73: Chapter 73 The Myriad Demon Records

This escape lasted for half a month.

During this half-month, he neither slept nor rested.

As the flying boat's Formation Plate exhausted Spirit Stones time and again, he repeatedly threw in new ones. The stock in his Storage Pouch decreased at a rate visible to the naked eye, but he felt no heartache at all. As long as he could escape, as long as he could shake off that Foundation Establishment Late Stage Cultivator, everything would be worth it.

But he remained constantly uneasy.

Clearly, the opponent was only at the Foundation Establishment Late Stage; clearly, that Third-grade flight talisman had carried him over ten thousand miles away; clearly, he had changed directions and circled around several times over the past half-month—yet he still felt uneasy.

It was as if something was constantly trailing behind him.

As if a pair of eyes were constantly watching him from the shadows.

He looked back from time to time, his Divine Sense sweeping over the empty sky behind him repeatedly, but he could find nothing. He began to suspect that he was just too tense and was imagining things.

Half a month later.

The flying boat finally came to a stop.

The last Spirit Stone in the Formation Plate was exhausted, and the glow of the entire flying boat dimmed as it slowly landed on the summit of a barren mountain. The Grey-robed man stumbled out of the flying boat, his legs so weak he could barely stand.

His spiritual power was completely depleted.

His Dantian was empty; he couldn't squeeze out even a sliver of True Qi. Half a month of non-stop flight had drained his body to its absolute limit.

He looked around.

Barren mountains, strange rocks, and pale moonlight. There was no sign of people, no presence of life, not even the traces of a Yao Beast.

"Whew..."

He let out a long breath and slumped onto the ground.

A remote wilderness, far from any human habitation. This place should finally be safe, right?

He reached into his robe and felt those dozen or so Top-Grade Spirit Stones—they were still there, all of them. The cold touch put his mind at ease, and a smile once again crept onto his face.

At that very instant—

A voice rang out by his ear.

"Finally willing to stop?"

The voice was unhurried, even carrying a hint of laziness, as if greeting an old friend after a long separation.

The Grey-robed man's smile froze on his face.

"I thought you were going to fly for another half-month," the voice continued. "What, were you unwilling to use the Top-Grade Spirit Stones?"

The Grey-robed man bolted upright, his hair standing on end!

He opened his mouth, wanting to shout something, but not a single word could come out—

Above the heavens, purple light suddenly flashed.

Several bolts of purple lightning struck down from the Void Realm, each as thick as an arm, with runes flowing upon them and a majestic thunderous power. They tore through the night sky, illuminating the entire barren mountain, and slammed into the Grey-robed man with an aura of total destruction!

Boom—!

His protective Qi shattered instantly like paper, failing to hold for even a single breath. The Grey-robed man was sent flying, crashing into a giant boulder ten yards away, which promptly shattered into pieces.

He spat out a large mouthful of blood, the robes on his chest charred black. But he didn't die after all—a jade pendant at his waist crumbled into powder; it was his last-resort protective Magical Artifact, which had blocked the fatal blow for him.

He struggled to crawl up, his Divine Sense frantically scanning the surroundings.

There was no one.

No presence, no figure, nothing at all.

Only the pale moonlight and the silent mountain ridges.

The Grey-robed man's pupils constricted violently.

"Who... Who! Come out! Get out here!"

He screamed hoarsely, his voice echoing through the mountains, but there was no response.

His whole body trembled, confusion and fear flashing in his eyes.

No one?

How could there be no one?

That lightning... where did that lightning come from?

Was he so exhausted that he was hallucinating? Had his unstable state of mind summoned a Heart Demon?

He had heard that if a Cultivator lost control of their mind or their obsessions became too deep, they could sometimes attract an invasion by a Heart Demon. Heart Demons were formless and intangible, yet they could manifest all sorts of terrifying visions to erode a person's sanity.

"Heart Demon... it's a Heart Demon..."

He murmured, his eyes gradually losing focus.

Just then—

Above the heavens, the purple light rose again.

This time, there were eight bolts.

