Crow Immortal: I Can Duplicate Infinite Resources

Chapter 237: Blue Light Breaks the Restriction

A sea of blood rolled across the sky, turning the world crimson.

Although the scene before him was just an ordinary sunset, what flashed through Zuo Lingyue’s mind was the nightmare of that day on Crouching Dragon Cliff.

The Sect Leader had broken through. He had reached the Nascent Soul realm—but in doing so, he had devoured almost the entire Spirit Beast Sect.

Zuo Lingyue had survived only by chance. He had been returning from the Ten Thousand Beasts Market that day, and his bonded spirit beast, a pangolin, was adept at burrowing and hiding. They had escaped the initial slaughter by vanishing into the earth.

After fleeing, he wandered aimlessly until he found markers left by other survivors. Hoping for safety in numbers, he followed them—only to walk straight into the arms of the Saint Blood Perfected One, the very demon who had corrupted their sect.

Having already practiced the Blood Refining Demonic Art, Zuo Lingyue cursed his luck but submitted to the demon to survive. Saint Blood took control of his heart’s blood and dispatched him here, to the Nanli Kingdom, under the nose of Wanchun Valley.

Now, cursing was useless. Cursing Sect Leader Song Wanxiong, Wanchun Valley, or Ye Guxing changed nothing.

He had given up on longevity. He lived in a haze, a demonic cultivator eating people one day at a time. His only purpose was to fulfill his mission: lure Wanchun Valley disciples to their deaths.

As he brooded, the earth beneath his feet trembled. A slender, bright red snout poked out of the dirt.

“What is it?”

Delicious food! Delicious food is coming!

The pangolin quivered with excitement, transmitting its eagerness through their bond.

“You glutton. Don’t you eat people every day?” Zuo Lingyue laughed, scolding it gently. “Have I ever let you starve?”

This one is different! Really delicious! I can smell it!

The beast rolled in the dirt, frantic. Master, you’ll know when you see it!

Curiosity stirred in Zuo Lingyue’s deadened heart. If his beast was this agitated, the prey must be special.

“Fine. We’ll have a proper feast tonight. Lead the way!”

The ten-foot-long pangolin burst from the soil, its dark scales gleaming cold and hard, its eyes glowing blood-red. Zuo Lingyue leaped onto its back, his matted red hair whipping in the wind.

With a twitch of its nose, the beast scrambled forward on all fours, racing toward the scent with manic speed.

At first, Zuo Lingyue just found it amusing. But as they closed the distance, a faint, clear fragrance drifted to him.

His mind went blank.

Like a starving man smelling white rice, reason evaporated. All that remained was hunger.

I must eat it.

I want it. Delicious. Can’t resist…

Saliva drooled from his mouth. His eyes burned with red heat, and his voice scraped out of his throat, hoarse and inhuman.

“Go! Go eat! Faster!”

Faster! Faster!

The pangolin tore up the earth, sprinting desperately toward the source of the scent.

In moments, they covered a mile and burst into a clearing. Two figures stood there: a nondescript man and a short woman holding a spiked mace.

The intoxicating fragrance was coming entirely from the man.

Zuo Lingyue and the pangolin roared in unison, a sound of pure bestial hunger, and charged.

Yan San looked at Han Yu with surprise. “Eh? We just left the city and they’re already delivering themselves to us?”

“I didn’t call them,” Han Yu said quietly. “They came on their own.”

He didn’t waste breath on banter. This was his first life-and-death battle against a Foundation Establishment enemy. He didn’t know their strength, so he prepared for the worst.

Some of his trump cards—the Object Explosion Technique artifacts, the crow formation, his demonic arts—were too sensitive to reveal in front of the Sect Leader and Yan San.

But the Star Luo Thread was safe. The threads were invisible and formless; unless one was a Myriad Phenomena Sect disciple, they were undetectable. Since Yan San clearly wasn’t one of them, he could use them freely and invent an excuse later if needed.

He kept a Talisman Treasure capable of blocking an Early Golden Core attack and the Green Wood Thunder Pill ready in his robes, just in case.

