203: Chapter 203 Using one wolf to devour another, killing with a borrowed knife

At the bottom of the giant pit, Lin Qi waited for a dozen seconds.

The dark red mist above remained motionless, not making a single sound.

"Fine then."

He gave a cold sneer and withdrew his gaze from above.

Not coming out? Then keep hiding.

It wasn't like he was so bored that he had to play a staring contest with the air.

The blood crystal in his hand was still pulsing rhythmically, warm energy seeping into his palm. The bones of his Prototype Golden Body were humming inside him, like a dog that hadn't eaten for three days catching the scent of a meaty bone.

Eat first, kill the snake later.

Distinguishing between priorities was a basic quality of an adult.

Lin Qi sat cross-legged, clutched the crystal tightly in both palms, and closed his eyes.

Blood Moving Technique, activate.

The True Qi in his body transformed into countless tiny drainage channels, spreading out along his Meridians to begin drawing in the scalding blood energy from the crystal's surface.

It was quite gentle at first.

It felt warm and cozy, like soaking in a hot spring; it was so comfortable that Lin Qi almost groaned aloud.

Then.

The energy turned hostile.

It changed faster than flipping a page in a book.

A violent, explosive torrent of scalding energy surged from his palms into his body. It immediately felt as if someone had poured lava into his Meridians, burning all the way from his fingertips to his spine.

"Hmph!"

Lin Qi let out a muffled groan, and a layer of fine sweat beads instantly broke out on his forehead.

Good grief.

The potency of this stuff was more than a level higher than he had estimated.

Ten-Thousand-Year Dragon Blood Essence, compressed by tenfold gravity for countless eons into this state—it would be a miracle if it were gentle. He thought it was mineral water, but it turned out to be a pot of sixty-degree firewater.

The speed of the Blood Moving Technique was immediately pushed to its limit.

True Qi formed dikes, desperately guiding the violent energy that was rampaging through his Meridians toward his bones.

As if sensing a tonic soup, the gold leaf on the Prototype Golden Body's bones hummed even more intensely, greedily devouring every wisp of incoming blood essence.

Did it hurt?

It hurt so much his back teeth were chattering.

Did it feel good?

It felt so good his scalp went numb.

Hurting and feeling good at the same time—how to describe it? It was probably like eating the spiciest snack and then chugging a bottle of ice-cold cola; his internal organs were burning and freezing simultaneously.

White steam began to rise from the surface of Lin Qi's skin, and visible heat waves distorted the air around him.

He looked like a human-shaped steamed bun just pulled out of a steamer.

This process allowed for no mistakes.

He had to devote at least seventy percent of his focus to suppressing and guiding this power that threatened to burst his Meridians.

If something went wrong, his Meridians would explode, turning him into a human firecracker on the spot.

That would be way too embarrassing.

The sensing range of his Martial Intent Insight shrank from several hundred meters to less than thirty.

He couldn't worry about what was happening above the pit for the time being.

...

And above.

On the bone battlefield of the wasteland, the atmosphere was quietly changing.

Among the Li family dead soldiers that Lin Qi had dismantled into parts, there were still a dozen or so whose injuries weren't that thorough. Those with broken hands, dislocated joints, or a few cracked ribs—though no longer perfect products—could at least still stand and breathe.

The leader was a middle-aged man with a face full of rough flesh.

The Dead Soldier Captain, a veteran killer at the Peak of the Third-Turn.

When Lin Qi attacked earlier, this guy had reacted the fastest, immediately retreating to the back row and only taking the brunt of the aftershocks. His left arm was dislocated and two ribs were broken, but no vital organs were hit.

With a single hand, he snapped his left arm back into place with a 'crack.' His features contorted in pain, the wrinkles on his face deep enough to crush a fly.

Then he began to count heads.

Out of thirty-six elite dead soldiers, thirteen could still breathe and stand.

Among them, about seven or eight could still fight.

Go against that monster again with just these people?

The image of being smashed into powder by a single shoulder strike automatically replayed in his mind.

Forget it, time for a different approach.

But not going wasn't an option either.

The consequences of mission failure were worse than dying here. In the words of that old geezer Li Qingcang: either bring back Lin Qi's head, or the whole family goes to the Yellow Springs together.

The Dead Soldier Captain wiped the blood from his face, his gloomy eyes slowly scanning the surroundings.

Finally, they landed on the group of Prodigies shivering behind the dragon bones not far away.

Tools—here they come.

"Move."

He waved a hand to the subordinates behind him.

The seven or eight dead soldiers who could still move followed him, walking straight toward Xiao Kuangyun's group.

Xiao Kuangyun was the first to see them, and his stomach started churning again.

