619: Chapter 619 speaks louder than a thousand words.

Blood Butcher's gaze slowly swept over every face below the mountain, faces twisted by greed.

These gazes were sticky and cold, like maggots, and like countless invisible hands, impatiently trying to pry open his flesh and hollow out everything in his divine treasury.

He had seen too many such scenes.

Every time a Treasure Trove opened, every time a great treasure appeared, the so-called Alliance was nothing more than a pack of jackals temporarily banded together.

And the jackals' fangs would always first bite into the fattest and most conspicuous piece of meat.

Right now, that piece of meat was Luo Xiaojiu, and the mountain of treasures beneath her that was almost blinding.

And he, Blood Butcher—was just the most troublesome bone stuck next to this piece of meat.

A bone with its blood drained dry and its strength squeezed out.

Once the meat was devoured, the next step would be to crack the bone and suck out the marrow.

He could feel it.

The moment these allies exchanged glances, they hid undisguised calculations and contingency plans—waiting only for Luo Xiaojiu to die, and the carnival would begin immediately.

He, Blood Butcher, was merely the second dish served up at this feast.

"Sigh."

A soft sigh exploded without warning.

It was very light, like a feather brushing against an earlobe.

Yet it was extremely heavy—like an invisible ten-thousand-pound hammer, carrying the loneliness and indifference of an ancient wilderness, precisely, slowly, and irresistibly smashing into the heart of every living creature on the plain.

The wind stopped.

The restless vortex of spiritual power stagnated.

The roars about to burst from the Cultivators' throats, their rapid breathing, the subtle friction of weapons against armor... every sound was arrogantly erased by this sigh.

The world was deathly silent, with only the echoes reverberating and trembling in their hearts, bringing a bone-chilling horror.

Amidst this absolute silence, Luo Xiaojiu leisurely patted her skirt.

Even though it was spotless.

Then, she stood up from the top of the maddening mountain of treasures.

Her movements were as casual as waking from a nap in the afternoon.

She tilted her head slightly, looking down at the dark, bristling crowd below. Her clear eyes reflected the cold light of spiritual weapons, the restless gleam of Divine Abilities, and countless faces twisted and swollen with desire.

"You said just now—"

Her voice was not loud, but it clearly drilled into the deepest part of everyone's ears, carrying a hint of just the right amount of confusion, innocent to the point of cruelty, "Ten or so against one?"

No one answered.

But the surging Killing Intent, the ferocity that had completely torn off its disguise, and the Spiritual Pressure weaving into an inescapable net that pressed closer step by step, were the best and most clamorous answer.

Luo Xiaojiu smiled.

The corners of her mouth curved into an extremely clean, even childish arc, and her eyes narrowed slightly, like two crescent moons.

Yet, this smile, in the eyes of Blood Butcher, was a thousand, ten thousand times colder than all the swords and blades below the mountain combined.

She turned her face to look at him.

Her gaze fell on his ruptured wounds, his blood-soaked battle robe, and those red eyes that still held a lingering ferocity even though he was exhausted.

"Blood Butcher."

She called to him, her tone as relaxed as if calling a puppy on the roadside.

Blood Butcher did not answer.

Yet every muscle in his body tightened and trembled under instinct's urging—not out of fear, but a desperate warning originating from the very source of his Bloodline.

It was as if an ancient mark sleeping in the deepest part of his Divine Soul was screaming crazily: Do not look directly! Do not speculate! Do not disobey!

A fair, soft hand gently patted his battered shoulder.

The touch was very light, even carrying a hint of comfort.

But in that instant, what Blood Butcher felt was a pressure like mountains collapsing and seas overturning.

It was not the crushing weight of spiritual power, but something more essential, more domineering—as if the weight of the entire world was pressing silently onto his spine through that small hand.

It wanted to make him bow his head, make him kneel, make him—

Submit.

"I'll give you two choices."

Luo Xiaojiu's voice remained nonchalant, as if discussing today's weather.

Yet every word was like an ice-quenched nail, hammered into Blood Butcher's eardrums.

"First." She extended a slender, white finger and pointed casually down the mountain, "I beat you into a real dead dog—literally. Break all your tendons and bones, crush your Nascent Soul, and leave you with just one breath."

"Then throw you down."

"Tell me, are the secret Legacy and Bloodline Treasure Trove of the Blood God Clan on you enough to make them fight even more happily? They should be, right?"

"Maybe, while they are busy fighting over you, I can leave in peace."

