627 Blood Beast, Sacred Heart Sect’s Secret Weapon?
At a spirit stone mine, thousands of warriors gathered. The sight of these martial artists was overwhelming, with various factions and allegiances creating a dense, charged atmosphere. The mountain felt like a powder keg, ready to ignite.
From amidst this tension, an elderly warrior with a goatee stepped forward. Despite his simple gray attire, he seemed different from the sect-affiliated martial artists.
“Why not cultivate and mine together?” he suggested. “Spirit stones benefit everyone, whether in the visceral prefecture, blood refinement, or bone pattern realms. With so many spirit stones here, there’s more than enough for everyone. Wouldn’t it be wise to cultivate now and then move on to the next mine?”
His words resonated with many. “He’s right!” someone shouted. “We should cultivate together. If someone breaks the trust, we all act.”
There was a chorus of agreement, and as one, the martial artists began to meditate and cultivate.
However, the peace was short-lived. One of them suddenly turned pale, shouting, “I’ve been poisoned!”
In response, many tried to activate their cultivation techniques to fend off the poison, causing the temperature around the mountain to soar. Some, foreseeing potential threats, had taken antidotes beforehand.
But just as they thought the danger had passed, over a hundred of them spat out blood.
“Don’t activate your blood essence!” someone warned too late. It dawned on them that the poison targeted their blood essence, activated upon stimulation.
Panic ensued, and accusations were thrown, “It was a trap! He tricked us!”
The scene became chaotic, with martial artists collapsing or battling each other. The mountain was soon drenched in blood, with a crimson mist enveloping it. As clashes broke out, the number of casualties skyrocketed.
Watching the chaos from a nearby tree, the goateed elder who had proposed the idea sneered. “Fools.”
“The Supreme One wants the blood guillotine refined. These warriors’ vitality should condense into a perfect drop, right?” Beside the goateed elder, a young man stood with an air of arrogance.
The elder nodded. “Many here are from the three sects and six clans. Their vitality will suffice.”
The young man responded confidently, “We’ll raise ten thousand blood beasts in this secret realm. It’ll be enough against the Qiongqi clan.”
The Sacred Heart Sect was trapped between two foes in Barren State’s north, struggling to progress. Despite the strength of their cult members, the situation was far from ideal. However, the opening of Pingwang county’s secret realm, drawing martial artists from all over, provided them a golden opportunity.
“We can’t let the white-robed king of Qingzhou outdo us. If we fail, our lord won’t be pleased,” the elder said, rising. “Come, it’s time.”
Landing from their perch, they saw fewer than a thousand warriors remaining on the mountain’s peak. The battle’s ferocity was evident in the fallen.
The young man, revealing his crimson robe, declared, “Thank you all for your sacrifices!”
The surviving warriors connected the dots. “Sacred Heart Sect!”
An elder holding prayer beads challenged, “You’re bold to show yourselves. Do you seek death?” But he didn’t make a move.
“You’ll soon know what we’re capable of,” the goateed man replied with a sinister grin.
Boom!
Suddenly, the ground shook, and dust and debris filled the air. As the dust settled, all eyes focused on an unfamiliar object next to the goateed elder.
The prayer-bead-clutching elder gasped. “Is it the Four Great Guardians of the Sacred Heart Sect? Have they dared to breach this realm? Aren’t they afraid we’ll surround and kill them?”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Many considered retreating, fearing the legend of the ‘kings’. Those who had witnessed their power firsthand were even more apprehensive.
However, the goateed elder and the young man appeared just as stunned, exchanging a glance of confusion.
“Did reinforcements come from above?”
“Why wasn’t there any warning?”
“But the precision… It must be,” the two reasoned, cautiously approaching the pit.
Suddenly, an arm shot out, grabbing the goateed man. The scarlet-robed youth swiftly aimed a slash, but missed and stumbled back, his eyes wide in surprise. Before he could fully react, blood sprayed, revealing the goateed elder, his arms skewered through to his chest.
The power of Pingwang’s secret realm was clear: every player was on a level field, with no advantages. No wonder even the mightiest feared to enter.
Whoosh!
The scarlet-robed youth, puzzled, evaded a swift attack, narrowly missing a gash to his face. As the dust settled, a figure in a black robe with blood-red skin emerged from the pit.
“I misjudged. I expected a full body, not just an arm,” Qin Huai reflected.
Surveying the scene, the robed figure advanced, legs unbending. Despite the scarlet-robed youth’s recognition, “We’re on the same side!” he defended desperately, but showed no hesitation, his blade creating a blur of motion.
However, his strikes were futile on Qin Huai, who seemed unaffected by any blows. In moments, a finger, still connected to a blood vein, pierced the scarlet-robed youth’s throat.
The surrounding martial artists stared, speechless. Was this the Sacred Heart Sect’s secret weapon? Ruthlessly taking out one of their own first was very characteristic of the Sacred Heart Sect.