Stepping out of the Hundred Herb Pavilion, Han Yu saw no sign of Sun Kang or Liu Lan. Since he still had ten Spirit Stones in hand, he decided to check the nearby “Spirit Art Pavilion” for any suitable cultivation techniques.

Inside, the shop assistant was distracted by the commotion outside, where the crowd buzzed over the “Top Ten Predictions for Inner and Outer Disciples.” His responses were sporadic and half-hearted, barely acknowledging Han Yu’s presence.

After a few questions, Han Yu discovered that even minor offensive spells cost over twenty Spirit Stones. Basic utility arts like the Wind Control Technique and Water Control Technique were priced at ten stones each.

So the spells the sect provides for free are actually this valuable… Han Yu mused. No wonder Rogue Cultivators are desperate to join. Even being a lowly Laborer Disciple is far better than living as a rootless wanderer.

From this perspective, the Wanchun Valley entry Keepsake Token was indeed exceptionally precious.

Since he couldn’t afford anything useful, Han Yu turned to leave. Just as he reached the threshold, a hand patted his shoulder.

Startled, Han Yu turned to see a man with bloodshot eyes. The stranger sneered coldly as he brushed past, leaving a faint, metallic stench of blood in the air.

Huh? Signs of the Blood Refining Technique?

A disciple of the Demon Blood Sect?

Before Han Yu could take a closer look, the Demonic Cultivator slipped into the surging crowd, vanishing instantly.

Did he target me by chance? Or did he sense that I practice the Blood Refining Technique too?

Han Yu’s heart grew heavy. He glanced at his shoulder where the man had touched him but saw nothing unusual.

With Sun Kang and Liu Lan still missing, Han Yu made a decision. He hurried to the mortal Reed Mat Area and purchased a set of grey clothes identical to his uniform and a set of plain black clothes. Finding a secluded corner, he quickly changed into the black outfit and discarded his grey laborer robes.

This should break the trail—

He had barely walked a hundred paces when the same man with bloodshot eyes reappeared. The stranger flashed him another cold, sneering grin before melting back into the crowd.

Han Yu’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach.

Face hardening, he abandoned waiting for his friends and power-walked toward the market exit.

If a Demonic Cultivator was truly hunting him, Sun Kang and Liu Lan would be useless—liabilities, even. It was better to use the distraction of the “Top Ten Predictions” to slip away alone. Even if he couldn’t shake the tail, fighting outside the market would allow him to use his trump cards without witnesses.

He hurried past the Reed Mat Area, noting the horse-faced vendor still selling flower cakes at the far end.

Exiting the Green Grain Market, Han Yu paused by the two large trees flanking the gate. A quick glance behind revealed no immediate pursuers.

But his gut screamed danger. The enemy hadn’t given up; he was definitely watching.

Please, no complications. Please, don’t follow me…

Han Yu had never fought a life-and-death battle with another cultivator. He had no idea what methods they might possess. His heart drummed against his ribs.

He walked briskly until he reached the nearest dense forest. Suddenly, a large crow descended from the canopy and landed on his shoulder.

Han Yu looked up. The surrounding trees were filled not just with small crows, but over a dozen large ones, their feathers glossy and eyes gleaming with intelligence.

A wave of relief washed over him.

He whispered instructions to the lead crow. It let out a sharp caw and took flight, signaling the flock to hide among the leaves. Han Yu gripped a Wind Blade Talisman and waited in the silence.

Barely a dozen breaths later, a streak of dark red light shot from the forest behind him.

The Demon Blood Sect cultivator followed!

Han Yu recognized the dark red light immediately—it was a spell of the Blood Refining Technique. Unlike a Blood Droplet, this was a fist-sized mass of filth, its composition indiscernible.

He instantly activated the Wind Blade Talisman. A cyan arc of wind erupted, slicing cleanly through the incoming projectile.

The red light split and fell to the ground—a bloody human heart, cleaved in two.

“Hehehe… a Wind Blade Talisman! How many of those can a Laborer Disciple afford? One? Two?”

The bloodshot-eyed cultivator stepped out from behind a tree, his expression ferocious.

“Once you run out of talismans, you’re dead!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… It’s been ages since I smelled such fresh, tender, abundant Blood Essence… Did you fatten yourself up just for me?”

Han Yu finally understood.

His Breath Concealment Technique hid his cultivation, and since his Blood Talisman hadn’t reformed, he didn’t radiate demonic energy. But his Blood Essence was potent and abundant. To the Demonic Cultivator, he looked like a weak, defenseless, and incredibly nutritious snack.

Despite the taunts, the enemy remained partially hidden behind a tree, wary of any hidden traps.

Han Yu turned and fled without hesitation.

The Demonic Cultivator paused, realizing his prey truly had no other tricks. Remembering that Laborer Disciples rarely possessed offensive spells, greed overcame caution.

He grabbed another bloody heart from his Storage Bag, shouted “Go!”, and sent it flying as a streak of crimson light toward Han Yu’s back. Simultaneously, he leaped from cover, chasing like a ghost.

He had taken only two steps when the wind shrieked.

Two faint cyan glints plummeted from the canopy like lightning.

Ambush!

Panic surged in the Demonic Cultivator’s chest. He threw himself into a roll, narrowly dodging the first wind blade.

But the second was unavoidable. It trailed him like a shadow, slashing down with vicious speed.

Squelch.

Agony exploded in his arm. Blood sprayed as the limb was severed clean off.

If he had been a fraction slower, the blade would have entered his armpit and cleaved his chest open.

What is happening?!

Terrified and confused, the Demonic Cultivator looked up. Perched in the trees were dozens of crows. Their dark golden eyes shone with an eerie, mocking light, staring fixedly at him.

“What… what is this?” he screamed, clutching his stump.

Without his control, the flying heart spell lost momentum and smacked harmlessly into a tree trunk, exploding into a puddle of gore.

Han Yu stopped running. He turned around, eyes cold with resolve.

Six drops of Blood Essence materialized before him.

Go.

Six Blood Droplets, capable of cracking stone, shot toward the one-armed cultivator in unison.

The Demonic Cultivator’s eyes bulged. A fellow disciple? Blood Refining Technique?

Is this… a misunderstanding?

Before he could speak, a tremor shook the back of his skull.

Thwack.

A bloody hole punched through the center of his forehead.

It was another Blood Droplet—one that had struck from behind, killing him instantly.

Darkness claimed him before he could finish his final thought: Wait, who else is killing me?

Han Yu’s six Blood Droplets arrived a moment too late, hovering before the corpse.

Han Yu froze. He kept his droplets suspended, staring intently at the forest behind the dead man.

He hadn’t killed him.

Someone else’s Blood Droplet had done the deed.

Slowly, a horse-faced middle-aged man walked out from the shadows, carrying a tray of flower cakes.

“Little Brat, it’s been a while.”