The barbarians lived scattered across the great desert.
Some had no cities at all, dwelling in countless tents of every size and shape. Others built small settlements that barely counted as towns—serving mainly for gathering and trade, almost without any defensive power.
As for the few major barbarian capitals, they were more than ten thousand li away from the Liangzhou border.
Chen Sanshi silently calculated the numbers in his mind.
The fourteen Northern Liang battalions, with more than two hundred thousand troops, if sent out in full, would require civilian laborers for logistics and supply. Together, the total number of people involved could reach nearly five hundred thousand.
A force of half a million.
For the vast and populous northern frontier, that might not seem much. But the consumption of resources for such an army—especially food and fodder on a distant expedition—was unimaginably huge.
Even if this war ended in a great victory, the northern frontier itself would need more than ten years of rest to recover, while the desert tribes would not recover for at least twenty years.
Indeed, some matters couldn't be delayed.
Yet everything still felt rushed—armies expanded hastily, and war began in haste.
His master, the Grand Commander, only wanted to bring peace to the northern borders quickly. Otherwise, every few weeks, barbarian cavalry would appear outside the walls—burning, looting, killing—and then vanishing again. It was impossible to live in peace.
As for the imperial court's approval of this campaign—Chen Sanshi could guess their intent.
Once the northern chaos was pacified, they'd use the chance to reclaim control over the northern armies.
But there was another concern—perhaps the most important of all.
The ten-day incident in Yunzhou.
What exactly had the barbarians gained from that? How much had their overall strength improved?
No one knew.
It seemed he'd need to find a chance soon—to lead a small unit deep into the desert for a proper reconnaissance.
"General!"
"All defensive handovers have been arranged," Xia Cong reported as he approached.
"Good."
Chen Sanshi patted him on the shoulder. "Stay vigilant. Don't get careless."
After giving a few more instructions, he mounted Qianxun, his White Swan horse, and left.
As commander, it wasn't his duty to personally stand watch. His role was to inspect and supervise. Once that was done, he moved on.
The Hongze Battalion had around two thousand men stationed for watch duty along the Wall.
After all, the Great Wall's purpose was mainly surveillance and warning—not full defense—so there was no need for too many stationed troops.
[...]
[Skill Progress: Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression · Profound Manifestation (Minor Achievement)]
[Progress: 988/2000]
After another day of cultivation, Chen Sanshi exhaled a long, turbid breath. Then, taking out the Alchemy Furnace from his storage bag, he set it up inside the wood shed—ready to begin his first formal alchemy attempt.
"General, you're… refining pills?"
Ningxiang, watching nearby, finally realized where that massive purchase of spirit stones in the marketplace had gone.
"Please, you two stand guard for me," Chen Sanshi said calmly.
He hadn't yet found a better location, so he would start here at home.
The Hundred Arts of Cultivation had many branches.
But the four at the top were alchemy, weapon forging, talisman crafting, and formation building.
Other disciplines like spirit planting, beast-taming, and puppet-making were of lesser importance.
And among those four arts—alchemy stood supreme.
Weapons, talismans, and formations all strengthened external power.
Only alchemy—pills that entered the body—enhanced one's own cultivation directly.
A master of alchemy could walk the path to longevity itself.
Throughout history, countless emperors had sought immortality through alchemy. Many wise rulers in their later years had ruined their kingdoms chasing elixirs of life.
But within the cultivation world, pills that truly extended life did exist—along with many that raised cultivation. The problem was that all of them were priceless beyond measure. Even cultivators fought bitterly for them, let alone mortals who could never gather such materials.
And speaking of materials—
Spiritual grain, the spiritual grain.
It was the universal ingredient across all the Hundred Arts.
No matter the type of pill, Spiritual grain was always the foundation.
Even talismans required it—the spirit paper contained powdered Spiritual grain fibers. The same was true for refining weapons or formations, and especially for beast-taming—it was essential everywhere.
To cultivators, Spiritual grain was what grain was to commoners.
But the terrifying thing about Spiritual grain was that it didn't rely on spiritual qi. As long as the soil met basic conditions, it could grow even in the mortal world. Hence, it was widely planted in the lower realms.
However…
For ordinary humans, Spiritual grain was poisonous. Not only did it take up farmland, but prolonged cultivation also drained the soil's vitality—turning fertile land barren over time.
And alchemy consumed Spiritual grain at a horrifying rate.
Take, for example, the Fasting Pill he was about to refine—each pill required compressing one stone (about 120 catties) of Spiritual grain.
