When the conversation turned to Daoist Horn-Pot, the cultivator surnamed Shi wore an expression of sheer, unadulterated pride—as if he personally shared in the ancient master’s glory.

Although Wang Ba was inwardly impatient, he could only force himself to maintain a facade of humble interest, listening as the man droned on.

As it turned out, this Daoist Horn-Pot had been the Sect Leader of the Eastern Sage Sect two generations prior.

In years past, after achieving great success in his cultivation, he had traveled through the State of Chen. It was here, by a stroke of destiny, that he discovered traces of the divine beast, Fan Ming. Overruling all objections from the elders of the time, he made the decisive decree to relocate the entire Eastern Sage Sect to this very spot.

From that moment on, they took root and settled, gradually rising to become one of the five major sects in the State of Chen.

It was no exaggeration to say that the Eastern Sage Sect’s current prestige and thunderous reputation were inseparable from the contributions of this Patriarch Horn-Pot.

“Unfortunately,” Shi sighed, shaking his head, “since the time of Patriarch Horn-Pot, the Myriad Beast Department lineage has never produced another figure of such caliber. Our situation has worsened with each passing day. Whenever this matter is mentioned, everyone in the department sighs unceasingly with regret.”

Wang Ba felt completely indifferent. To him, it was just a story—ancient history that offered no food for his belly nor safety for his life.

The tale concluded, yet Cultivator Shi still seemed to have more to say, wearing an expression of lingering satisfaction. Wang Ba, fearing another lecture, hurriedly suggested they proceed to inspect Ding Ten Manor.

This was, after all, official business. Cultivator Shi dared not delay further and led Wang Ba toward their destination.

After a brief familiarization with the state of Ding Ten Manor, Wang Ba assessed the assets. Although the number of Spirit Poultry here wasn’t as high as at Ding Nine Manor, there were still over six hundred birds.

Seizing the opportunity, Wang Ba asked, his tone casual and seemingly inadvertent:

“Immortal, didn’t you mention it would be a few days before the Sect Leader and the others departed? Why have the Immortals from Ding Ten Manor gone over so early?”

“You don’t understand,” Shi replied with a knowing chuckle, his tone dripping with the condescension typical of a cultivator instructing a mortal.

“Do you think cultivators engaging in battle formations is a simple matter? Although they are all skilled in combat, rushing into battle recklessly without coordination would mean certain death. They must be integrated into the grand formation to fight as a single unit. Such drills naturally require time. They, ah, were most likely pulled away for last-minute practice.”

He paused, glancing toward the main peak. “There are still four days until the departure date. They already have a foundation, so a bit of polishing now should be sufficient.”

Wang Ba nodded as if enlightened, but inwardly, he felt a pang of disappointment. The sect wasn’t empty yet.

…

Upon returning to Ding Eighty-Seven Manor, Wang Ba wasted no time. He quickly slaughtered a Spirit Poultry and placed it in a clay pot to stew.

While the meat simmered, he gripped a Spirit Stone, focusing on his cultivation.

By the time he had refined two more wisps of gaseous Spiritual Power within his body, the savory aroma of the stew filled the room. He sat down and began to eat.

Compared to the cultivators at Ding Nine Manor, who barbarically swallowed processed Spirit Poultry raw to maximize potency, Wang Ba vastly preferred this civilized method.

He soon noticed the changes.

As the meat of one male Spirit Poultry settled in his stomach, the contained Spiritual Qi slowly dispersed, radiating outward.

Then, under the gravitational pull of his Dantian’s vortex, the majority of that Spiritual Qi was rapidly seized and transformed by his four Spirit Roots.

In the end, it spontaneously condensed into a staggering five wisps of gaseous Spiritual Power within his Dantian.

At the same time, supported by the surge of Spiritual Power, he could faintly perceive the essence of the Spirit Poultry’s flesh and blood sinking into his tissues, subtly and imperceptibly improving his mortal frame.

These changes were not immediately explosive, but Wang Ba knew the principle of accumulation—if maintained over time, the effects would be terrifyingly significant.

When he began to simultaneously operate the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture, a portion of the Spiritual Qi that the Spirit Roots couldn’t absorb in time—which would normally dissipate—was guided by his will. It surged completely into his Yin Spirit Abode.

