Chapter 43: Chapter Forty-Three: The Second Kill

He set aside the matter with Hei Chi and returned to this familiar place.

With prior experience, Pei Ye stepped forward first, looked up, and saw the beads above had grown deeper and larger.

Watching the other enter from the opposite side, the fluid within him surged again—this time far more violent—and Pei Ye suddenly had a strange thought: if he slit his veins now, would he bleed dark blue?

There was no time for further contemplation; the two opponents, facing each other, completed their “armament” in an instant and lunged at one another with fury.

To survive one more hour, to claim that noble seed, both must kill the opponent before them.

The opponent’s unusually long limbs now proved their utility—he moved on all fours, like a spider or a flea, his trajectory utterly unlike that of a bipedal human; his hands served as feet, his feet as hands, leaving Pei Ye deeply unsettled.

After enduring a “kick” to his arm, Pei Ye unhesitatingly activated Chunshou.

It was his trusted skill for evading danger, precious beyond measure and meant to be saved for later—but if he died here, there would be no future to consider.

With Chunshou lavishly enhancing him, the opponent’s movements were systematically dismantled. This ability, inherited from the Heavenly Official Chun Bird, remained as potent as ever—not only granting overwhelming advantage within the same realm, Pei Ye even suspected it could sustain a cross-rank kill of Seven Lives against Eight Lives.

Unfortunately, Pei Ye had faced absurdly powerful foes these past days, rendering Chunshou dim and unremarkable since emerging from the wine cellar.

Now, facing an evenly matched battle, it displayed the effortless precision of a butcher dissecting an ox; after familiarizing himself with the opponent’s habits, Pei Ye guided his attack aside and delivered a precise, brutal kick that shattered the man’s tibia.

A legless spider, a crippled flea—facing such an injury, victory followed naturally.

Pei Ye watched the tentacles extending from his abdomen feast once more on the opponent’s belly, and sighed.

Chunshou is truly useful—its only flaw is its short duration.

After the third stage, the fluid available for control doubled again; Pei Ye now felt more acutely that his own “Qi” was roughly equal to Lin Lin’s, equivalent to a normal martial cultivator’s Pulse Tree Fifth Life.

The light cocoon also grew more intricate and profound, drawing closer to maturity.

Pei Ye speculated on the Candle World Sect’s intentions: after the final host is born, it must merge with the seed—and that seed now resides on Qiongqi.

Hei Chi said Qiongqi’s behavior was nothing like a normal Immortal Hunter—could those erratic leaps in power and uncanny, hard-to-defend abilities stem from this seed?

But Qiongqi also uses an un-hatched version of it; when the seed enters the light cocoon and hatches, who will the Candle World Sect command it through? And how will they command it?

A single term suddenly flashed through Pei Ye’s mind—he drew a sharp breath.

It was that cool, melodious female voice.

“Has any book or wondrous martial art been rumored in your region?”

“It may be called the ‘Method of Planting an Immortal in the Dantian.’”

Pei Ye pondered the connections among these pieces of information, and on the return journey, he again spotted traces left by Zhu Gaoyang.

More urgent than the Candle World Sect’s grand scheme was the question of when Zhu Gaoyang would arrive—his arrival bore directly on Pei Ye’s own survival.

Pei Ye placed himself in Zhu Gaoyang’s perspective, wondering how he would sabotage the Candle World Sect’s plan.

He would inevitably target either the seed or the light cocoon—kill Qiongqi, or destroy the cocoon.

Killing Qiongqi goes without saying; if coming to this valley, arriving too early or too late was unsuitable—too early, and the cocoon was scattered among many, hard to manipulate; too late, and he’d simply watch the Candle World Sect succeed.

The ideal moment would be between the final duel and the fusion of cocoon and seed.

The key to success would lie in how well the Candle World Sect anticipated his arrival, and how much power he could still unleash while gravely wounded.

The number of people remaining in the cave had dwindled; only three more rounds would determine the final host, and each subsequent round would grow faster—perhaps Zhu Gaoyang would arrive before dawn.

This was the lifeline Zhang Siche had told him about.

If Zhu Gaoyang did not come, Pei Ye would have to gamble everything—bet his life.

In the past few hours, Pei Ye had not merely listened to stories. Rather than wait passively for death, he preferred a desperate gamble.

A stab in the back to the light cocoon inside his own abdomen.

At the moment of final battle, he would lie down and feign death, letting the opponent consume the cocoon, then rely on the immense vitality granted by Hei Chi to attempt survival.

If, after the black-robed figure departed with the victor, the floating light bead above the arena had not yet absorbed him, he would have survived—because he had become a dead man.

Pei Ye had quietly observed during his two previous visits: no additional guards patrolled the perimeter of this place.

Of course, this plan contained too many uncontrollable variables—fate outweighed human effort—hence, it was a desperate gamble.

…

“【Twenty-Four Wins】—next pair: 【Twenty-Six, Twenty-Eight】.”

Pei Ye returned to his familiar seat and took Zhang Siche’s hand, writing on his palm: “What if Zhu Gaoyang doesn’t come?”

Zhang Siche looked at him and whispered: “You misspelled three of the seven characters.”

“...” Pei Ye, stung with embarrassment, turned to watch the next pair leave.

“Zhu Gaoyang will definitely come,” Zhang Siche said.

Pei Ye wrote again: “Why are you so certain?”

Zhang Siche looked at him, his expression conflicted for a moment, then said: “Can I trust you?”

Pei Ye nodded as if it were obvious.

“Fine. I’ll tell you—because he told me so himself.”

“?!”

“When Zhu Gaoyang arrived, I was just captured and brought into this valley. He had already killed a purple-robed one, drenched in blood, being chased by two purple-robed hunters. When he saw me, he casually slew the black-robed guard holding me, grabbed me, and tried to take me with him. But he didn’t have time—the two purple-robed ones came too fast.”

“Then how did he escape?”

Zhang Siche looked at him with mild disbelief: “You really have no Jianshi at all.”

“?”

“The famed divine technique from Dragon Jun’s Dongting ‘Yi Long Jing’—‘Ling Ming Zhao Shi Fu Chen Wu Ju’—you’ve never heard of it?”

“?”

“This technique allows a person to teleport a hundred li in a single breath—but the more people involved, the longer the preparation. So Zhu Gaoyang only had time to save himself, not me.”

“Hmm...”

“Aren’t you curious how I can whisper-communicate, when my Qi should have been fully consumed?” Zhang Siche asked himself. “That Qi was given to me by Zhu Gaoyang—he said he’d return.”

“Why give you Qi?”

“Because he left me a magical artifact.”

“?!”

“Shh! I’ve just revealed everything I have,” Zhang Siche glanced around subtly. “This artifact can protect both of us briefly—just wait for Zhu Gaoyang to rescue us. Until then, absolutely do not act on your own.”