Even the Spiritual grain medicinal paste worked the same way—each cauldron's batch devoured vast amounts of grain.
In the cultivation world, the daily consumption of Spiritual grain was measured not in sacks, but in mountains.
After setting up the furnace, Chen Sanshi filled it with water.
Low-grade pills could use ordinary water, but high-grade ones required special purified or spiritual water.
Next, he took out Golden Smoke Wood, coated it with immortal lamp oil, and lit it with a fire striker.
A crimson flame flared up instantly.
But unlike before, this time the Strange Flame didn't surge wildly. As it burned, the furnace's surface began to glow with layers of azure runes, lighting one after another. The base swirled like a vortex, sucking the flames inward. The air trembled with a low hum as refinement began.
That furnace alone was worth what an ordinary cultivator might earn after ten years of effort.
The Golden Smoke Wood didn't burn up in an instant like normal logs, but it was still consumed faster than he had expected.
"This Strange Flame is truly fierce," Chen Sanshi muttered.
Fortunately, he'd prepared enough and could mix in some mortal firewood to make it last longer.
Without wasting more time, he began adding ingredients—
the Spiritual grain paste, ginseng, spirit mushrooms, and spiritual rice he had prepared beforehand…
The ginseng and spirit mushrooms he used were all genuine spiritual ingredients from the cultivation world. Though not particularly expensive when converted into spirit stones, they were far superior to any mundane medicinal herbs.
Every single ingredient had to be added into the furnace according to an exact proportion and at a precise moment—no error allowed.
For Chen Sanshi, those parts were simple enough.
The real difficulty lay in "Opening the Light."
During the refining process, he had to press both palms onto the alchemy furnace, channeling spiritual force through the carved runes to aid the Strange Flame in refining the medicine. Too much or too little force would ruin everything—the strength and rhythm had to be exact.
The earlier steps were all clearly recorded on the pill recipe.
But this part couldn't be quantified.
Every cultivator's realm, technique, and physique were different, so it relied entirely on instinct. It was just like the two vague words written in mortal cookbooks—"add to taste."
Moreover, this step also involved the use of Divine Sense.
In the early stages of immortal cultivation, a cultivator's Divine Sense was weak—barely useful, but it existed. To precisely control the heat and balance of the process, one had to use Divine Sense to feel the subtle changes inside the furnace.
Chen Sanshi closed his eyes and circulated The Five Elemental Formula, patiently sensing the flow within the furnace.
He didn't know how much time had passed—until suddenly, he felt his consciousness drift, becoming weightless and formless. Then, as if he had entered the furnace itself, he could see the entire internal transformation with his own eyes.
This wasn't mere alchemy.
It was a cultivation of the Great Dao itself!
Inside the alchemy furnace were the patterns of Heaven and Earth—the evolution of the Dao.
Every clash, every fusion, altered the quality of the final pill.
Bang!
A loud explosion snapped beside his ear.
Chen Sanshi jolted awake—this batch had failed.
He quickly cast a spell to open the lid. A sharp, burnt stench rushed out, and the inside of the furnace was a mess of blackened residue.
Alchemy—since it involved the mysteries of Heaven—was naturally dangerous.
At the Treasure Gathering Pavilion, they had gifted him a small manual after his purchase. It contained basic alchemy knowledge, including warnings: the higher the grade of the pill, the greater the risk. Some alchemists had even blown themselves up mid-refinement.
[Skill: Alchemy (Uninitiated)]
[Progress: 2/100]
[Effect: None]
"Again!"
Chen Sanshi had already started to grasp the basics. Fortunately, the Fasting Pill was relatively simple, involving only twelve transformations.
After another five attempts, he finally understood the technique completely.
Array, flame, and heavenly materials—each had to be refined, combined, and fused at just the right moment.
Though standing outside the furnace, he could faintly sense the changes inside, using his spiritual force to adjust accordingly, until he mastered all twelve transformations.
Hum!
A low, resonant sound rang out. The furnace lid lifted slightly, and a gentle spiritual fragrance filled the air.
At the bottom of the furnace lay five pills, smooth and round, glowing faintly.
Even from the same batch, the quality varied—two top-grade, two fine-grade, and one inferior-grade. Calculating cost against output, this batch would technically be a loss.
The Hundred Arts of Cultivation—how could any of them be easy?
If they were, there wouldn't be so many cultivators forced to mine, farm, or even sell their lives for spirit stones just to afford cultivation resources.
