The ruins stretched as far as the eye could see, marked by the passage of time and the power of ancient eras. Above all, there were legacies, but not everyone had the strength to claim them—which was why there were faint silhouettes lurking among the bushes.
BaiShe didn't need to turn his head to see them. He could sense them. Five cultivators, opportunistic looters.
They had been patient, waiting for BaiShe to grow exhausted or for his hypothetical protector to appear. But every hour spent observing their prey only deepened the doubt in their minds.
"He wasn't supposed to be a weakling?" muttered the only woman in the group.
Her gaze was fixed on the perfectly severed corpses of the fourth-rank monsters. Every member of her team was just as perplexed as she was.
"Maybe his sword is a supreme artifact?" joked another with a forced laugh.
No one acknowledged the joke.
Then, a voice shattered their silence, sharp as a blade.
"Come out."
The thieves froze, their breath caught.
He had spotted them.
Their hearts raced. Maybe he was bluffing? Maybe he was casting a random net?
"Should I come get you?"
This time, they flinched. They had no choice.
The group's leader, a man whose face was marked by the passage of time—no younger than forty, yet only at the Spiritual Refinement stage—cleared his throat and tried to save face with a nervous tone.
"Ah, young master, this might seem strange, but I beg you to—"
A dull thud echoed.
His vision blurred for a moment, and he felt warm liquid splash across his face.
He looked down.
His companion's head was already rolling on the ground, mouth still agape in a silent scream.
A chill of horror ran down his spine.
"What the—"
His gaze turned to BaiShe.
The young man, until then icy calm, was now licking his blood-covered fingers.
His pupils gleamed with euphoric light.
"Damn... It's been so long ~"
His morbid smile was unsettling. The others weren't thinking anymore—they were running erratically, desperately, even forgetting they could fly.
But it was already too late.
BaiShe raised a hand.
A reddish-green Qi burst from his body and enveloped them in an instant.
The four thieves floated in the air, their limbs contorted in pain.
They gasped for breath, blood flowing from their eyes, ears, and nostrils.
"What the hell is this... this thing?!"
"It's—"
"It's the Devourer?!"
They struggled, tried to unleash their own Qi, but it was useless.
The chaotic Qi was consuming them from within.
Soon, their screams turned to gurgles.
Their bodies, blood, and especially their essences were devoured by BaiShe, leaving them as empty shells, mummified corpses that fell to the ground.
In the palm of his hand, a reddish-black pearl formed.
He rolled it between his fingers, observing its dull glow.
"Their essence is so mediocre..." he muttered, disappointed.
If he had to settle for this quality, he'd need millions to hope for progress.
"Ah... Looks like I'll have to loot tombs like a jackal..." he sighed aloud.
Then his special pupil activated instinctively, and he sensed presences...
A kilometer away.
A carnivorous smile spread across his face.
He stored the pearl in his spatial ring, and in an instant, his body dissipated into a bloody mist, carried away by the breeze.
...
The young man was surrounded by a dozen servants and a few young cultivators. Qiu Jian never lacked attention. He was a talented cultivator from the Heavenly Star family, one of the most influential lineages in the Immortal Clan. Consequently, many young women sought his favor, each vying with smiles and flattery.
As they chatted, a shiver ran through the group. A servant suddenly straightened, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Did you feel it, young master?"
Qiu Jian narrowed his eyes. A dull energy spread through the air, viscous and oppressive. He gripped the handle of his spear, its tip crackling with lightning.
"Yes… That repulsive aura…"
He took a deep breath before giving his orders.
"Let's go."
Without hesitation, he transformed into a blue flash, soaring into the sky with thirty figures trailing behind him.
When they arrived, a heavy silence greeted them. The landscape was desolate, marked here and there by signs of battle. Furrows gouged the ground, and once-majestic trees lay uprooted. Yet, it wasn't the destruction that struck them most.
Shriveled corpses littered the battlefield. Their faces were frozen in horror, their limbs withered. Only empty shells remained, their essences completely drained.
Qiu Jian clenched his fists.
"It's him… the Devourer."
His voice was low, laced with restrained fury. He had already known he might encounter the Devourer in the Ruins, but he hadn't expected him to have left victims in his wake.
He turned to his companions.
"He's here. We must alert the others immediately."
A servant stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
"Don't worry, young master. No need for you to move—I'll alert them for you."
Qiu Jian nodded with a smile. He patted the man's shoulder in gratitude.
"Thank you, brother. This matter is of utmost importance. We must gather as quickly as possible. This monster must not leave here."
They all nodded gravely. One of the men swiftly rose into the air, heading to inform the other factions of the younger generation.
Minutes passed as Qiu Jian studied the ground intently. The arrangement of the corpses and the direction of the impacts gave him some clues about the battle that had taken place.
A strange gust disturbed the air.
Qiu Jian looked up.
A figure floated in the sky.
He stiffened immediately.
"An enemy?"
The man descended slowly, as if he feared nothing and no one. His clothes were opulent, and the aura he exuded was unfathomable. His icy gaze swept the area, then he spoke in a calm voice.
"The aura here is foul… Where is the Devourer?"
Qiu Jian frowned.
' Who is this guy?'
He noticed the man's silver hair, glowing in the daylight. A shiver ran down his spine.
The Hu family… An ancient lineage.
He narrowed his eyes, wary.
"Still as arrogant, these descendants of ancient lineages…"
The stranger didn't react to the provocation. His expression remained impassive, as if the words didn't even reach him, before adding:
"Wrong answer…"
Qiu Jian barely had time to widen his eyes before everything shifted.
"Huh?"
A sense of danger gripped him.
But it was too late.
Before he could understand what was happening, the man raised his hand, and in an instant, his arm materialized into a gigantic palm of Qi. The air itself trembled under the pressure of this overwhelming manifestation.
"Watch out!"
Qiu Jian reacted instantly. He drew his spear in a blue flash and swung it to counter the attack. But as soon as his blade met the silver palm, he knew he was outmatched. The attack was far too dominant, far too crushing.
His body was violently thrown backward. He shot through the air like a meteor before crashing heavily to the ground.
"Kuh- Shhi-"
He coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of blood that stained his tunic. His cyan-blue hair, once neatly tied, was now disheveled, clumped with sweat and blood.
Around him, his companions were no better off. All lay in pools of their own blood, unconscious, their bodies broken. Yet, miraculously, none were dead.
A grimace twisted Qiu Jian's bloodied lips as he struggled to his feet.
"Damn… They're so high and mighty…"
Blue lightning began to coil around his body, illuminating his silhouette in the gathering dusk.
"I'll bring you down to earth."