Accompanied by his Visualization practice, his Yin Spirit Power rapidly condensed at a visible rate.

One drop… two drops!

After a long session of cultivation, Wang Ba suddenly opened his eyes.

Feeling the substantial gains, he couldn’t help but be amazed.

A single male Spirit Poultry had yielded five wisps of gaseous Spiritual Power and two drops of Yin Spirit Power, all while tempering his physical body.

“No wonder Spirit Poultry are so sought after!” Wang Ba sighed, his eyes gleaming.

He was tempted to eat another, but unfortunately, even as a cultivator, the potent energy of one Spirit Poultry was taxing for his current limits. A second one would likely cause him to explode from energy overload.

And so, he settled into a repetitive yet fulfilling routine.

During the day, after finishing his duties at Ding Eighty-Seven, he would travel to Ding Ten Manor to work. At night, he returned to spend the majority of the darkness cultivating Spiritual Power and Yin Spirit Power.

Time passed in a rush.

Contrary to Wang Ba’s paranoid expectations, these three days were surprisingly calm. Apart from the occasional cultivator streaking across the sky, the world remained peaceful.

Yu Changchun, Deacon Li, Old Hou… except for Old Hou, who was no longer human and stood like a statue at the foot of the manor every morning, the shadow of the Ascension Society seemed to have vanished from his life.

More than once, a dangerous thought crossed Wang Ba’s mind: If not for the Ascension Society, staying here wouldn’t be so bad.

He was familiar with the routine. As long as he claimed to have awakened a Hidden Spirit Root and officially became a Sect disciple, he could peacefully raise chickens. He could harvest Lifespan indefinitely and train the Physique Strengthening Scripture to the thirteenth layer.

Once his Spirit Root aptitude improved, his cultivation speed would soar. By then, even starting with a humble Four Spirit Root, reaching the high realms might not be a pipe dream.

But reality was cruel. The Ascension Society was always there, a blade hanging over his neck, constantly watching.

Shaking his head slightly to dispel these idle fantasies, he gathered his wandering thoughts. He would be patient. He would wait quietly for the moment to strike.

Soon, the day finally arrived.

The day the Sect Leader and the legions of cultivators would leave on their expedition to the cultivation world of the State of Fu.

From dawn, the number of cultivators flying back and forth in the sky increased noticeably.

Streams of light crisscrossed the heavens, and the air hummed with sharp, cold sword energy. Huge spirit beasts could be seen treading on empty air, and small warships rose from the sect’s core like floating islands.

The very air seemed thick with a heavy, solemn, and murderous atmosphere.

What shocked Wang Ba the most was the sight of a Golden Core True Person. The figure strode across the sky, effortlessly carrying a small mountain peak on his back as if it were a backpack.

The scene was awe-inspiring—it looked as if they were physically moving the entire Sect.

After noon, a grand, magnified voice suddenly resounded above the Eastern Sage Sect, echoing like thunder:

“The cultivation world of the State of Fu is without virtue! Evil paths run rampant, demons and monsters plague the land! The common people of Fu are plunged into misery, corpses strewn across the fields, the cry of wild geese mourning everywhere!”

The voice rose in pitch, trembling with righteous fury.

“I, Ji Lan, eighth-generation Sect Leader of the Eastern Sage Sect, am willing to uphold justice on behalf of Heaven! Today, I lead the disciples…”

After a long speech filled with high-sounding rhetoric and inciting words, the sentence Wang Ba had been yearning for finally arrived.

“Disciples! Follow me on this campaign!”

In an instant.

Boom!

Countless streams of light rose from the ground at the very limits of Wang Ba’s vision, tearing into the sky!

Simultaneously, a colossal, majestic warship slowly ascended from the direction of South Lake Village. A terrifying fluctuation of Spiritual Qi rolled out from the distance, a pressure so immense it made Wang Ba’s soul tremble.

Flanking this leviathan were swarms of smaller warships and massive spirit beasts, trailing behind like loyal hounds.

Soon, this massive force—grand and imposing—departed the Sect’s territory, flying toward a horizon far beyond Wang Ba’s sight.