According to the manual, successfully refining a Fasting Pill even once in ten attempts was considered average talent.
Chen Sanshi succeeded in five.
That was already outstanding.
His spiritual roots might be mediocre, but his comprehension was excellent—helped along by his Seven Orifices of Wisdom.
[Skill: Alchemy (Uninitiated)]
[Progress: 20/100]
[Effect: None]
Learning to refine the Fasting Pill alone wasn't enough to truly step into the path of alchemy.
He would need to master the Meridian-Nourishing Pill and True Martial Pill next.
Thankfully, he had prepared in advance—it was only a matter of time.
He picked up one top-grade Fasting Pill. The moment he placed it on his tongue, he planned to chew—but it melted on its own, glowing like a small star as it flew straight down his throat.
Instantly, his whole body felt refreshed, his spirit brightened, and a thin layer of spiritual energy spread through his limbs.
A single Fasting Pill could sustain him for one month without food, while also replenishing a martial artist's physical strength.
Holding a few of these in hand meant he could fight on the battlefield—without ever exhausting his strength!
It was truly a pill of immortals.
Even the lowest-grade immortal pill had such incredible effects. The Fasting Pill wasn't just about suppressing hunger—it carried genuine restorative power.
After taking the pill, Chen Sanshi felt his whole body brimming with strength. He grabbed his long spear and went out into the courtyard to continue his drills.
[Skill: Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression · Profound Manifestation (Minor Achievement)]
[Progress: 1288/2000]
He was close to Major Achievement.
'Time to pick up the pace,' he thought. 'Once I reach the Luotian Mountain Range and find that Zouwu beast that escaped last time, and combine it with the Meridian-Nourishing Pill, I'll soon reach Major Achievement in Profound Manifestation—and then begin preparing for the Martial Saint breakthrough.'
Once he stepped into the Martial Saint realm, he would no longer be bound by mortal limits. Even in the cultivation world, he would no longer be among the lowest ranks.
With that thought, Chen Sanshi quickly finished his military duties for the day.
He currently had two main responsibilities:
1. Oversee patrols and surveillance along the Great Wall.
2. Organize men to patrol the city and hunt down members of the Witch God Sect.
Liangzhou City now hosted four battalions—his Hongze Battalion, plus the three under his Senior Brother.
Two were stationed in Dongyi City and Xiyi City, while one remained at the front lines.
Which meant only the Hongze Battalion was handling the defense within the city.
'The Witch God Sect… I'll need to investigate them personally soon.'
Carrying his long spear and bow, Chen Sanshi spent several days traversing the Luotian Mountains, slaying countless poisonous beasts along the way.
Finally, he reached the Twelfth Mountain, nearly crossing the border.
The moment he stepped over, he felt a distinct shift in the world's energy.
"Murderous qi!"
Black, swirling foul qi had begun to pollute the air, mingling with the surrounding natural energies.
"This qi…"
Chen Sanshi sensed through The Five Elemental Formula that it could actually absorb the heaven and earth's foul qi directly.
A spiritual vein?
No—this was a Vein of Foul Qi!
A reviving Foul Vein—hidden right here in the Luotian Mountains!
It seemed…
Not only were the spirit veins of the Eastern Divine Continent awakening—but even the foul qi veins were reviving!
That explained why more and more poison beasts had begun appearing within the Luotian Mountain Range.
But this foul vein…
From what Chen Sanshi knew, such energy couldn't be cultivated or used by humans.
He concealed his breath to the extreme and hid on the ridge, quietly observing. Before long, he noticed several figures flying across the sky, moving back and forth before descending deep into the mountains.
Something of this magnitude—his master surely had already noticed. His two years of disappearance were probably related to this very matter.
A faint hiss echoed through the valley.
Chen Sanshi's eyes narrowed—he caught sight once again of that enormous black serpent, slithering through the distant mountain shadows.
That thing…
Its aura alone proved that any martial cultivator below the Martial Saint Realm would be courting death to provoke it. Otherwise, if he could kill it and use its skin and tendons for a bow, it would make a perfect material for an unmatched weapon.
But for now…
'Better find that Zouwu first.'
Chen Sanshi continued darting through the dense forest. Before long, he spotted another strange beast.
It was a white-furred monkey.
The creature sat cross-legged on the trunk of a towering tree—at least ten zhang tall—absorbing the essence of the sun and moon like a meditating human.
But soon, a faint wisp of foul qi drifted past it.
