Lulu Gan knew better than anyone that those pointless recruit rules only painted targets on their backs. In wilderness reconnaissance, they were fatal flaws.

  She had no taste for vulnerability—and even less for entrusting her life to the weak.

  Seeing sparks of understanding in their eyes, she dismissed the thunder essence. The dagger—spotless—vanished into her sleeve in a heartbeat.

  From her leather pouch she produced vial after vial of oddities, until she held up a jar containing two grotesque insects. A triumphant grin spread across her face.

  “Bone-eaters! Boss… where did you get those? Those are Deacon Lan’s prized pets!”

  At Qiang Wu’s shocked outburst, Lulu rolled her eyes. She tipped the jar. Two wrinkled, blackened creatures unfurled iridescent wings like shattered butterflies and descended on the scout leader’s corpse.

  “Prized? Out here, these are more reliable than any of you. I just hope you don’t hold me back from promotion. I, Lulu Gan, don’t keep fools for company.”

  “Boss, ease up on the beatdowns,” Mei Wu grumbled. “You’re the veteran here. We haven’t even seen real battle and you’ve already crushed what little confidence we had.”

  Lulu seized Mei Wu’s hand in mock flirtation.

  “Beautiful Mei Wu—if you can’t handle this pressure, surpassing me is just a dream.”

  Her voice was low, but the barb struck deep. Mei Wu roared in frustration, stormed off, and hurled a boulder far into the trees.

  “That sharp tongue of yours… when I pass you, I’ll tear it out!”

  Lulu’s wicked smile never wavered. She watched impassively as the bone-eaters sprayed powder and viscous fluid. The sizzle of dissolving flesh filled the air. No pity stirred in her.

  “I don’t care what rank you hold back at camp. Hear me once: drag me down, and I have ways to make you disappear forever.”

  She shook two vials—one the long-missing demonic toxin powder, the other a glowing unknown liquid.

  Her teammates stared, speechless. No one had expected the Gan family prodigy to shed her polished facade so completely outside the walls. Fear crept into their admiration.

  “Dust to dust,” Lulu commanded the insects. In moments the body crumbled to ash. Strands of lingering essence drifted into the creatures, absorbed. A breeze scattered the remains; the sated bone-eaters waddled back to their jar.

  “Uh… Boss?” Mei Wu ventured, now gazing at Lulu like an oversized fangirl. “What’s the next step?”

  “No plan is the best plan. Probes like him are bait. If we hadn’t killed him, someone else would have.”

  Lulu glanced toward hidden watchers—scout tactics she had mastered five years ago.

  “The trade gates close soon. We join a caravan out.”

  At her order, the team jogged back to the commercial district.

  “That girl’s methods are deadlier than yours,” one captain murmured as Thunder Eagle vanished. “The scout regiment has a worthy successor.”

  “She inherited Fei Yuan’s lessons,” Deacon Lan replied. “Despair is the cruelest teacher. That Evil Cultivator war five years ago changed many.”

  He rummaged in his pocket for his bone-eaters—then recalled Lulu’s jar and smacked his forehead.

  “Careless. She got me again.”

  Yet his smile was fond as he watched the youths lead horses into the departing caravan.

  “But… I kept a backup.”

  He produced a new jar—two much smaller insects inside.

  Atop the walls, Ning Guo scanned outgoing cargo with her electronic eye, drones flitting over every crate.

  Green tags flashed—familiar names. She spotted the youths: her twins trailing Lulu, each leading a laden steed, blending seamlessly into the merchants.

  Thunder Eagle caught sight of her drone. They exchanged knowing smiles. Mei Wu and Qiang Wu waved as the caravan crossed the steel bridge.

  “Return victorious,” Ning Guo whispered, wiping her eye. She pulled the lever. The bridge rose; water-essence beasts churned the moat below.

  Beyond the gates lay true wilderness. Merchants in fine robes boarded magical vehicles and soared away on flyers.

  Thunder Eagle watched the caravans scatter—some pitching tents, others claiming territory. Beyond the walls, lines were drawn sharp and hostile. No camaraderie remained.

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  “Master—the sun’s up!”

  Yan Tang snored on his stone bed. At Timo’s call, he stirred groggily, bleary-eyed and wine-flushed.

  The inner wall was scarred with haphazard carvings. He clutched his head, piecing together last night’s drunken songs—Fire Essence anthems scratched in stone.

  “Not a dream?”

  He tugged his tongue—still there. Laughter burst from him, wild and unrestrained.

  Twice in his life he had known such joy: his wedding day, and yesterday, when speech returned. Even his children’s births had not matched it.

  “Master…”

  Timo had called several times, voice drawn out in boredom as he flipped through the books.

  Yan Tang sobered, sensing the warmer air. Sun high.

  “This late already? If last night was real, the battle was too. Wonder what’s out there now.”

  He rolled from bed, vitality surging through healed channels. He felt thirty years younger.

  “Master—you’re finally awake! Feiyu and I already ate lunch. Open up—we want out!”

  Timo, clad in fish-scale armor, spun the Blazing Chain Lance with eager flair.

  “I learned some body techniques too. Want to test them!”

  Yan Tang cleared his throat, composing himself.

  “Last night’s clash was no small thing. Stay cautious outside. I’ll guard you from the entrance.”

  The stone parted.

  Master, disciple, and Feiyu stepped out—and fell silent at the sight.

  The cavern once hidden in primeval forest had risen to the surface.

  A colossal ancient complex towered before them. Figures darted in and out of the sky.

  Everywhere, the earth bore deep gouges—as though a cataclysmic quake had reshaped the world.

  Closer inspection revealed the gouges brimming with seawater. Sea demon corpses lay scattered across the ground—some still locked in desperate combat, their dying roars echoing faintly.

  Along the new coastline, jagged earth spikes had erupted overnight, resembling the monstrous fangs of nightmare sea demons. Beneath them, bodies piled in countless heaps.

  Starved magical beasts prowled the mists, tearing into the dead with wet crunches and sharp snaps.

  The scene was grotesque, yet Timo Yang sensed an extraordinary energy permeating everything. His vision caught drifting wisps of white essence.

  With each sea demon’s final breath, a vaporous strand rose from its body like steam.

  The fallen essence cultivators released the same—pure, ownerless spiritual essence.

  Feiyu’s eyes widened at the carnage. Sea demon hearts beckoned irresistibly. It vanished in a blur.

  Darting across the battlefield, it descended on dying demons. Claws flashed; hearts were torn free, green fluid squeezed out. It devoured one after another in ravenous delight.

  “A gift from the heavens!” Yan Tang’s voice rang clear. “Boy—absorb the unbound essence before it disperses into the world!”

  “Yes, Master!”

  To any essence cultivator, this was a feast beyond imagining. The stray essence sent Yan Tang’s pulse racing. He summoned wind and vanished into the fog.

  Weaving through the haze, he followed the clash of battle. Without hesitation, earthen essence flared; demon heads rolled.

  He pulled a gravely wounded, short-statured cultivator from death’s edge. The man’s body was riddled with wounds; fallen comrades lay everywhere.

  As the cultivator closed his eyes to fate, spiritual stones rose from Yan Tang’s robes, drinking deeply of the ambient essence. He had never dreamed they could serve this purpose.

  Timo, brushing the unbound essence, felt his hunger for power ignite. He pursued Feiyu—then froze.

  “Die!”

  A shrill sea demon screech nearly shattered his reason.

  He focused. Feiyu watched from cover.

  Ahead, in a ravine, corpses floated on seawater.

  An elderly tri-elemental cultivator—white-haired, hovering—unleashed overwhelming ice essence, freezing a nightmare sea demon and two humanoids solid.

  “Kill him!”

  The trapped demons shrieked again, mistaking Timo and Feiyu in their fish-scale garb for allies.

  The icy aura was too vast. Feiyu cowered behind rock until silence fell.

  Timo watched ice spears pierce the demons. They died without a struggle. He felt no urge to intervene.

  The towering, scarred cultivator burned his spiritual root in a final blaze, collapsing onto the ice.

  Timo’s craving peaked, yet he refused to harm the innocent. He approached the elder.

  “I die… without regret…”

  The old man braced for death at the sight of two fish-shadowed figures.

  Timo removed his scaled hood, revealing a human face. He knelt to tend the wounds—black blood flowed unchecked.

  “Poison mist everywhere… beware…”

  As the elder spoke, Feiyu bounded over.

  “Careful—”

  Timo smiled faintly at the man’s alarm.

  “He’s my brother. It’s all right.”

  Feiyu ignored them, rushing to thrashing demons. Glowing hearts torn free, devoured clean.

  Even a dying humanoid fell to its claws. Feiyu reveled in the feast.

  “Good child…”

  The elder sighed, eyes closing. In that moment, white essence detached from his body—flowing into Timo.

  Human essence flooded him. The Devouring Spirit Heart ignited. Reason slipped; he rose uncontrollably into the air.

  Crimson waves pulsed outward. Feiyu sensed the danger and fled.

  The red energy sought living and dead alike—animal, plant, essence cultivator—devouring all spiritual essence within reach.

  Sea demons scattered in panic. Cultivators retreated to the sanctuary.

  Yan Tang, admiring filled spiritual stones, saw the familiar crimson glow. He braced against rock and retreated into the cave.

  As screams faded, the red light contracted, surging back into Timo.

  He hovered, eyes blood-red, roaring as vital channels expanded—threads of power threading every cell.

  Atop the sanctuary’s highest platform, the Lord and his Elders watched.

  “My Lord—that boy bears the Spirit Essence Empire’s royal blood. We can groom him, crown a new sovereign.”

  From the tower, the Lord observed Timo—and Feiyu glutting on demon hearts.

  “The rules of survival above have changed. How long can we endure? Yet I do need him. Once he absorbs this unbound essence, I will aid his breakthrough.”

  Yan Tang returned to guard his disciple from afar—then felt the sea tremble.

  The Lord of the Black Sea stirred dark clouds anew.

  Black thunderheads rolled inland.

  Yan Tang summoned fierce winds, drawing mist to the surface.

  But one man’s power paled against the legions of snarling humanoids massing on reefs, drawn by blood and essence.

  As deafening roars neared the shore, the Elder led warriors to the beach.

  They poured collective essence skyward. Sunlight pierced the clouds, tearing them apart—forming a stark boundary of light and shadow.

  A final roar.

  The crimson light collapsed. Timo descended amid a field of desiccated husks.

  Mist scattered. For nearly a kilometer, grass withered, life extinguished.

  In that instant, Feiyu saw its brother as divine. Swallowing the last demon heart, it stood frozen in awe.

  Timo regained calm—transformed, reborn. He had not become a monster.

  Ears pricked, he heard everything: hidden demons gliding through water, even Yan Tang’s anxious heartbeat.

  His sight pierced beyond flesh—into sea demon minds, glimpsing the Lord of the Black Sea atop a colossal vessel.

  Consciousness shifted—to a fear-wolf, turning to see its alpha surveying the battle from a mountaintop.

  Then upward—to a bird perched on the sanctuary spire, beholding the Lord, his Elders, and the arrayed cultivators watching from the towers.

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