Han Yu gripped his flying sword. His figure blurred, splitting into multiple phantom clones.

Two Thunder Lightning Talismans activated first, striking from the left and right. His flying sword followed instantly, trailing a comet’s tail of sharp sword intent.

Simultaneously, the invisible Star Luo Threads surged forward like silent ghosts, aiming to impale the enemy.

Yan San had been watching with a grin, her mace resting casually in one hand. But as Han Yu unleashed his attacks, the green mark on her forehead pulsed, and her smile faded.

What… is this guy?

Is he even human?

Phantom clones that were nearly indistinguishable from reality—that was a signature of the Saint Lotus Sect, one of the three great demonic sects of the Central Heaven Domain.

A flying sword imbued with condensed soul intent—that was the hallmark of the Mystic Sword Sect’s elite.

And those invisible, tangible threads—that was the guarded secret of the Myriad Phenomena Sect.

Three supreme techniques from three different major powers, all converging on a single disciple from a backwater sect in the Southern Region?

How did this ‘Li Ya’ learn them? The threads alone were impossible to master without direct transmission.

Yan San didn’t even bother looking at the charging enemies.

Zuo Lingyue and his beast were Foundation Establishment, yes, but their foundations were shallow and their minds were lost to bloodlust. Against someone wielding three supreme arts, they didn’t stand a chance.

Yan San suddenly felt that finding the so-called “Demon Star” was irrelevant. The man in front of her was far more terrifying than the rumored Han Yu. If anyone fit the title of Demon Star, it was him.

While Yan San’s thoughts raced, the battle ended in a heartbeat.

The demonic cultivator, hair wild and eyes mad, charged like a rabid beast. His pangolin mirrored him, roaring low in its throat as they pounced together.

CRACK!

Two dazzling bolts of lightning slammed into them before they could close the distance. The impact convulsed their bodies, shattering their momentum.

Before they could recover, Han Yu’s flying sword arrived. It pierced Zuo Lingyue’s chest like a needle through paper. A surge of Spiritual Power detonated inside him, shredding his upper body into a gruesome rain of flesh and blood.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

Two of Han Yu’s Star Luo Threads hovered defensively before him, while the remaining seven struck like vipers.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

The threads punched through the pangolin and the remains of Zuo Lingyue’s lower body, nailing them to the earth.

The pangolin let out a strange, mournful cry—almost sounding like human speech—before collapsing dead beside its master.

Is it over? Just like that?

Han Yu frowned, unconvinced. He used the threads to lift the corpses, shaking them and piercing them again to ensure death.

“What are you doing?” Yan San asked, bewildered. “They’re already dead.”

“Are they?” Han Yu muttered. “Better to be safe.”

He formed a hand seal. “Blazing Flame Technique.”

A sheet of scorching fire engulfed the remains, reducing man and beast to ash.

Yan San facepalmed. “Brother Li… isn’t that excessive?”

“You went all out from the start. Against ordinary demonic cultivators like them, of course they couldn’t withstand it.”

“Demonic cultivators are only scary in the Qi Refining stage,” she explained. “Once they hit Foundation Establishment, their combat power lags behind orthodox cultivators. Their only advantage is that they’re hard to kill.”

“Exactly,” Han Yu said, watching the fire. “Hard to kill means I burn them twice.”

Satisfied that only ash remained, he used a thread to retrieve the enemy’s Storage Bag.

“You really are cautious,” Yan San remarked, eyeing the pile of ash. “No wonder you use a puppet to meet people. By the way, what did that pangolin say before it died?”

“Who knows?” Han Yu shrugged, examining the bag. “This Storage Bag is blood-bound. Opening it will be troublesome.”

“Give it here,” Yan San said, holding out a hand. “I’ll open it.”

Han Yu looked at her skeptically.

She tapped the green mark on her forehead. “Do you know what this is? It’s the ultimate lockpick.”

“Come on.”

Han Yu handed over the bag. A faint green light projected from Yan San’s forehead, washing over the pouch. The bag trembled as if nauseous, then—clatter—vomited its entire contents onto the ground.

The spiritual light on the bag faded instantly, turning it into a mundane sack.