On the road back to Ding-Eighty-Seven Manor, Tao Yi’s words echoed relentlessly in Wang Ba’s mind.

The revelation struck him with the force of a physical blow: the city that had been slaughtered to the last man—all one hundred and twenty thousand souls—was the exact location he had chosen for his sanctuary after fleeing the Sect.

A cold sweat slicked his back. He felt a wave of profound powerlessness, yet beneath it lay a shivering sense of relief.

Fate had played a cruel joke that saved his life. Because the Sect had been swarming with Qi Refining disciples these past few days, his escape plan had been delayed. If he had managed to slip away as intended, he would likely be a desiccated corpse right now, dead for no clear reason in a foreign land.

Those who dared to infiltrate enemy territory to commit mass blood sacrifices were, at the very least, Foundation Establishment True Cultivators.

Before such an entity, even if Alpha-Seven broke through to the High Grade, Wang Ba would be nothing more than a mantis trying to stop a war chariot.

In that moment, the brutal reality of this world crystallized in his mind.

This was a world where vast power was concentrated in the hands of the few. If he did not find a way to strengthen himself, he would eventually suffer the same fate as the residents of that city—innocent, ignorant, and slaughtered like livestock.

“I must speed up my collection of Lifespan!”

He had to condense a spiritual root. He had to enter the true world of cultivation. Only then would he have a fighting chance.

On his return journey, Wang Ba passed the North Pine Market. To his surprise, it had not yet closed for the night.

He immediately detoured into the stalls. Visiting several grain shops and livestock dealers, he emptied his pouch of every last Spirit Stone he had.

In exchange, he acquired over 270 dying chickens and more than 120 sick ducks.

The colorful ducks offered more Lifespan than the Rare Fowl—nearly three years each—but he didn’t drain them immediately. To avoid drawing attention to such a large haul of sick livestock, Wang Ba made several trips, smuggling them back to his manor in batches under the cover of darkness.

By the time he finished, it was deep into the night.

His manor already housed nearly two hundred Rare Fowl. Wang Ba took a risk. He stored Lifespan into the new sick batch immediately to keep them alive, then prepared to harvest everything.

I’ll be leaving soon anyway.

If he harvested the Lifespan right before his escape, it wouldn’t matter if someone noticed the anomaly later. He would be long gone.

The risk was real, but desperation had stripped him of the luxury of hesitation.

He gritted his teeth, forced himself to eat more chicken meat to sustain his cultivation, and snatched a few hours of sleep. Upon waking, he immediately resumed Alpha-Seven’s training.

When Old Hou arrived with the daily delivery, Wang Ba asked him to leave extra feed for the next few days.

To his surprise, Old Hou kept only two buckets on his cart and dumped the entire remaining load at Wang Ba’s feet.

“The chickens in the other sections are mostly dead,” Old Hou grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. “The people from the Clean Mountain Department insisted I take more feed to clear their inventory, but I have nowhere to put it. I was wondering where to dump it, so you might as well take it all!”

“That’s… that’s too much. I definitely can’t use all this,” Wang Ba said, feigning panic.

Old Hou just waved his hand dismissively and drove his donkey cart away, eager to be done with his shift.

“Old Hou really doesn’t seem like the kind of ruthless person who would casually murder someone…” Wang Ba muttered, watching the old man’s retreating figure with a frown.

He turned back to the small mountain of feed, and a satisfied smile finally broke through his anxious facade.

“Actually, this amount is just perfect for today.”

Claiming he couldn’t use it was just a performance. While he couldn’t hide the disappearance of the feed forever, he only need to muddle through for a short while.

However, one thing continued to gnaw at him: Niu Yong’s brother still hadn’t appeared.

The chicken manure piled outside the manor had been fermenting for three days. The stench was becoming unbearable. Wang Ba had no choice but to haul it down the hillside himself.

After finishing the grunt work, he didn’t pause for breath. He hurried straight to Ding-Nine Manor.

“Ugh, it stinks to high heaven! Can’t a man eat in peace?”

Wang Ba had barely stepped into the courtyard when he heard Chu Erniu’s voice, thick with disgust.

Wafting through the air alongside the complaint was the rich, savory aroma of stewed chicken.

To Wang Ba, however, the smell was anything but appetizing.

When one is forced to eat the same food every single day, for every single meal—stuffing it down even when the stomach rebels—even the most divine delicacy becomes inducing of vomit.

Wang Ba had reached that limit long ago. Now, before every meal of Spirit Poultry, he had to mentally steel himself just to swallow it. The sudden assault of the scent nearly made him gag.

Chu Erniu, oblivious as always, saw Wang Ba enter. He tore a drumstick off a cooked chicken, took a massive bite, and smirked.

“Hey! You’ve raised Spirit Poultry, but you’ve never eaten one, right?”

Chu Erniu chewed loudly, grease coating his lips. “Some people eat them raw to preserve the spiritual energy, but I’m different. I like them stewed!”

He ripped the tail end off the chicken and tossed it toward Wang Ba like one feeds a dog.

“Here! Come over here. Young Master will reward you with a chicken butt. Have a taste!”

Wang Ba stared at the piece of meat on the ground.

…Why do I have such an overwhelming urge to punch him?

