172: Chapter 171 Token

Teng Yuzhi drew her longsword, its light cold as frost. With a single strike, the heads of three Blood Puppets flew into the air!

Zhao Yuanjing's spear was like a Dragon, the cold glint at the tip flickering. He pierced the skull of a Blood Puppet with one thrust, and with a shake of the spear shaft, the head shattered!

The Heroic Woman struck with both swords simultaneously, their light intersecting to shred the heads of two Blood Puppets into fragments!

The Burly Man danced wildly with his iron hammer; every time it fell, a Blood Puppet was smashed to a pulp, its head pulverized along with it!

Huo Qingfeng's sword technique was fierce; every strike precisely severed a Blood Puppet's head without wasting a shred of True Qi!

As for Jiang Hanzhou—

He stood there, unmoving.

He was watching.

Watching the movements of the Blood Puppets, observing their methods of attack, and noting the changes after they were killed.

Then, he moved.

He raised his right hand.

In his palm, a wisp of crimson-gold flame suddenly appeared!

The flame burned quietly in the night breeze, a faint golden edge of Metal Sharpness flowing along its perimeter. With every flicker, the surrounding air twisted slightly.

He flicked his finger.

That wisp of crimson-gold flame shot out like a falling meteor!

It landed in the midst of the Blood Puppets.

And then—

Boom!!!

The flames exploded!

This was no ordinary flame; it was a crimson-gold fire imbued with the Lihuo True Flame and the Golden Sharpness True Intent!

Wherever the flames passed, the Blood Puppets melted instantly like snow under the scorching sun!

Those Blood Puppets touched by the flames didn't even have time to scream before they turned into a pool of dark red liquid.

And the moment those liquids touched the flames, they were completely evaporated, turning into wisps of black smoke that dissipated into the air.

No bodily fluids splashed, no threads stitched them back together; there was no possibility of resurrection.

Three breaths.

A mere three breaths.

Of the hundred or so Blood Puppets that had swarmed them, at least thirty were incinerated by this single wisp of flame!

The remaining Blood Puppets were finally afraid.

They let out shrill screeches and retreated frantically, receding like the tide and disappearing deep into the dense forest.

Silence returned to the dense forest.

Only the crimson-gold flames continued to burn quietly on a few remains, making a "crackling" sound.

The five of them turned their heads in unison to look at Jiang Hanzhou.

A flash of undisguised shock crossed Huo Qingfeng's eyes.

The Burly Man's eyes widened, his mouth agape wide enough to fit a fist.

The Heroic Woman stood frozen in place, momentarily forgetting the twin swords in her hands.

Zhao Yuanjing took a deep breath, his gaze complex.

Teng Yuzhi looked at him, and for the first time, a certain indescribable light appeared in her cold eyes.

Jiang Hanzhou ignored their gazes.

He simply withdrew his right hand, and the flames in his palm quietly dissipated.

Then, he looked up toward the depths of the dense forest.

"Let's go," he said indifferently. "The demon is inside."

...

The six of them continued deeper.

Passing through the dense forest, the area ahead suddenly opened up.

A massive altar appeared before their eyes.

The altar was circular, about ten zhang in diameter, built from dark black rock, and over a zhang high.

The surface of the altar was carved with dense, intricate Formation patterns.

Those patterns wound and twisted like countless slithering blood snakes, warping, coiling, and intertwining on the rock, eventually converging at the very center of the altar.

At the very center of the altar was a three-zhang square blood pool.

Dark red liquid was churning within the blood pool.

That was not ordinary water, but the genuine article—

Blood.

As the blood churned, it made a "gurgling" sound, and with every churn, an even more intense, pungent stench was released.

Suspended above the blood pool was a corpse.

It was a young man, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with a handsome face, currently with his eyes tightly shut and his complexion as pale as paper.

His limbs were pierced by four black chains, the other ends of which were embedded into the stone pillars at the four corners of the blood pool.

A fist-sized blood hole had been opened in his chest.

Inside the blood hole, a fist-sized heart could be vaguely seen, slowly beating.

The heart was entirely dark red, its surface covered in fine, dense black lines. With every beat, a wisp of dark red light surged from the heart, flowing along the chains into the blood pool.

"Is that... a sacrifice?" Zhao Yuanjing whispered, his voice trembling.

Huo Qingfeng's expression was grim, and he was about to speak—

"No."

Jiang Hanzhou suddenly spoke.

His gaze landed on the face of that "corpse."

That face was as pale as paper, eyes tightly shut.

But Jiang Hanzhou saw it.

He saw that face, at the moment his gaze fell upon it, the corners of its mouth slightly curling into a faint smile.

The smile flashed and vanished, so quickly that it almost made one think it was an illusion.

"He is not dead," Jiang Hanzhou said slowly. "He is—"

Before he could finish his sentence.

The "corpse" suddenly opened its eyes!

Those eyes were completely crimson.

Red like burning flames, red like the churning blood pool, red like the lava in the deepest depths of Hell.

He laughed.

The smile was hideous and crazed.

"Interesting," he said, his voice hoarse and grating. "You actually saw through it."

His gaze landed on Jiang Hanzhou.

"You have the qualifications to become my collection."

Jiang Hanzhou did not reply.

He simply raised his right hand.

In his palm, that wisp of crimson-gold flame appeared once again.

And just at this moment—

His gaze fell upon the ground at the edge of the altar.

There, a broken token lay quietly.

The token was about the size of a palm, broken into two, with only the upper half remaining.

The material was some kind of dark gold metal, its surface engraved with intricate patterns.

In the center of the patterns, two characters were vaguely discernible:

"Sea Quelling."

Sea Quelling Department.

Great Qi Sea Quelling Department.

Jiang Hanzhou's pupils constricted slightly.

The authorities had already been here.

And—

The people who came were likely already dead.