The monkey trembled in agony, its body twisting violently. Then, unable to resist, it began greedily drawing in the foul qi. Its eyes turned blood-red, and it descended into madness, snarling and thrashing.
"Hiss!"
Spotting Chen Sanshi below, it shrieked and lunged downward, teeth bared.
Chen Sanshi raised his spear and thrust upward in one clean motion—piercing straight through the creature's chest.
It fell dead instantly.
Looking down at the corpse, Chen Sanshi finally understood how these poison beasts came to be.
The beasts of Luotian Mountain carried strange bloodlines. They could passively absorb the essence of the sun and moon or the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to strengthen themselves. But they lacked discernment—absorbing foul qi as well when it appeared. Eventually, when that baleful energy grew too strong, they lost their minds and turned into violent, poisonous monsters.
Still…
'Who could be behind the revival of this foul vein?'
'This reeks of interference from another world.'
'Or perhaps… it's connected to the Witch God Sect stirring trouble in Liangzhou City.'
If all these events were related, they might even tie into the war that was about to erupt.
Chen Sanshi took a breath and forced his thoughts aside—he still had a task to complete.
Half an hour later, he finally found the Zouwu.
"Roar!"
The beast bellowed as he stepped into its territory, its killing intent surging. Its power had already reached the Minor Achievement stage of Profound Manifestation.
Unfortunately for it, Chen Sanshi was no longer the same man from half a year ago.
After just two exchanges, his spear punched straight through the creature's skull.
Blood splashed across the forest floor, staining its colorful feathers crimson. The mighty beast collapsed lifelessly.
"These scales and feathers… they'll fetch quite a price," Chen Sanshi muttered, hoisting the corpse over his shoulder before making his way back toward Liangzhou City.
Not long after entering the city, he spotted a squad of Black Turtle Battalion soldiers rushing toward the eastern district.
Something urgent had clearly happened.
"What's going on?" he called out.
"Ah, Lord Chen!"
The leading Thousand-Commander saluted. "Nothing too serious. A second-rate sect's causing trouble—claiming there's no such thing as the Witch God Sect and that the deaths were caused by the Northern Liang Army. They're riling up the people, so we're heading there to settle it. Shouldn't take long."
Chen Sanshi sighed.
The sects were on the verge of losing their minds.
And who could blame them? Every day, people were dying, and still, no one could uncover the truth.
'Tomorrow's my turn to patrol the city,' he thought. 'I'll handle this myself—see what's really going on.'
Back home, he set down the Zouwu's corpse—only for a slender hand to suddenly swing toward his face, aiming for his ear.
Chen Sanshi instinctively dodged. "Senior Sister?"
"You dare dodge?"
Ninth Senior Sister Rong Yanqiu stormed up and pinched his ear hard. "What's this? You think reaching a higher realm means you can rebel against your seniors? Want to spar with your Senior Sister?"
"I wouldn't dare!"
Chen Sanshi looked baffled. "But what did I even do to make Senior Sister this angry?"
"You tell me."
Rong Yanqiu glanced toward the back courtyard, her expression dark. "You've got guts—going to the pleasure house wasn't enough, so you brought that little flirt back home?"
"Senior Sister, let me explain—"
He gently pried her hand away, but before he could find the words, he decided to change the subject. Lifting the Zouwu's pelt, he grinned. "Senior Sister, look at this beast I caught! Once I finish skinning it, I'll make you a cloak—it'll look stunning on you."
"For me?"
Rong Yanqiu crossed her arms. "You never learn, do you?"
"Right, right—I'll give it to Senior Sister Sun instead!"
Chen Sanshi clapped his hands dramatically. "I'll deliver it to her myself!"
"Junior Brother."
Rong Yanqiu's tone softened, though her expression grew serious. "There's something I've been meaning to say."
"Please, speak freely, Senior Sister."
"Sun Li is already twenty-one this year. She's a grown woman now. If something's meant to happen, don't keep dragging it out."
She paused, then continued meaningfully, "Do you want Master to bring it up himself—or will you wait for Junior Sister Sun to do it?"
"…Understood."
Chen Sanshi wasn't the shy type.
Now that she mentioned it, he realized it had been over half a year since he'd seen Sun Li and her brother.
He'd been too busy, but since tomorrow's schedule would be full again, he might as well visit today.
After processing the Zouwu hide, he made his way to the Grand Commander's Mansion that very afternoon.
"Sanshi!"
Sun Buqi greeted him with a grin. "Finally caught you! Been half a year since I last saw your face!"
After a brief chat, Chen Sanshi went to the back lakeside courtyard, where Sun Li was practicing her blade.
