Han Yu took one last glance at the mine and slid back into the shadows, moving fast and silent, the two Spatial Storage Bags now weighing heavily—yet comfortably—inside his robe.
Whatever happened next, one thing was certain.
This mine had just become a battlefield.
And Han Yu had already drawn first blood.
Han Yu crouched low beside one of the large empty crates near the chamber’s entrance, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He slipped a hand into his robe and pulled out a small pouch lined with waxed leather. It was heavy for its size and rattled faintly—a familiar sound by now.
Inside were several of Li Mei’s explosive pills. One’s he had already used before in the caverns under the Broken Fang Ravine and caused a large scale collapse.
Each one was volatile, unstable, and borderline insane for regular use. But for Han Yu? They were perfect. Portable chaos. The alchemist might not have intended them for this particular application, but she’d certainly approve of the effect.
He grinned and reached under a loose wooden lid of one of the boxes stacked directly at the entrance of the mine—likely used to transport ore chunks or excess rubble. He removed the lid with care, placed three of the pills in a triangular pattern on the crate’s bottom, and gently rested a flat spirit stone on top of them to ensure they wouldn’t shift during casual movement.
’I wonder how the pills will react with the spirit stones when they explode.’ Han Yu was almost tempted to wait around and watch but he resisted.
Then, with a bit of flair, he laid the lid back down and lightly kicked a bit of dirt and ore dust over the whole thing.
’There we go...’ he thought, grinning. ’The next person to yank this open or step too hard... BOOM.’
He didn’t even need to stay to enjoy the chaos that would follow. Just the mental image was enough.
He could already see it: a red-faced mining supervisor, stomping back into the chamber to check the inventory, barking orders—only to accidentally trigger the trap and get launched across the mine with a beautiful, arcing silhouette trailing smoke.
Han Yu chuckled quietly to himself.
Slipping into the shadows once more, he returned to the tunnel’s mouth. The two guards who had been posted earlier were nowhere to be seen—no doubt pulled into the frontlines to help deal with the boars and save the precious cargo.
He crouched behind a cart just a few meters from the tunnel’s mouth, waiting like a predator watching a herd. Beyond the entrance, muffled yells echoed through the trees, and the sound of shattering crates and snorting beasts carried clearly through the spiritual mist.
A massive Ironhide Boar tore through the undergrowth like a living siege engine, tusks gouging through tents and wagons, scattering cultivators like terrified ants. One unlucky soul was launched straight into a tree, groaning as he fell limp.
Han Yu burst into motion.
He dashed out of the mine entrance, moving with the precision of someone who had practiced this kind of escape before. With the beast tearing through the camp and everyone either fleeing or fighting, not a single person spared him a glance.
He slipped past two wagons, under a length of canvas, and darted behind a pile of sacks filled with crushed ore. Every step was measured, silent, precise. Even the light padding of his soles seemed to disappear amidst the chaos.
Then came the formation barrier.
He charged straight at it, heart pounding, and passed through without resistance. Unlike incoming intrusions, which the formation could sense and react to, outbound movement wasn’t blocked. He had already seen this when the people here passed through it before.
And just like that, he was out.
He didn’t stop running.
Not for a good three hundred meters into the forest.
Not until the screams and snorts faded behind him, swallowed by the thick brush and distant hills.
He came to a halt near the slope of a moss-covered hill, chest heaving as he crouched behind a boulder. His hands gripped his knees, sweat trailing down the side of his face. His robes were damp and his breath came in sharp bursts.
And then he let out a laugh—short, breathless, and utterly satisfied.
"Hah... haha... haaaa..."
His heart was pounding like a war drum in his chest, but it wasn’t from fear.
The thrill of success. The tension of risk. The satisfaction of not only pulling off a heist but leaving behind a little present for the next unlucky soul.
"Ah... that was beautiful," Han Yu grinned, wiping his brow.
He opened one of the spatial storage bags again, just to check. The boxes were still inside—untouched. The spirit stones shimmered faintly, even now. A dragon’s hoard of qi waiting to be refined or sold.
And back in the mine? Chaos. Explosions. Panic.
Han Yu was practically glowing with satisfaction.
"Murong Xie... good luck explaining that one."
He sat back against the boulder for a moment, letting the adrenaline fade. Then, he pulled out a minor spirit qi replenishing pill, popped it into his mouth, and leaned his head back to stare at the canopy above. Wisps of sunlight filtered through the dense leaves, dancing across his face.
But even as he rested, his thoughts were already churning.
’I need to disappear for a while. Let the dust settle. Then maybe... just maybe... it’s time to start selling some of these ’samples’ under a different name.’
He didn’t trust the regular merchant routes. Not for something . Rare stones—especially Ice Spirit Stones—would catch attention too easily. No, he needed someone discreet, someone with a grudge against the Murong Clan, or at least an interest in undercutting their profits.
He smirked. That shouldn’t be too hard.
The Beast Stampede had bought him a window. His Soul Qi technique had carved an opening. And now... now he had a fortune in spirit stones and something even more valuable: