The suffocating underground chamber of the Hanz Clan Martial Arts Arena thrumd with the raw fury of a battle teetering on the edge of annihilation. The air crackled with malevolent qi, the bone-jarring collisions of Lordi Payne’s crimson-misted bone blade against Rodney Luther’s errie black bone chain whip sending shockwaves that fissured the bloodstained floor, rubble raining from the ceiling.
Rodney teetered on a deadly precipice, his pride clashing with reason as Lordi’s Blood Spectre Footwork Art—an eerily unpredictable movent technique—allowed him to evade lethal strikes by re inches, stretching the fight into a grueling war of attrition.
Lordi, equally strained, sensed Rodney’s impending lethal strike, his azure flas flaring as he shouted, "Woaah! Hol’ up, hol’ up! I’m Kinson Wexford’s trusted confidant, you must have heard about that Lord of the Inner Sect Deathveil Bloodline!"
Lifting his Blade of Life Hater, he signaled to the Thirst Bull Squad. "Look at this! This is Senior Brother Wexford’s blade, gifted to publicly under Fairy Lith’s saintess guarantee when I joined the holy sect! You recognize it—the weapon he wielded in the Outer Sect!"
Lordi’s ragged breaths steadied, his spirit reserves perilously low after expending over half his spirit energy to persist against Rodney’s onslaught. After all, he’s rely at Seventh Layer Qi Refinent Stage, his wounds—deep gashes exposing jade-veined bones—scread with each move, and continuing the fight risked forcing him to sever his chained arms and flee using the Blood Spectre Footwork Art, a desperate escape that would cost him dearly. Such a sacrifice would leave him crippled, vulnerable to the Hanz Clan estate’s unknwon demonic traps.
"Esteed Senior Brothers and Sisters," Lordi continued, his voice firm despite his pain, "all of this is a misunderstanding. In deference to Fairy Lith, the Sect Successor, and Lord Wexford, the Bloodline Lord, let’s withdraw. Consider this affair concluded."
With a calculated flourish, he produced a porcelain vial from his storage pouch. "To express my sincere apologies. Here are ten Legendary level Bone Tempering Pills. How about both of us just step back—perhaps it’s best to let this matter rest."
Flicking his wrist, Lordi tossed the vial toward the direction where Emma Dawson resting on the ground.
Emma Dawson stirred awake, her delicate fingers clutching Ann’s cloak as the Thirst Bull Squad relayed what had happened. Her beautiful face twisted with fury and sha—Lordi’s sudden attack had knocked her unconscious, leaving her unaware of the chaos until now. The torn remnants of her gauze dress and the borrowed cloak draped over her only emphasized her vulnerability.
The squad’s hushed voices spun a distorted tale: an unknown seventh-layer cultivator had molested her, a brazen insult to her eighth-layer strength. Worse, the violation had happened in front of Rodney Luther, the senior brother she had long admired. The thought of being defiled by so seventh-layer nobody—especially in Rodney’s presence—ignited a rage so fierce it threatened to consu her.
Her heart pounded with humiliation. She had nearly been stripped bare, her dignity shattered before the crowd. If not for Rodney’s swift intervention, the disgrace would have been unbearable.
Now, under the flickering glow of ghost fire, her trembling form stood barely concealed by the cloak. Her eyes burned into Lordi, her wrath an inferno that rivaled the demonic arrays’ pulsating malice.
When Lordi tossed the porcelain vial toward her, Emma’s fury erupted, her entire body trembling as she snatched it mid-air, her dark eyes blazing with hatred.
"You filthy lowlife motherfucker!" the beauty shrieked, her voice a venomous lash, her delicate hands smashing the vial against the bloodstained floor, the porcelain shattering with a sharp crack that echoed through the chamber. Ten grey-white pills rolled across the rubble-strewn ground, their faint glow a stark contrast to the arena’s gloom.
"Who the fuck wants your pathetic apologies?" she spat, her tone dripping with vicious contempt, her cloak slipping slightly to reveal more of her curves, a fleeting vulnerability that only fueled her defiance. "Today, one of us dies—either you or !"