She was talented—good physique, ample resources—and her cultivation had already reached Meridian-Connecting Realm.
"Senior Sister," Chen Sanshi said, handing over the Zouwu hide. "Here. Make yourself a cloak."
"These feathers are beautiful."
Sun Li's tone carried a hint of warmth. Though gentle by nature, she was direct and unpretentious, accepting it without fuss. "Thank you."
"I could teach you some blade techniques if you'd like."
The words slipped out before he realized how strange they sounded—considering that back in Poyang, it had been him begging her for lessons.
He stayed at the mansion until nightfall.
After dinner with Fourth Senior Brother and the Sun siblings, Chen Sanshi finally took his leave.
On his way back, he stopped several times, glancing at the night sky—hoping to see Mister Mei again.
The matter of the Luotian Mountains was something only that man might be able to explain.
Unfortunately, the night passed without a trace of him.
The next morning, Chen Sanshi returned to his routine—training, inspecting the Great Wall, and then personally leading a squad into the city to investigate the Witch God Sect.
But as they passed near the Splitting Moon Manor, a sudden scream tore through the air.
A sudden roar erupted from the front.
"Master!"
"Master, calm down!"
"Boom—!"
The mountain gate exploded into rubble.
With his hair in disarray and eyes blood-red, Wen Zhi, the Master of Splitting Moon Manor, charged down the mountain wielding twin blades. His movements were wild, his expression deranged—like a man possessed. As he hacked wildly before the shattered gate, even the main road outside cracked open with several massive pits.
Then he turned and stormed toward the city.
"Master, you mustn't!"
"Get out of my way—!"
"Master, we don't even know where the Witch God Sect members are!"
"Clang—!"
At that crucial moment, a flash of sword light cut through the air.
It struck Wen Zhi mid-leap, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Old Wen."
Standing atop the bamboo grove was Shao Yuqing, sword in hand. His face was weary and drawn. "In your state, if you enter the city now, you'll only hurt innocent people. Calm yourself."
"Since when do you get to meddle in my affairs?!"
"Boom!"
Wen Zhi swung his twin blades and clashed with Shao Yuqing.
After a fierce exchange of more than ten rounds, perhaps his rage had run its course—or perhaps he realized there was no way out.
Wen Zhi finally stopped, stabbing both blades into the ground. His breathing slowed, and the madness in his eyes began to fade.
The disciples of Splitting Moon Manor rushed forward, supporting their shaken master back up the mountain.
Not far away, Hongze Battalion soldiers arrived just in time.
"Sect Master Shao," Chen Sanshi stepped forward, his tone formal. "What happened here?"
"Ah…"
Shao Yuqing slowly sheathed his sword and sighed heavily. "Old Wen… lost another son."
"How did he die?"
"The Witch God Sect?" Chen Sanshi asked.
"Exactly."
Shao Yuqing's gaze hardened as he looked toward the direction of Splitting Moon Manor. "Last night, Wen's second son was found dead in his room—his heart rotted through, and the blood from it was gone. Who else could have done it besides the Witch God Sect?
"And not just him.
"I also lost two of my true disciples…"
He turned, voice deep and forceful. "General Chen."
He paused, then continued with deliberate weight.
"I admit it.
"When the Eight Northern Garrisons first came to Liangzhou, my Tiantong Sword Sect and Splitting Moon Manor were among those who resisted cooperation.
"But later on, we followed the Grand Commander's orders.
"We opened the mountains and forests, allowing hunters to gather there.
"We reduced land rents to the lowest possible levels.
"We even paid our share of the army's provisions—down to the last bronze coin.
"For years, we've given up every profit we could afford to give.
"And yet, in the last two years, the Witch God Sect has slaughtered our disciples without mercy.
"Meanwhile, your Northern Liang Army still hasn't found a single solid clue.
"Don't you think we deserve an explanation?"
A heavy silence fell.
Even the Hongze soldiers looked uneasy, faces taut with guilt.
But their commander—Chen Sanshi—only smiled coldly.
"Lord Chen?" Shao Yuqing frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"Sect Master Shao," Chen Sanshi's voice dropped low and sharp. "Do you think that because your sects offer money and grain to aid the court and the common people, you're some sort of saints—bleeding yourselves dry for the greater good?"
"Saintly?" Shao Yuqing shook his head slightly. "No. But surely the people of Liangzhou should feel grateful to us."
"Shao Yuqing!"
Chen Sanshi's tone thundered like iron striking stone. "Do you think I haven't read Liangzhou's reports over the years?
"Since the twentieth year of the Longqing Era, the tax records, land rolls, and census ledgers of Liangzhou have never once matched! The extra revenue didn't go to the treasury—so where did it go, Sect Master Shao?
"Later, when His Majesty ordered the planting of Spiritual grain, why were there none in your sect's farmlands? Instead, the commoners had to plant ten percent more to cover your share.
"In years of famine, you bought good land at dirt prices. In years of abundance, you lent out silver at crushing interest. You've robbed and squeezed the people in every way imaginable.
"And now, when the court finally forces you to cough up a fraction of your ill-gotten gain—you act like the heavens have wronged you, and expect the people to thank you for it?!"
Shao Yuqing's pupils flickered, as if those words had struck something deep within him—things he himself had never truly faced.
Still, he gritted his teeth. "General Chen, what you say may be true—but what does that have to do with the Witch God Sect killings? Whatever our faults, you can't ignore our dead!"
"Oh? No connection?" Chen Sanshi shot back. "Weren't you just using these deaths as leverage against the Northern Liang Army a moment ago?"
Shao Yuqing fell silent.
Chen Sanshi's voice turned flat. "We've never said we'd ignore the matter. We simply haven't found the truth yet."
He raised his hand. "Search the mountain!"
At his command, hundreds of soldiers surged forward, stepping through the broken gates of Splitting Moon Manor.
Before, when he'd only been a Thousand-Commander, city patrols were his main duty—investigations like this weren't his to lead.
Now, with authority in hand, he intended to dig until he found answers.
There were too many loose threads—Zhang Huaimin of Dongyi City, the mysterious medicine from Ciyun Temple—none had been resolved.
"General?" one disciple stammered nervously as soldiers entered the courtyard. "What is this about?"
"By order of the Northern Liang Army," Xia Cong declared sternly, "we are investigating the Witch God Sect. One person will stay behind to explain all recent incidents. The rest—clear out!"
After some hesitation, the manor appointed an older cultivator, one of the Four Elders, named Liu Rongquan.
"I greet Lord Chen," Liu Rongquan said respectfully. "May I ask how you intend to investigate?"
Chen Sanshi's tone remained calm. "Within the past four months, how did your disciples die? Where and when did it happen? Were there any abnormalities before their deaths? Tell me everything—clearly and in order."
"Yes, my lord…"
Liu Rongquan began recounting the events in full detail.
The more Chen Sanshi listened, the deeper his frown grew.
These deaths… were indeed bizarre.
Most of the victims had died inside their own sect compounds. They passed silently, without struggle or sound—discovered only the next morning when they failed to appear for roll call.
Every death occurred around midnight, between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.
According to reports, Splitting Moon Manor had implemented strict security measures for the past two years. Patrols ran through all twelve hours of the day, without interruption. Yet, not once had they caught sight of an intruder. People simply died—no trace, no clue, no warning.
"Just last night," said Liu Rongquan, "the Second Young Master also fell victim. His body's still ahead, in that courtyard."
"That's right beside the Master's own quarters?"
Chen Sanshi leapt onto the roof, scanning the layout from above.
"Exactly," Liu Rongquan confirmed. "To prevent accidents, the Master even moved into the neighboring yard."
"That's far too close," Chen Sanshi muttered, measuring the distance. Barely a hundred steps apart.
For a Martial Saint, that was the same as living side by side. Any disturbance—no matter how faint—should have been noticed immediately.
And yet, the son had died right next door, and the father hadn't sensed a thing.
No wonder Wen Zhi had gone mad.
"Let's go."
"Next, the Tiantong Sword Sect."
Soon after, Chen Sanshi led his men to the next sect.
Over the following several days, he personally inspected dozens of sects within and around Liangzhou City. Every case told the same story.
It was eerie—almost unnatural.
The way these disciples died… it was as if they hadn't been killed at all—but had taken their own lives.
"This is truly strange," said Xia Cong, frowning. "Even if the Witch God Sect's leader came in person, there's no way he could kill so silently. And in the last two days, the deaths haven't stopped."
'When something's that unnatural,' Chen Sanshi thought, 'there's always something unearthly behind it.'
He stopped thinking in ordinary terms.
Given what he'd seen before at Ciyun Temple, his suspicions were already forming into shape.
"Heh," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe it's their own karma catching up."
Then aloud: "Xia Cong—go find General Lü. Don't make a scene. Tell him…"
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.
