Within the Valley of Blood Banquet, a strange, deathly silence lingered.
The massacre unleashed by Shen Qingyun had, for the moment, subsided as he chose to halt the slaughter.
Those who were fortunate enough to survive clung to this temporary reprieve like drowning men grasping at straws. They threw themselves wholeheartedly into studying the Blood Banquet Art, hoping to quickly unravel its mysteries, gain the power to protect themselves—or even to strike back.
Sitting cross-legged in a pool of blood, Shen Qingyun ignored the fearful stares cast his way.
Lowering his head in thought, he pondered a question.
Why? Why did the one who laid out the Valley of Blood Banquet need one hundred people with the exact same name?
The “same name” gimmick was easy enough to understand.
Such meaningless trickery was a favorite of the demonic sects. They delighted in deceiving mortals rather than simply taking action.
A fabricated promise of “immortal fate” was enough to make countless mortals willingly believe.
Just look at the hundred people gathered here, and the truth was evident.
What Shen Qingyun truly could not understand was the number—one hundred.
If the demonic sect’s true aim was simply to raise Gu, to nurture a single strongest individual,
Then why was the method to break through to the mid-stage of Qi Refinement not placed here?
If from the very beginning they had no intention of allowing him to reach mid-stage, then why gather one hundred people?
Just killing a little over twenty would have been enough to reach the Great Perfection of the third layer of Qi Refinement.
His brows furrowed tighter.
Unless… the method to break through to mid-stage was hidden among these one hundred people.
But what could it be?
No matter how much he thought, Shen Qingyun could not figure it out.
At that very moment, a sudden disturbance broke the eerie stillness of the valley.
He opened his eyes at once and looked over. The source of the commotion was the group of weaklings huddled together for warmth.
And at the center of the chaos—was that very scholar who had first urged everyone to study the technique together.
To make things easier for the group, the scholar had painstakingly copied out the abstruse incantations word by word onto the ground. Yet now, he collapsed before the characters in sheer terror, covering them with his body.
His strange action immediately drew anger.
“Hey! What are you doing? Move aside!”
“Yeah! You’ve read it, and now you won’t let us read? Selfish bastard!”
“I knew it! Nobody’s really that kind!”
From afar, Shen Qingyun understood at once—another had finally realized the true nature of this technique.
A faint, unreadable smile played on his lips as he silently awaited the drama to unfold.
The scholar, lying prone upon the ground, did not rise. Instead, he shielded the writings with his body, clearly unwilling to let anyone else see.
This, of course, only drew more scolding and curses from the others.
“No! It’s not like that!”
The scholar tried to explain, but his words were drowned in their accusations.
When he refused to move, a frail-looking youth stepped forward, impatiently trying to shove him away.
The scholar resisted with all his might. But soon, more joined in, prying him up with many hands.
“Let go of me! Don’t look! Whatever you do, don’t look!”
The scholar struggled frantically, but he was merely a bookish man—how could he possibly resist such force?
In his desperation, his mind went blank. Instinctively, he used the secret he had just gleaned from the technique.
—Blood Banquet Art: Feed upon all things, walk the path of slaughter.
The text recorded not only the flow of qi, but also killing methods.
Though the scholar had no spiritual power, some killing skills required none at all!
Crack!
A chilling snap rang out.
The youth who had first tried to push him suddenly stiffened. His body twisted grotesquely, and he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
At first, in the confusion, no one realized he was dead.
Only after a heartbeat did a scream tear through the air.
“D-dead! He’s dead!”
“He’s not breathing! He’s really dead!”
“You hypocrite! Pretending to be kind, but you’re just another murderer!”
Fingers pointed in rage at the scholar, though no one questioned how he had killed.
“I didn’t! I’m not!”
He tried desperately to deny it, but his blood-soaked hands made his protests ring hollow.
Worse still, from the youth’s corpse, a surge of pure energy flowed into him. Before he could react, it washed through his limbs and bones. An invisible barrier within him shattered.
In that instant, he broke through to the first layer of Qi Refinement!
The crowd sensed his sudden transformation. Though they did not know what it meant, their fear and fury deepened. One man finally snapped, drawing a dagger and charging with a roar:
“Kill him!”
The scholar instinctively raised his hand to push him away.
But he had no idea how much his strength had grown.
Bang!
What he thought a feeble shove exploded against the man’s chest like a hammer blow.
The attacker was hurled through the air, vomiting blood before he even landed—lifeless upon impact.
The scene descended further into chaos. This time, all had seen him kill with their own eyes!
“He’s a demon too!”
“Kill him! Avenge our brother!”
Those who had hidden weapons now drew them, rushing in fury.
But they were still mortals. How could they kill a cultivator?
The scholar, besieged, tried to avoid their attacks without striking back, terrified of killing again. At last, he broke down, shouting in despair:
“Stop attacking me! Stop studying that technique! It’s a demonic art—it only grows stronger through killing!”
“What? A demonic art?”
“I knew it! He’s a monster! To become immortal, he wants to kill us all!”
His plea only convinced them further.
“Quick! Kill him before he grows stronger! Otherwise, none of us will survive!”
Spurred on, the mob grew frenzied. Desperation turned to madness as they hurled themselves at him.
Looking at those who had once studied the technique by his side, who now lunged like devils from hell, the scholar’s last hope shattered.
He raised his head toward the gray sky and roared with boundless bitterness:
“Immortal fate? It’s a trap! A trap, through and through!”
Then, in a final act of defiance, he seized a fallen dagger and slashed it across his own throat.
Blood dyed his scholar’s robe crimson.
As he collapsed, in his final breath, he left one last plea:
“Don’t… don’t study the technique… it’s… a trap…”
But his death did nothing to halt the carnage.
The fragile group he had held together instantly crumbled.
Desire for survival and greed for ascension overcame reason. In the valley, an even bloodier slaughter broke out.
And among them—several who, inspired by his outcry, grasped fragments of the technique.
Each life they claimed strengthened them further. Soon, they stood out like wolves among sheep, reaping lives with brutal ease.
In the Valley of Blood Banquet, choice no longer existed.
To kill, or to be killed—these were the only answers.
No one knew how much time passed before the cries of slaughter finally ebbed.
The valley floor, now a river of blood, held only four standing figures.
Besides Shen Qingyun, the three others had all reached the third layer of Qi Refinement.
They glared at each other with mutual distrust, too evenly matched to risk the first move.
Then, almost simultaneously, their gazes shifted to the fourth.
The one who had remained seated from beginning to end—the calmest, most stable, strongest among them.
Shen Qingyun.
They all understood.
Only by joining forces to eliminate this greatest threat could they hope to decide the final victor among themselves.