Wang Ba watched them go. He knew that the opportunity he had been waiting for—the one chance to break free—had finally arrived.

He glanced at the Spirit Poultry inside Ding Ten Manor. No longer hesitating, he reached out.

He ruthlessly extracted 4 years of Lifespan from every single bird.

[Lifespan Acquired: 2,460 Years]

With the harvest complete, he patiently waited until Lin Yu arrived to take over the guard duty at Ding Ten Manor.

Lin Yu, her cultivation too low to sense the subtle shift in vitality, completely failed to notice the change in the poultry. After exchanging pleasantries with Wang Ba, she returned to her room alone, just as she always did.

However, just before crossing the threshold, she suddenly turned her head.

“Wang Ba, has Senior Brother Zhao looked for you recently?”

Wang Ba, feigning ignorance, shook his head. “No, Immortal.”

In truth, he knew exactly why. Zhao Feng was the Outer Sect’s Senior Brother. Although he had been left behind to guard the Sect, the logistical nightmare of the main force’s departure meant he was drowning in duties. At this critical juncture, he wouldn’t waste time on a laborer.

Seeing this, Lin Yu couldn’t hide a trace of disappointment. She bit her lip and asked softly, “Then… if he comes looking for you, could you call me?”

Wang Ba was desperate to leave. Hearing this, he exerted all his willpower to suppress the urgency burning in his chest and forced a bright, obsequious smile.

“Naturally! I will inform you immediately.”

Sorry, he thought inwardly. But I’m going to have to break that promise.

Preoccupied with her romantic troubles, Lin Yu didn’t notice the slight stiffness in Wang Ba’s demeanor. Hearing his assurance, she seemed to relax, a faint, grateful smile gracing her lips.

“Then thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Then, Immortal Lin… I’ll be taking my leave?”

“Mm. Go ahead.”

Finally free.

Wang Ba turned and hurried toward Ding Eighty-Seven Manor, his pace brisk.

The road was deserted. There were almost no laborer disciples or Sect disciples to be seen. The Sect Leader’s crusade had stripped away nearly half the population of the Eastern Sage Sect.

As for the “great change” Zhao Feng had fearfully anticipated, it seemed completely absent. Apart from rain clouds gathering gloomily on the distant horizon, the Sect was as quiet as a stagnant pond.

Wang Ba had no time to ponder these matters; they would soon be irrelevant to him.

The moment he returned to his own manor, he eagerly grabbed a Spirit Poultry, attempting to activate the System’s function.

Bind!

However, to his shock, the binding failed!

“What is going on?!” Wang Ba’s heart skipped a beat. “Didn’t it say ‘any living creature’ is possible?”

Sweating with anxiety, he summoned the panel.

[Insufficient affinity status. Cannot bind.]

“Affinity status? Damn it, why didn’t you say so earlier!”

Wang Ba, usually so composed, swore aloud in rare anger.

But panic would solve nothing. He forced himself to calm down, his brow furrowed in thought. Affinity… familiarity…

He moved quickly, locating the six Spirit Poultry he had personally raised from chicks: Alpha-One through Alpha-Six.

He tested them one by one.

Alpha-One: Fail. Alpha-Two: Fail…

He found that only Alpha-Five and Alpha-Six met the requirements.

In the end, Wang Ba chose to bind Alpha-Six. He then casually tossed both Alpha-Five and Alpha-Six into his Spirit Beast Bag.

He scanned his room one last time.

Apart from the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture, the top-grade Divine Movement Talisman gifted by Ye Lingyu, his jade pendant, and a few essential items, he abandoned everything else.

Material possessions were heavy. Survival required speed.

Packing complete, he pushed the door open and stepped out.

Only then did he realize that a sparse, cold rain had begun to fall.

Rain clouds choked the sky, casting a premature twilight over the world. Outside the mountain manor, everything was dim and grey.

Wang Ba paused. He looked back at the manor where he had lived, worked, and schemed for a full year. A complex emotion flashed through his eyes—relief, regret, fear.

Then, he resolutely turned around.

Without looking back again, he sprinted into the rain, heading straight for South Lake Village.

(End of Chapter)