That night.
Splitting Moon Manor.
Wen Zhi had five children in total.
Three of them possessed solid martial talent.
His eldest son, Wen Qiushi—dead.
His second son, Wen Buhua—dead.
Now only his youngest daughter, Wen Chengrui, remained—a Martial Saint–bodied prodigy, the last true heir of Splitting Moon Manor. The other two—one son, one daughter—had weak constitutions and never practiced martial arts.
"Miss!"
"Please, go back inside!"
"Right, leave the mountain search to us!"
"If anything happens to you, the Master will completely lose his mind!"
After much persuasion, the white-robed young woman—scholarly in demeanor, a pair of twin blades hanging at her waist—finally nodded in agreement.
Returning to her courtyard, she found it already ringed with dozens of disciples standing guard.
Creaaak.
Wen Chengrui gently pushed open her chamber door.
For a warrior's room, it was surprisingly refined. Ink paintings hung along the walls; the writing table gleamed with fine brushes, inkstones, and stacks of poetry scrolls.
In the Great Sheng Dynasty, women were forbidden from sitting for the imperial exams. No matter how much they studied, it could only ever be a hobby.
She struck her firefold, lighting a single candle.
The dim flame bathed the room in soft gold.
Wen Chengrui set the candle down beside her desk. Just as her slender hand reached for a brush, her peripheral vision caught movement—someone standing silently in the corner of the room.
Her body froze for an instant. She pretended not to notice, but her right hand slid toward the hilts of her blades while her lips parted to call for help.
Before she could, the shadow raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence.
"You?"
Wen Chengrui's brows drew together. "Chen Sanshi?"
"Don't make a sound," Chen Sanshi said calmly. "Just carry on as usual. Pretend I'm not here."
"They let you in?"
She released her grip on her blade, voice steady again. "You're planning to ambush the Witch God Sect assassin here?"
Chen Sanshi didn't deny it.
"It's useless," she said coolly. Hanging her blades on the rack, she began to grind her ink again. "You're not the first to try. Every time, the result's the same—just one more corpse."
"You Wens shouldn't be hoping for my death, though," he replied, watching the moonlight spill across the floor.
"Why would we hope for your death?"
"Because I killed your brother?"
Wen Chengrui paused, her brush moving evenly over the inkstone. After a moment's thought, she answered softly, "Because you killed my elder brother?"
Chen Sanshi couldn't detect even the slightest hint of hatred in her tone. It caught him off guard. He turned to really look at her—at the woman whose features carried both scholarly grace and martial steel.
"Life and death are the gamble of the ring," she said with a cold half-smile. "And with his temperament, his death spared the world a few troubles."
"Well, I guess all that studying didn't go to waste," Chen Sanshi remarked, though he wasn't sure whether to admire her sense of justice—or to pity how much her brother must have sinned for even his own sister to speak of him that way.
He let it drop.
The room fell silent.
Time passed.
Wen Chengrui followed her usual nightly routine, eventually blowing out the candle and sitting quietly behind her desk.
Two hours went by.
The second watch of the night. Still nothing.
"Seems they won't come tonight," she murmured. "You should—"
Before she could finish, the door creaked open.
A cold gust drifted in.
From the shadows beyond, a figure slipped soundlessly into the room.
Then, bathed in moonlight, the face became clear.
"Father?!"
Wen Chengrui's eyes widened.
It was Wen Zhi himself.
She started to relax—until she saw his expression.
His face was blank, cold as death, eyes empty.
And in his hand… gleamed a vajra pestle, radiating dull golden light.
The motion came faster than thought.
Under the pale moon, a cold gleam slashed through the air—like a dragon bursting from the sea.
Wen Zhi swung the vajra pestle in a brutal arc, smashing down toward the dragon's head.
"Boom!"
True qi surged violently.
The Li Quan Spear in Chen Sanshi's hands let out a wailing hum as the shock tore through his arms. His body was thrown backward uncontrollably, feet gouging a deep trench into the stone floor until his Vajra Body slammed into the wall behind him. Only with the support of his protective gang qi did he manage to steady himself, unharmed but breathless.
'So this… is a Martial Saint?'
It was his first time facing one in battle—and only now did he truly understand the terrifying difference between true qi and gang qi.
They were on completely different planes of existence.
If that strike had landed on an ordinary Minor-Stage Profound Manifestation Realm warrior, they would have been obliterated instantly.
"Father?!"
Wen Chengrui's voice trembled as disbelief washed across her pale face. "It's you… You killed my fellow disciples—and my second brother?"
