Chapter 459: Earth Pearl: Want a Treasure?

I thought this time we’d save a lot of Future Talismans.

Each Future Talisman is a trump card; this time was a major haul, but unexpected changes occurred at the end. From initial rejection to current delight, the shift was enormous—mainly because the Thousand-Year Earth Pearl can still evolve.

Now it has gained several hundred years more, but this is far from its limit—just the beginning. As long as we defeat the Wolf Lord before us and claim the steppe.

As time passed, the ground gradually cracked, yet the terrifying heat did not ignite wildfires—it burned deeper, hidden fuels instead.

The chieftain’s death did not drive the Flos demons back; instead, the blood of their comrades made them even more frenzied.

Kelog’s hard-earned prestige had vanished after his two defeats at Lu Yuan’s hands.

These three-headed serpent lizards were massive, their heads raised five meters high, easily able to strike soldiers on the city walls.

Three-star and four-star equipment was rarer, obtainable only from treasure chests or elite monsters.

Wang Zhixian still didn’t truly understand this industry—most of what he knew came from Song Encai’s stories, and he hadn’t even researched who the interviewers were before coming.

The Three-Eyed Celestial Clan, an ancient race of the Great Wilds, blessed by heaven and earth, bears a vertical eye on its forehead capable of dispelling illusions, bewitching minds, and wielding formidable power.

Outside the RV of Misfortune Bear, a knock came at the door. When opened, an alien tumbled inside.

Xu Xing seemed to have forgotten the heat and exhaustion; by the end, he was even working shirtless.

“Does it hurt?” Sensing the sorrow in Xing Yue’s voice, Zhou Yi changed the subject. His fingers never left Xing Yue’s body, gently tracing over it, as if caressing a peerless treasure.

Jian Zixuan hadn’t expected the Black Wind Python to be so enormous. His expression twisted as he wrestled with whether to stay or flee—they were no match for it, and he didn’t know if feeding it food would even work.

In a flash, Zhuo Tian gathered all the spiritual energy around him into the Wenti Sword, amplifying the technique of pointing the blade toward heaven with spatial primordial energy to an unprecedented height.

Seeing Huo Yu Long and Ling Xiang leave, Cui He and Yang Yi hurried to Qing Binghe’s side, curiously observing her—especially Yang Yi, who rubbed his eyes, looking as if he wanted to touch her but dared not, his expression comical.

“Finger Sword”—just as he wiped sweat and caught his breath, a searing pain erupted from his back. A chilling unease engulfed him, sending shivers down his spine.

The dragon roared endlessly. It was merely a gas—no means of resistance. Its divine radiance dimmed instantly. For the dragon race, it aided their cultivation. For the human race, it was used to master engraving.

Zi Xuan stepped forward first, grabbing Ling Luo’s hand without hesitation, her eyes brimming with tender worry.

The figure was none other than Wang Kaitun. A crimson palm print now marred his right cheek, radiating intense shame, indignation, and defiance. His eyes rolled back, and he fainted from rage.

“Oh dear, don’t worry—I was just scaring him. Yang Yi’s a troublemaker if you don’t scare him. You don’t really think that willpower would just pop out if nothing happened, do you? Damn, I slipped into her speech habit again. If I keep this up, it won’t be good.” Qing Binghe chuckled, sitting down on the nearby steps.

Li Shang frowned. He felt the man’s eyes were familiar, as if he’d met him before.

Without considering whether danger might arise, Ling Feng resolved to claim the sword for himself. He locked his mind onto the silver coffin, sensed no aura within, and walked forward slowly.

This was the center of countless statues in this world—every thought and prayer from every corner of the land ultimately converged upon this statue.