barrier.

But the alliance was already rotting. Qin Hu had attacked the Wang family. Qi Li had deliberately lured the beast tide toward Wang Hao, nearly killing him.

Even without the personal vendetta, secrecy was paramount. If news of the Pill Cauldron Sect’s location leaked, it wouldn’t be an opportunity for the Wang family—it would be an extinction-level event.

The loose ends had to be cut.

Ji Xiaotang didn’t hesitate. Her alliance with the other two families was purely transactional. If they died, the Ji family’s share of the pie would triple.

“The Golden Core ancestors won’t be a problem,” she reasoned aloud. “When we purged the Huang family, it was a pyrrhic victory—’killing a thousand enemies to lose eight hundred.’ The ancestors are still recovering from old wounds, and their Foundation Establishment pillars have dwindled to single digits.”

She did the math quickly. “In this expedition alone, the Qi and Qin clans lost two Foundation Establishment elders and thirty elites each. They are crippled. If I don’t finish them off, I’d be insulting my ancestors.”

She paused, a thought striking her. “Wait. We left some clan members outside to guard the entrance. Did you…?”

She trailed off, eyeing Wang Hao suspiciously. If he had silenced her external guards to protect the secret, things would get awkward.

“Relax,” Wang Hao said. “I had a clan uncle detain them. They’re alive.”

Ji Xiaotang let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Good. If we lost the external team too, the damage to the family would be catastrophic.”

They secured the cavern before leaving, setting up hidden arrays at the choke point. The natural barrier stopped beasts, but humans were crafty; if a rival cultivator stumbled in here and damaged the Spirit Vein or the formation eye, the island might sink forever.

Precautions set, they flew out of the core zone.

Ten days had passed in the real world. The beast tide had subsided, leaving an eerie silence over the ruins. Still, Wang Hao didn’t dare fly on his sword. They moved on foot, utilizing the explosive speed of Foundation Establishment cultivators to blur across the landscape.

They split up to recover their respective clansmen, coordinating via communication talismans.

Two hours later, Wang Hao located his group huddled in a concealed ravine.

He suppressed his aura before approaching. Showing up as a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator after only ten days would raise too many questions. He needed them to underestimate him—and he needed to ambush the other families.

The good news: most of them were alive. The White Bear King had focused on the high-value targets, ignoring the small fry.

The bad news: Wang Yanlang was missing.

“I saw him last,” Wang Yanping reported, his voice heavy. “Two Second-Tier beasts were chasing him. We… we couldn’t go back.”

Wang Hao closed his eyes. Not everyone had a stack of high-grade talismans to burn like kindling.

“Life and death are fated,” Wang Yanfeng said softly, breaking the gloomy silence. “Yanlang might be hiding. We can’t lose hope yet. But we need a plan.”

All eyes turned to Wang Hao. Despite his youth, he was the de facto leader.

“We leave,” Wang Hao said grimly. “The ruins are too dangerous. Get to the exit immediately.”

“Us?” Wang Wenmei caught the distinction. “Fifth Brother, you’re staying?”

Li Derong stepped forward, frowning. “Let’s go together. We’ve gained enough. The beasts are on high alert now; we’ve nearly been spotted three times today. Don’t push your luck.”

“Don’t try to persuade me,” Wang Hao said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There is something I must do. It concerns my Dao path, and the future of everyone here.”

He was going for the Gold Essence Fruit.

This fruit was exceedingly rare, a treasure even Nascent Soul sects coveted. It was a core ingredient for aiding Golden Core formation.

Logically, he should wait fifty years for the next opening. But fifty years was a lifetime. Variables could change. Beasts could destroy the tree. He couldn’t afford to “wait in vain.”

Moreover, he needed the seeds now. Even with his magical farm, the trees would take decades to mature. He didn’t want to be waiting until he was 110 years old to harvest his first batch.

Plus, there were three mature fruits on the tree right now. Securing them meant giving Ji Xiaotang and the Old Ancestor a real shot at the Golden Core.

“One more thing,” Wang Hao added, a cruel smile touching his lips. “We are going to wipe out the Qi and Qin families. If they leave this island, our secret dies with us. Go to the exit and hold the line. They have plenty of loot on them—consider it compensation for our troubles.”

“Wait,” Li Derong asked, puzzled. “Weren’t there three families? The clothes are distinct.”

Wang Hao cleared his throat, spinning a lie on the spot. “I ran into the Ji family’s elders. We formed a blood alliance. They’re trustworthy. Besides, their low-level disciples were mostly wiped out in the initial wave.”

Li Derong stared at him. She wasn’t stupid; a “blood alliance” formed in ten days was suspicious at best. Wang Hao must have cut a side deal with the Ji family, likely involving leverage or secrets.

But Wang Hao had protected the Li family for years. She wouldn’t question him now.

“Take care,” she said simply. Then she turned and led the group toward the exit.