Blood Butcher's pupils shrank to needle points.

The cold, viscous touch of death instantly gripped his throat.

In his current state of being completely drained, once thrown into the midst of those wild beasts who had been completely consumed by greed... they would pounce like real hyenas and tear him to shreds.

No, it wouldn't be that simple.

They would use the most vicious methods in the world to pry open his mouth, torture his Divine Soul, and extract every bit of value from the Blood God Clan Prodigy, down to his skin and bones.

This would be ten thousand times more terrifying than the cruelest purgatory.

"Second."

Luo Xiaojiu raised a second finger, the smile on her face unchanged, even brighter.

She turned back to look down the mountain, as if enjoying a play about to begin.

"You go down—"

She paused, each word spoken clearly and slowly, carrying a self-evident cruelty.

"Kill them all."

"...What?"

Blood Butcher heard his own dry, hoarse voice, as if squeezed out of a broken bellows.

"Didn't you hear clearly?" Luo Xiaojiu tilted her head slightly, her hair brushing against her jade-like cheek, "I said, you go down and kill all those noisy... trash below."

"Don't leave a single one."

She turned her head, her gaze landing on Blood Butcher's blood-stained face, her eyes clear as crystal, yet bottomless.

"Your injuries have already recovered seven or eight percent of your combat power, which is more than enough to deal with them."

"Besides, you, Blood Butcher—a dignified Mid-stage Spirit Transformation Prodigy of the Blood God Clan, dealing with such a motley crew of people who have come together with ulterior motives..."

She chuckled softly, her voice rising at the end with a hint of playful skepticism.

"It shouldn't be hard, right?"

Blood Butcher fell silent.

The heavy silence permeated again, this time only enveloping him and her.

The restlessness, urging, and faint ringing of weapons coming from down the mountain all became blurred background noise.

His gaze was locked tightly on Luo Xiaojiu's face, trying to find a trace of a joke, a test, or reluctance in that flawless smile.

There was none.

Only a bottomless calm and self-evident cruelty.

She really thought so.

Treating him as a knife that was still handy, throwing him down to clear away the mosquitoes and flies in front of her.

Nothing more.

His gaze slowly shifted away, sweeping past the foot of the mountain—

The ancient sword in the hand of the Sword Tiger Clan Prodigy was spitting out bone-chilling cold light; the pair of cyan short blades behind the Feather Clan Woman were flowing with bloodthirsty halos; the Demon-Subduing Pestle beside the Vajra Monk was humming, the Buddha light revealing a murderous intent; the Lion-headed Powerhouse had Demonic Qi soaring to the sky, already condensed into a violent Vicious Beast phantom, its claws and fangs ferocious...

He also saw it—the undisguised covetousness and Killing Intent in the eyes of these allies when they looked at him.

Behind Luo Xiaojiu, this piece of fat meat, he, Blood Butcher, was also a covetable Treasure Trove.

"Do you think... I can win?"

Blood Butcher's voice was low and hoarse, every word seeming squeezed from his lungs, carrying the smell of blood.

Luo Xiaojiu seemed to find this question interesting. She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

"Whether you can win or not is your business."

Her tone remained light, even carrying a hint of a young girl's naivety, but the content was bone-chillingly cold: "I just don't want to dirty my own hands. It's too much trouble."

She raised her fair finger and pointed lightly down the mountain.

"But you are different. You were already prey on their list."

"You going down to fight is only natural, it is a trapped beast fighting, it is a dying struggle... it is reasonable and logical."

Her smile became even more pure and innocent.

"What a great opportunity, Blood Butcher."

"Either die worthlessly as a pile of Materials to be divided and eaten."

"Or—"

She drew out the tail of her sentence, her eyes shifting to land on Blood Butcher's hand, which was gripping the hilt of his blade so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Use their blood to carve out a path of survival for yourself."

"Blood Butcher! Luo Xiaojiu! Giving you three breaths of time to consider!"

The Sword Tiger Clan Prodigy finally could not hold back, his ancient sword pointing from afar at the mountaintop, Sword Qi soaring to the sky, his roar breaking the silence: "Hand over the treasure, seal your own cultivation, and you can keep your corpses intact! Otherwise, today, this place will be where your bodies and souls are extinguished!"

"Why waste words with these two dying people!" The Lion-headed Powerhouse roared up to the sky, the sound shaking the surroundings, the black Demonic Qi storm surging again, "Everyone, what are you waiting for? Charge up! Treasures belong to those with virtue! Whoever grabs their lives, it belongs to them!"