Heaven was truly unfair. A fool like this, who possessed the intelligence of a rock, was gifted with a spiritual root that brilliant men would kill for.

Wang Ba thought of the Buried Bone Secret Technique—the horrific ritual of forcibly ripping bones from a living victim just to gain a chance at cultivation. Yet this idiot had been born at the finish line.

The absurdity of it all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He forced a humble smile and brushed off the insult.

Fortunately, the cultivators of Ding-Nine Manor still hadn’t noticed the subtle changes in their flock’s Lifespan.

However, Wang Ba didn’t dare steal any more from them. The Detailed Manual he had read yesterday mentioned methods for determining the age of a Spirit Poultry. While not perfectly accurate, he couldn’t risk Senior Brother Shi examining the birds too closely.

Shi’s expertise in beast taming far outstripped Wang Ba’s. If he were exposed now, the loss would be catastrophic.

Another busy day passed.

The atmosphere in the Sect grew heavier by the hour. Disciples flew overhead constantly, and occasionally, the massive shadow of a warship would blot out the sun as it sailed through the clouds.

The oppressive weight of impending war hung over Ding-Nine Manor like a shroud.

That afternoon, a Foundation Establishment cultivator clad in purple robes descended at the manor’s entrance. He demanded four hundred Spirit Poultry immediately.

Senior Brother Shi personally went out to greet him.

Facing the purple-robed elder, Shi’s usually furrowed, arrogant brow smoothed out completely. He bowed deeply, his face plastered with an obsequious smile.

“Please rest assured, Martial Uncle. This disciple will deliver them today. I will absolutely not delay the Sect’s grand mission.”

“Mm.”

The purple-robed cultivator nodded coldly, offered no other words, and rode his sword into the sky, disappearing in a streak of light.

Wang Ba watched from the side, marveling at Shi’s transformation.

Truly an eye-opener.

He had assumed Senior Brother Shi wore that “everyone owes me money” expression for everyone. Turns out, he was just as capable of bootlicking as anyone else when power dynamics shifted.

Wang Ba initially thought losing four hundred chickens would lighten his workload.

He was wrong.

Senior Brother Shi immediately took him to a neighboring Ding Section and requisitioned several hundred Rare Fowl to refill the coops.

Then, Shi went into his room and returned with several large gourds, which he shoved into Wang Ba’s hands.

“Go. Feed these to all the Rare Fowl.”

“One pill per bird, per day, for ten days straight.”

“This is…?” Wang Ba asked, feigning curiosity.

“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask.” Shi shot him a cold glare but explained anyway. “These are ‘Extreme Blood Pills.’ They have a high probability of forcing a Rare Fowl to break through into Spirit Poultry. However, they only work on Rare Fowl.”

“The ingredients are scarce and were specially approved by the Elders. Do not waste a single one!”

“Yes, Immortal Master.” Wang Ba lowered his head quickly.

In the following days, Wang Ba was run off his feet.

Between managing the two manors and administering the pills, he had barely a moment to breathe. Yet, he squeezed every second he could to study the Detailed Manual. His understanding of Spirit Poultry deepened, and vague ideas about breeding began to form in his mind.

But he had no time to test them.

The rotation time for the Sect’s border patrol disciples finally arrived.

That night, Wang Ba ghosted through the shadows toward South Lake Village.

His heart sank.

Instead of a gap in the defenses, he found that the number of disciples guarding the perimeter had actually increased.

Even with his Yin God power active, sneaking into the tunnel entrance under the noses of so many Qi Refining cultivators was suicide.

He lay in the brush outside South Lake Village for an entire night, waiting for a lapse in security.

It never came.

As dawn broke and even more disciples arrived to reinforce the position, Wang Ba had no choice but to retreat to his manor.

Anxiety began to gnaw at his sanity.

He worried that Rat-Head Gou Mu might have already buried the tunnel entrance to cover his tracks. He worried that the war would drag him in as cannon fodder. Rumors were already circulating about Laborer Disciples being forcibly conscripted for logistics duty.

Trapped in this pressure cooker of stress, the day finally came when the Rare Fowl and Colorful Ducks in Ding-Eighty-Seven Manor completed their breakthroughs.

It was a massive harvest.

Over four hundred and seventy Spirit Poultry. One hundred and twenty Spirit Ducks.

Late at night, Wang Ba stood amidst the overcrowded coops. The sheer density of feathers and beaks filled the enclosure.

Looking at them, his heart was a chaotic mix of triumph and dread.

“Hoo—”

He exhaled slowly.

“Let’s begin.”

He reached out his hand, moving from bird to bird in the darkness.

He worked until the first light of dawn touched the horizon.

When he finally straightened his back, the numbers in his mind were staggering.

He had harvested 3,941.4 years of Lifespan.

Adding the 658.7 years from the sick chickens and the 800-plus years stolen from Ding-Nine Manor…

His current Lifespan balance stood at 5,403.1 years!

But it was the total that triggered the change.

At that exact moment, an invisible screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

[Accumulated Lifespan has reached 10,000 years]

[Activating Divine Ability: Substitute Death]

[Description: Bind a living creature as a Substitute Death vessel. Once the main body suffers fatal damage, the damage is transferred to the bound creature. Cost: 1,000 years of Lifespan per binding.]

[Bound Vessels: 0/1]