The smell of rotting flesh filled the ice chamber. It was coming from Elder Gu, who was currently rolling on the ground, clutching the stump of his shoulder. His severed arm lay a few feet away, already reduced to a pile of white dust. "You... you devil!" Elder Gu shrieked, his face twisted in horror. "What kind of demonic art is this?!" Lin Jin didn't answer. He looked at his own hands. Pale. Veiny. Surrounded by a faint, distorting grey mist. He felt light. The crushing weight that had sat on his chest for eighteen years was gone, replaced by a cold, hungry current flowing through his veins. Is this power? "This is merely a taste," the ancient voice echoed in his mind, dripping with arrogance. "Now, look ahead. Your 'dear father' seems upset." Lin Xiao, the Patriarch of the Lin Family, was indeed upset. But he was a veteran warrior. His shock lasted only a second before his expression turned to ice. "I knew it," Lin Xiao said, his voice vibrating with Spirit Qi. "I s

The thrill of the kill faded, leaving only the damp cold of the Blackwater Swamp. Lin Jin dragged his feet through the sludge. The energy he had stolen from the Rot-Tooth Wolf was swirling inside him, wild and chaotic. It felt like he had swallowed a ball of hot iron. "It burns," Lin Jin gritted out, leaning against a dead cypress tree. "I thought... I thought you said this was food." "Raw meat gives you strength, but it can also give you parasites," the Entity replied lazily. "You consumed the wolf's essence, but it is impure. It is mixed with the beast's rage, its fear, and its filth. If you don't refine it, you will turn into a mindless monster." Lin Jin shivered. He didn't want to become a beast. He wanted revenge. To get revenge, he needed a clear mind. "How do I refine it?" "Sit down." Lin Jin found a relatively dry patch of roots and sat cross-legged. "Forget everything the Lin Family taught you," the voice commanded. "They taught you to draw Spirit Qi from the

Lin Jin knelt in the mud, sifting through the piles of clothes that no longer had owners. The Ashbone force was terrifyingly efficient. It destroyed flesh and bone, but it left inorganic matter like leather, cloth, and metal mostly intact—unless Lin Jin specifically willed it to corrode. "Three pouches of gold coins. About 150 pieces," Lin Jin muttered, pocketing the heavy sacks. Money was power in the mortal world. But here, in the depths of the swamp, it was just dead weight. He found a dagger on the leader’s belt. It was a decent steel weapon. Lin Jin picked it up. Tzzt. Immediately, faint spots of rust appeared on the hilt where his skin touched the metal. "Damn it," Lin Jin cursed softly. "I can't even hold a weapon?" "You are a furnace," the Entity reminded him. "Until you learn to completely retract your aura, everything you touch will eventually decay. Wrap it in leather. Thick leather." Lin Jin ripped a strip of leather from the dead mercenary’s armor and wr

​The last crocodile collapsed into a pile of grey ash. ​Lin Jin stood amidst the bone dust, his chest heaving. The grey mist retracted into his pores, leaving his skin looking like cold, polished marble. ​[System Notification: Iron-Rust Body (Stage 2) - Saturation 80%] ​The feeling was incredible. The heavy, metallic essence of the Iron-Back Crocodiles had filled the cracks in his foundation. He felt heavy, grounded, as if he could stand still and let a bull ram into him without moving an inch. ​"Barely passable," the Entity scoffed in his mind, though its tone betrayed a hint of satisfaction. "These lizards had a trace of Earth Dragon blood. Thin, diluted trash... but enough to patch your flimsy mortal frame." ​Lin Jin ignored the insult. He turned to leave. The hunger was gone, and he had no interest in humans. ​"Wait! Please, wait!" ​Su Qing, the beautiful Senior Sister of the Cloud Crane Sect, stumbled forward. She was clutching her side, her white robes stained red with bl

​The ash forest was silent, save for the heavy footsteps of the intruders. ​There were four of them. They wore crimson robes embroidered with screaming skulls—the mark of the Blood Soul Hall. ​"Are you sure this is the right way?" the youngest disciple grumbled, kicking a petrified skull into dust. "We’ve been wandering in this soot for hours. The toxicity is eating through my protective talisman." ​"Quit whining," the leader, a scarred man with a blood-red saber, spat on the ground. "The compass is reacting. The aura of the 'Ancient Evil' is strongest here. If we find the entrance to the Tomb first, the Blood Elder will reward us with a Marrow Cleansing Pill." ​"Heh," a female disciple licked a dagger. "I hope we run into those Cloud Crane Sect brats. I need fresh blood to refine my 'Crimson Needle' technique." ​They laughed. It was the laughter of those used to being the predators. ​They didn't notice that the grey mist around them had stopped moving. ​High above, perc