The final fig leaf was completely torn off.

The fire of greed completely devoured reason, and the so-called Alliance was as thin as paper before the ultimate temptation.

Countless fierce auras rushed into the sky, locking onto the two people on the mountaintop.

Spiritual power boiled like the sea, Killing Intent wove into a net, pressing closer step by step—the next moment, it would be a torrent of destruction pouring upwards.

Luo Xiaojiu seemed to not hear the roars and boiling Killing Intent from below.

She just looked at Blood Butcher quietly, her eyes curved into pretty crescent moons, waiting patiently.

This gaze was as gentle as waiting for a lost child to make a choice.

"Well, have you thought about it?"

Her voice was soft and soothing, like a lover's whisper, yet every word was like a knife, scraping against Blood Butcher's tense nerves.

"Do you want to be a... dead person who is completely dismantled and trampled on?"

She leaned forward slightly, getting closer, her breath like orchids, but what she said was the cruelest verdict.

"Or, be a... dog... that is still useful and can bite people for me?"

The moment the word "dog" left her lips—

Blood Butcher's tightly closed eyes suddenly snapped open!

The last trace of struggle, humiliation, and anger in his eyes was instantly extinguished as if doused by ice water, leaving only a bottomless, crimson red frozen like eternal ice.

Three breaths.

He only used three breaths to burn away all useless emotions.

When he opened them again, there was no longer the arrogance of a Prodigy, no longer the madness of impending death, only the purest, most primitive, most naked—

Killing Intent.

He slowly turned his head, his blood-colored pupils nailed tightly to Luo Xiaojiu's smiling face, his gaze so fierce it seemed as if he wanted to tear her figure apart and devour it.

This look carried monstrous hatred, unwillingness, the anger of being trampled upon, and a trace of... resignation that even he himself had not realized, but which had already seeped into his bones.

The Blood God Clan Prodigy would rather break than bend.

But today, although his spine was not yet broken, an invisible shackle had already been placed on his neck.

"You win."

Three words squeezed out from his gritted teeth.

Every word was soaked in the smell of blood, as if he had chewed up his own dignity and pride, mixed with blood foam, and swallowed it back into his stomach.

Luo Xiaojiu's smile blossomed suddenly, like an Udumbara flower blooming, stunning yet fleeting.

She blinked and said briskly, in a tone that was almost like a commendation:

"Go quickly, my dear..."

She deliberately paused, enjoying the sudden ripples in Blood Butcher's eyes, before slowly adding the last three words:

"Servant Number Two."

Blood Butcher did not utter another word.

All words were pale and meaningless at this moment.

He turned abruptly!

His blood-stained battle robe swung in the silent air, tracing a heavy arc, like a falling battle flag, or a toppling tombstone.

The dark red long blade in his hand, which had accompanied him through many years of battles and drunk countless blood, was gripped tightly in both hands, the tip pointing downwards, and then—

Using all the strength his remaining body could muster, he slammed it fiercely into the hard mountain rock beneath his feet!

Boom!!!

It was no longer a muffled sound, but an earth-shattering explosion!

The moment the hilt touched the rock layer, a visible dark red shockwave exploded in a ring!

This was not spiritual power, but the tangible, vicious energy and monstrous Battle Intent!

With the hilt as the center, countless thick, ferocious cracks spread madly, as if the earth had opened a pitch-black giant mouth, instantly covering the entire top of the hill.

The gravel did not just splash up; it was directly blown away by the violent airwave and ground into powder!

The entire hill seemed to moan in pain under this fierce impact, trembling violently!

This strike—

Smashed all hesitation, hesitation, and retreat.

This strike—

Was the most violent, most direct declaration of war to the thousands of greedy gazes below the mountain!

The sound wave, mixed with rolling dust, swept downwards, rushing toward the group of Cultivators below who were already crazy and about to charge.

Blood Butcher's figure stood in the dust of the collapsing mountaintop, slowly raising his lowered head.

The dark red long blade pointed diagonally at the ground, and the thick, tangible Killing Intent, like a raging sea of blood, surged from him towards the ocean of allies below, roaring!

He did not roar, he did not make a declaration.

But the long blade trembling non-stop in his hand, his figure with vicious blood flames beginning to steam up again, and those cold, scarlet eyes locked onto every enemy—

Already surpassed ten thousand words.