The answer was plain before her eyes. The vajra pestle in Wen Zhi's hand, his sudden midnight intrusion, and his murderous aura told her everything. But still—she couldn't comprehend it.
A tiger may be cruel, but it does not eat its own cubs.
Yet here he was—slaughtering not only his disciples, but even his own flesh and blood.
Chen Sanshi's heart sank.
His suspicion was confirmed.
All this time, the reason no one could find the killer wasn't because the Witch God Sect was so well-hidden—
but because the murderers were inside the sects themselves.
Not just any members either—
the sect masters themselves!
Only they had the power and access to silently take lives and extract blood within their own compounds without anyone noticing.
"Father… it's me, Chengrui. Don't you recognize me?"
Wen Chengrui's voice wavered as she stepped back, eyes filled with panic at her father's unrecognizing stare.
"Don't bother," Chen Sanshi said quietly. "They're being controlled."
He could see it clearly—inside Wen Zhi's abdomen, a dim mystic glow pulsed and writhed like a living thing. He didn't know what it was, but it was clear—it was the source of the control.
It matched perfectly with what he'd seen at Ciyun Temple—those "elixirs" the sect masters had drunk two years ago.
And now, the same horror was unfolding across every sect in Liangzhou City.
—
Tiantong Sword Sect.
"Master?!"
Lu Shuhua had only just returned from the army camp, intending to pay respects.
But before he could even rest, he awoke in the dead of night to see his master standing over him—vajra pestle in hand, dripping with blood.
"Master—it's me! Shuhua!"
A thunderous figure stepped into the courtyard.
A Fangtian halberd crashed down like a collapsing mountain, meeting the bloodstained sword head-on.
"Boom!"
True qi clashed, erupting into a shockwave like a tidal explosion.
Even standing several zhang away, Lu Shuhua was flung backward, spitting blood.
Two Martial Saints faced off—each staggered back several steps.
"Sect Master Shao," said General Lü Ji, his brows furrowing, "why… why would you attack your own disciple?"
He had rushed over on Chen Sanshi's request to investigate—but never expected to see such madness with his own eyes.
For all this time, the slaughter of sect disciples had been the work of the sect masters themselves.
And it was clear now—they were not in control of their own wills.
Shao Yuqing said nothing. He merely raised his sword again and charged forward, eyes blank, movements mechanical.
—
Splitting Moon Manor.
Rong Yanqiu and Meng Guangxin arrived at the same moment.
One wielded an iron thorn whip, the other a crescent-bladed shovel—striking from both flanks.
"Boom!"
Wen Zhi's twin blades spun in arcs of moonlight, releasing terrifying waves of true qi that sent both of them flying.
A Martial Saint was no opponent an ordinary Profound Manifestation cultivator could contain.
He didn't linger to fight. With a single step, he shot into the air like a thunderbolt.
"Stop him!"
Rong Yanqiu grit her teeth and swung her iron whip downward. It smashed through half a house, sending splinters flying, and her gang qi coiled like a serpent, striking toward Wen Zhi's back.
Wen Zhi turned, his true qi surging forth.
The serpent of gang qi shattered instantly as he appeared in front of Rong Yanqiu in the blink of an eye.
"Senior Sister, look out!"
Chen Sanshi roared, unleashing three layers of gang qi at once, intercepting the blast.
Wen Zhi's eyes twisted with rage, his face contorting into something monstrous. Raising both blades high, he prepared to cut them down before fleeing.
Chen Sanshi's fingers tightened on his spear. He was ready to cast a spell if it came to that.
"Father!"
Wen Chengrui's desperate cry rang out. "What's wrong with you?! Stop this!"
For an instant—
Wen Zhi froze.
The blades in his hands trembled in midair. His whole body convulsed, as if battling some unseen force inside.
And at that very moment—
Two more figures arrived: Third Senior Brother Nie Yuan and Seventh Senior Brother Fang Shuzhen.
"Bang!"
With a thunderous stomp, Wen Zhi shot into the night sky, his voice breaking between agony and sorrow.
"Chen Sanshi!"
"Please—please protect my Splitting Moon Manor's last bloodline!"
"Clatter—"
A thousand armored soldiers stormed into the courtyard, their torches flickering like a rising tide.
"Lord Chen!"
"Bad news, my lord!"
"Signal fires on the Great Wall!"
"Enemy attack!"
"All the sects inside the city are rioting!"
"Liangzhou is in chaos!"