Eight bolts of purple lightning descended from the sky, thicker and more violent than before. They wove together into a net of lightning, descending to envelop the Grey-robed man within.

"No—!"

The Grey-robed man shrieked in agony, exhausting his last sliver of spiritual power to prop up a shield. But that shield was as thin as a cicada's wing and didn't last even a single breath before the lightning, shattering with a boom.

Eight bolts of lightning slammed into him simultaneously.

Blood splattered.

His body was swallowed by the lightning. Amidst violent convulsions, his life force rapidly ebbed away. He wanted to scream, but could make no sound; he wanted to run, but could not move his legs. He could only watch helplessly as his flesh was charred, cracked, and turned to ash by the lightning.

Three breaths later, the lightning dissipated.

The Grey-robed man's corpse lay among the rubble, charred like charcoal, eyes wide open, dying with grievances.

Within the Void Realm, a figure slowly emerged.

Yun Ming, treading upon his taiqing wanderer, drifted down from a height of a hundred yards. He looked down at the charred corpse, his expression calm.

He raised his hand with a beckoning motion, and a Storage Pouch flew up from the corpse into his palm. His Divine Sense swept inside—those dozen or so Top-Grade Spirit Stones were lying safely within, along with quite a few miscellaneous items.

The corners of Yun Ming's mouth curled up slightly.

"Even after fleeing for half a month, you still weren't willing to use the Top-Grade Spirit Stones." He shook his head. "Your life is gone; what's the use of keeping Spirit Stones?"

He tucked the Storage Pouch into his robe, looked at the charred corpse once more, and casually performed a hand seal. A flame descended, incinerating the corpse into ash.

As the wind blew, the ashes scattered into the mountains, leaving nothing behind.

Yun Ming raised his hand, and the black flying boat, which had shrunk back to the size of a palm, flew from the rubble into his hand.

The boat felt slightly cool to the touch. The black wood was covered in fine formation runes. Although their full extent couldn't be seen clearly under the moonlight, he could feel the residual spiritual power fluctuations within those lines as his fingertips brushed over them. He turned the flying boat over several times, already having a plan in mind.

Although this boat's grade wasn't high—likely only a Medium Grade second-tier Spiritual Artifact—it was practical and quite valuable.

Yun Ming guessed that most of the Spirit Stones this man had earned from reselling Crimson-Feathered Luans had been spent on this spiritual boat.

While taiqing wanderer was fast, it was ultimately just a cloud. It was more than enough to carry himself, but it would be strained if he needed to take others. This flying boat, however, was three yards long with a spacious cabin; it wouldn't be a problem for seven or eight people to sit inside. In the future, if he had the chance to travel with his mother and Er Ya, or with companions, this thing would come in handy.

The only pity was the speed. Compared to the near-teleportation speed of taiqing wanderer, this flying boat was as slow as a crawling turtle—but being slow had its benefits: it saved effort.

Like that Grey-robed man just now, one only needed to put in Spirit Stones for the flying boat to fly on its own, consuming almost none of one's own spiritual power. If that man hadn't personally used his own Qi to accelerate for the sake of speed, he wouldn't have drained himself dry in half a month.

Yun Ming put the flying boat into his naxu ring and then took out the Grey-robed man's Storage Pouch, his Divine Sense carefully looking through it.

After a long while, he shook his head.

The rest of this man's belongings were pitifully meager; one could only say that there were indeed levels of difference even among Loose Cultivators.

A pile of Low-Grade Spirit Stones, totaling no more than a few thousand; several first-tier Magical Artifacts, rusted and unlikely to be wanted even at a market stall; a few bottles of Medicinal Pills, all low-tier goods like spring return pills and yangqi pills; and some miscellaneous Materials and Talismans, all of which were items below the second tier.

In the entire Storage Pouch, the only thing that caught Yun Ming's eye was an ancient book made of beast hide.

The book was about two fingers thick. The cover was made from the tanned hide of some kind of Yao Beast, feeling rough and tough to the touch, and emitting a faint fishy smell. There were no words on the cover, but upon flipping to the first page, he saw several lines of handwritten ink characters—

ten thousand demons manual