Apex Court, Golden PavilionXiao Lingxiao paced the length of her lavish apartment, mind distant and filled with worry. Yumei wasn't back yet.Her footsteps echoed softly across the polished floor, but she barely heard them. Her thoughts were elsewhere, circling around the same two things she had been trying, and failing, to push from her mind.Yumei. Then there was Theon.It had already been an hour.Lingxiao glanced toward the entrance again, her brows knitting together.She didn't know if he'd managed to combat whatever it was that was giving off that kind of heavy aura of evil.The memory of that oppressive aura still lingered in her senses. Even from a distance, it had been enough to make the hairs on her arms rise. She had encountered powerful cultivators before, and she had sensed the presence of sinister techniques and dangerous artifacts, but that particular aura had felt different.Like something that wanted to consume rather than merely destroy.“He's Uncle Ren's son. He ca

Backlands; Theon's New RoomTheon finally settled for the room opposite his previous room.It wasn't ideal. Far from it.However, considering the circumstances, it was still better than remaining in his previous room and waiting for the death formation to finish what it had started.There were drawbacks, though.The most troublesome was the environment itself.He couldn't simply absorb energy from the surroundings since it was basically poison.Currently, in the room, there was a giant tent. The thick silver tent took up most part of the modest room, leaving only a narrow path around its edges. Its leather surface shimmered faintly under the dim light, covered in tiny, almost imperceptible patterns that pulsed whenever the formations outside shifted.All around, there were also thick rugs with special arrays engraved on them to repel the other formations.The rugs overlapped slightly at the edges, creating another defensive layer between Theon and the death formations hidden throughou

Theon's heart was hammering erratically in his chest. But somehow, he managed to stay silent enough that even his breath remained undetectable. His entire body had gone rigid behind the cupboard. He could hear the faintest sounds from the passage outside, the barely audible scrape of footsteps against the floor, followed by a moment of silence. The person walking along the passage stopped briefly before pushing open the door. Theon held his breath. That was when he noticed something. There was a second footstep which he hadn't detected before. His eyes narrowed. Two people? The first footsteps had been so light that he had barely registered them, but now there was another presence moving through the passage. His fingers curled slowly against the floor as he strained his ears. “There’s no one here. I told you he’s still sleeping upstairs.” He heard old man Lu’s familiar voice say. Theon’s brows furrowed. Old man Lu? “Better.” A gruff one answered. The voice was unfamiliar. D

Backlands, 2:00 a.m.Blood was steadily dripping from a cut on the upper part of his arm.His lips had gone pale, and the area around the injury had turned suspiciously purplish, almost as if it had been poisoned.Sweat coated his body, running down his temples, neck, and back. His clothes clung to his skin, damp and uncomfortable, while every movement sent a dull throb through the wound.After leaving the academy through the secret routes he had previously prepared, he had spent another hour circling around and trying to reach the target.An hour of running, changing directions, and following traces that seemed deliberately designed to lead him in circles.The target kept switching routes midway, almost as if he had already guessed that he was being followed.Theon had changed his route several times as well, but each time he thought he was finally closing in, the other party would suddenly veer off in another direction.It had been infuriating. Worse, it had cost him precious time.

Theon's fingers tightened until his nails dug deep into his palm, until crescent-shaped marks bled white and then red.They said his father — the great General, the unbreakable wall — died in battle after sealing an ancient portal, a hero's death. A glorious lie.But someone had been slipping something poisonous into his meals. Silent, unnoticed and extremely patient.A betrayal that didn't need a blade."How does the poison work? At which point does it become lethal?" He asked quietly, his voice barely above a breath, even as his mind ran cold calculations, replaying what could have happened during all those years his father stayed in the war camp.The system didn't answer immediately. Instead, a translucent red screen flickered into existence before him, harsh against the dim room, listing things in sterile text: ‘Mode of Action, Onset Period, Lethality Index, Recorded Cases.’"The God Killing Broth is unique in that it leaves no symptoms," the system's metallic voice began, detach