Jorge Blue’s sharp eyes glead as he flicked a subtle hand gesture, his Ninth Layer spirit energy lashing out to seize a grey-white pill from the debris-littered floor.
Holding it up, his expression shifted—disbelief flickering across his face.
The elixir’s color was unnaturally pure—not the dull grey-white of common Bone Tempering Pills, but a radiant milky luminescence, as if carved from translucent glass. It held an ethereal lightness, an almost weightless perfection. Most striking were the azure streaks swirling across its surface, intricate as forbidden runes, sealing the pill’s imnse power within.
Jorge inhaled sharply. No scent. Not the faintest trace of herbs, nor the usual dicinal fragrance.
Mother of Hell?!
"This... is a true Legendary Bone Tempering Pill?" he murmured, his voice hushed but thick with astonishnt.
This was no ordinary treasure. A legendary level elixir—one capable of reforging bones to divine-tier strength. Even among Inner Sect elites, such a pill was unfathomably rare.
Jorge Blue’s gaze sharpened on Lordi Payne, suspicion coiling tighter. This should have been impossible.
A re Seventh Layer cultivator, yet this young man’s skeletal defense had already reached mid-transformation into Perfect Grade Jade Tier Bones—a feat surpassing even the Inner Sect’s legendary seniors during their Qi Refinent days.
And that wasn’t all. The Blade of Life Hater, a notorious Dao artifact far beyond Outer Sect standards, humd in this man’s grip. His footwork was swift like a blur, his blade art radiating unholy malice, both defying the nature laws and the limits of his age and cultivation rank.
Now, the man had casually tossed out ten Legendary level Bone Tempering Pills like they were re trinkets. No. This "nobody" had backing beyond any ordinary prodigy.
Jorge’s mind raced. "The Life Hater tied Lordi to Kinson Wexford, the Deathveil Bloodline Lord—but even Senior Brother Wexford, in his Outer Sect days, couldn’t have afforded such treasures."
"Which ant..."
His voice slithered through a private voice transmission to Rodney Luther,
"Junior Brother, the bone blade in the man’s hand connects him to Wexford, but that Bloodline Lord never had this kind of wealth. His patron runs deeper—beyond re Inner Sect bloodline lords. Do you understand what I an?"
Rodney’s face darkened, his Ninth Layer aura flickering like a storm. His bone chain whip trembled with suppressed fury.
"You are saying... Sect Successor Fairy Lith is the true power backs this brat?"
The na alone sent a chill down his spine. Fairy Lith. That unreachable, otherworldly powerhouse. If her highness stood behind this motherfucker...
Jorge Blue’s transmission cut like a blade, his gaze never leaving Lordi Payne. "Who else could burn mountains of spirit stones just to forge an Outer Sect disciple’s bones intoPerfect Grade Jade Tier?" he countered, evading Rodney’s question. "You know the truth of bone tempering arts. Low Grade Jade Tier Bones mark a genius with profound talent and relentless effort. Mid Grade? That demands not just talent and dedication, but abundant resources—piles of spirit stones buying cultivation resources to strengthen the skeleton daily. Mid Grade Jade Tier Bone cultivators are walking strongholds, their defenses rivaling fortified city walls."
He paused, his tone growing heavier. "High Grade Jade Tier Bones? Near impossible, even in a top power like our Abyss Pit Sect. That requires Premium level Bone Tempering Pills for daily training. A single mid-grade pill flaws the bone’s purity, dropping the entire skeletal status back to Mid Grade. But Perfect Grade Jade Tier Bones?"
Jorge’s voice dropped to a near whisper, laced with awe and suspicion. "That exists only in theory. It demands Legendary level Bone Tempering Pills for every dose—finest, rarest elixirs, consud without fail. Even one Premium level pill ruins the chance for perfection. And even with such resources, success isn’t guaranteed. The purity, the precision—it’s the pinnacle."
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