"Holy crap, what are they coming over for?!"

Han Qianchi also saw them and instinctively took half a step back, raising both hands in a defensive stance.

Though this stance, without the boost of skills, was probably not much different from a primary schooler's fight.

The other Prodigies were even worse, pushing and shoving each other as they shrank back. One with weak legs simply plopped onto the ground.

The Dead Soldier Captain walked up to them and stopped.

He didn't attack.

Instead, he pulled out several palm-sized porcelain vials from his robe. The vials were solid black, engraved with dense silver patterns.

As soon as a stopper was twisted open, a pungent, cloying scent wafted out.

A special toxic potion of the Li family.

This thing didn't rely on System calculations; it was a physical product of chemistry and alchemy. The Dragon Tomb had sealed all digitized elements, but this kind of old-school poison could still kill.

"Dear Prodigies."

The Dead Soldier Captain spoke, his voice as raspy as sandpaper, every word carrying a scent of blood.

"I give you two choices."

He pushed several porcelain vials forward.

"First, drink this. Then follow me to do one thing. Once it's done, I'll give you the antidote, and we'll go our separate ways as if nothing happened."

Xiao Kuangyun's face turned green. "Do what?"

The corner of the Dead Soldier Captain's mouth twitched.

"Besiege and kill Lin Qi."

As soon as those four words came out.

The brains of all the Prodigies collectively froze for half a second.

Besiege and kill Lin Qi.

The same Lin Qi who smashed a refined steel shield formation with his shoulder.

The same Lin Qi who crushed human bones with his fingers.

The same Lin Qi who took more than thirty of your elites apart like Legos.

Are you serious?

Xiao Kuangyun's mouth opened and closed, closed and opened, exactly like a fish out of water.

"Then... then what's the second choice?" Han Qianchi's voice cracked.

The Dead Soldier Captain plunged his blade into the ground. The blade sank three inches into the stone with a low hum.

"Die right now."

Silence.

It was so quiet that everyone could hear their own hearts racing.

The Prodigies looked at each other, their faces looking as if they had just eaten a pound of bitter herbs.

Dignified Prodigies.

The top tier of the younger generation in the entire Federation.

S-grade talents, hidden classes, the chosen ones among tens of thousands.

To think that one day they would be forced by a group of dead soldiers to be cannon fodder using poison.

If word got out, the whole Federation would die laughing.

But no one could laugh now.

Skills were sealed, Laws were gone; in this hellhole, they were just mortals slightly sturdier than average people. Facing professional killers who still had weapons and poison, pride and dignity weren't worth a damn.

Han Qianchi moved first.

He reached out, took a porcelain vial, pulled the stopper, and tilted his head back to chug it.

It tasted cloying at first, followed by a chilly sensation that slid down his throat and spread through his stomach.

Han Qianchi set the empty vial down expressionlessly.

Watching this, Xiao Kuangyun cursed fiercely.

"Damn it. When under someone else's roof..."

He didn't finish the sentence, instead stiffening his neck and chugging the poison too.

The other Prodigies hesitated for a few seconds before drinking one by one.

No one dared to be the nail that stuck out.

The Dead Soldier Captain satisfiedly put away the remaining vials and scanned the group of Prodigies whose faces looked worse than corpses after drinking the poison.

And just like that.

An absurdly mismatched ragtag army was formed.

A dozen or so low-health Li family dead soldiers, plus seven or eight poisoned Prodigy cannon fodder who had zero combat power to speak of.

The Dead Soldier Captain's calculations were clicking away. These Prodigies were bait, meat shields, and consumables. As long as they could distract Lin Qi for even a second, the soldiers would have a chance to sink their knives in.

The Prodigies had their own little schemes too. Following along meant they wouldn't die for now; if something went wrong on the way, they might find a chance to run or turn the tables.

Two groups of people, each with their own ulterior motives, formed a motley crew.

The Dead Soldier Captain led this ragtag army, following the trail of deep footprints Lin Qi had left on the bone-covered ground.

After walking for about ten minutes.

The giant skeletal pit appeared before everyone.

The Dead Soldier Captain lay by the edge of the pit and cautiously peered down.

At the bottom.

White steam was churning and surging.

Through the thermal mist, the figure of a youth could be seen sitting cross-legged, his entire body emitting visible high-temperature heat waves that distorted the air.

That posture, that state.

He was one hundred percent Cultivating.

And it was one hundred percent at the most critical moment.

The Dead Soldier Captain's eyes lit up.

He turned back, lowered his voice, and made a gesture to everyone behind him.

Then, with a sound only those nearby could hear, he spoke word by word.

"He's at a critical juncture and can't afford any distractions."

"Everyone, follow me down."

"Kill him."