Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

After treating the most serious wound, Xilun bent down, picked up a sharp sea stone, and cut a new gash in his palm.

Blood drips.

He raised his hand, and the rainwater, tide water, and blood from his palm mixed together, splitting into dozens of extremely fine red lines that flowed in different directions.

Some flowed into the sea.

Some seeped into the cracks in the stone.

Some meander westward along the mudflats.

The Blood Compass can track blood flow.

Then give it more blood.

After doing all this, he crawled out from behind the rocks into a grove of low pine trees.

The water in the forest was deep, and when the decaying leaves were stepped on, murky bubbles would rise to the surface. Instead of walking on dry ground, Xilun deliberately chose to travel through shallow water and muddy ditches.

Each step was wiped away by the flowing water.

Half an hour later, the first hound boat approached the rocky beach.

Several Tusol guards jumped off the ship, leading two long, thin black dogs.

The black dog had a copper ring on its nose, but its eyes had an unnatural gray-blue tint. It lowered its head to sniff the blood in the crack in the stone and immediately let out a rapid, low growl.

"here!"

"The guard shouted."

Clement, wearing a clean cloak, came from behind.

The needle marks on the back of his hand had healed, and he had a new light armor on his chest, but there were faint bloodshot veins in his eyes, a result of not having slept all night.

He squatted down and looked at the blood that had been diluted by the rain in the crack in the stone.

"It's too obvious."

The guard beside him was taken aback. "Captain?"

"He left it there on purpose."

Clement reached out and caught a raindrop, gently rubbing it between his fingertips. "Split into three teams. Two teams will follow the blood trail, and one team will come with me into the woods."

"But the compass points to the sea and the west."

"Compasses can be misleading."

Clement stood up and looked into the depths of the low pine forest. "Those who are about to die will seek out the nearest hiding place. Those who want to live will go to the most difficult places."

He paused, then said, "Xilun wants to live."

The guard's heart tightened, and he immediately bowed his head to accept the order.

In the forest, Xilun leaned against a rotting pine tree, hearing the distant barking of hunting dogs.

Clement did not entirely believe the fake bloodstains.

Very normal.

Anyone who can serve as the captain of the Royal Guard under Oin cannot be a fool.

Xilun took out a Cold Bone Crystal from his sleeve.

The grayish-white crystals are only the size of a thumb; when held in the palm of your hand, they feel like holding a piece of bone from a winter night.

He closed his eyes and began to practice the Profound Yin Breathing Technique.

A chill seeped into the veins from the palm, flowing down the arm to the chest and abdomen. The burning pain at the sword wound was suppressed somewhat, replaced by a deeper cold.

During normal cultivation, this chill needs to be gradually dispelled.

There's no slowing down now.

Xilun forced it to swallow.

The cold air clashed with his injuries, as if two tides were crashing together within him. A metallic taste of blood welled up in his throat, but he forced it back down.

Seven breaths.

He only gave himself seven breaths.

After seven breaths, Xilun opened his eyes and continued his journey inland.

At noon, he arrived at the outskirts of the abandoned quarry valley.

It's even more desolate than Rena described.

The mountain walls on both sides were carved into layers of grayish-white surfaces, as if a giant had slashed them with a blunt knife. An old hoist stood crookedly at the mouth of the valley, its iron chains rusted and making a grating noise in the wind. Scattered on the ground were broken stone wheels, abandoned wooden rails, and miners' wooden signs soaked by rainwater.

The sound of water could be heard deep in the valley.

It's not a stream.

It is underground water that seeps out from the cracks in the rocks, forming pools of cold, damp water.

Xilun did not go in immediately.

He circled the valley entrance and found three old mine tunnels where he could retreat, and then set up simple traps in two of them.

There was no gunpowder.

There were no gunmen.

He only has himself.

There are also the remaining medicines and resources on my body.

He inserted a soul-suppressing nail into a dead tree at the valley entrance, and then used a waterline to pull several loose rocks, bringing them to the brink of falling.

If the pursuers rush in, it will at least delay them for a while.

After doing all this, Xilun ventured into the deepest part of the valley.

There was a partially collapsed mine shed there.

The roof leaked and the house was drafty, but it was close to the mountainside, with a crack at the back leading to an underground water cave. Xilun cleared out a dry stone platform and opened the oilcloth bag he was wearing.

Resources are limited.

Three Frost Mist Marrow Crystals.

Two pieces of cold bone crystal.

Half a bottle of Yinlingyuan Water.

One bottle of Tranquility Potion.

The fragrance of incense purifies the soul in three stages.

Two vials of dust removal agent.

In addition, there were healing medicines given by Lund, and compressed dry rations prepared by Rhodes.

These were originally prepared for emergencies on the way to and from Baiya Town.

Now, these are the only things that give Xilun the confidence to survive the pursuit.

He sat down against the stone wall, first swallowed Lund's healing medicine, and then lit a stick of incense to purify his soul.

The bluish-white smoke swayed in the humid air and was quickly half dispersed by the wind.

Xilun used a few stone slabs to block the wind, then bent down and took out the potion of tranquility.

He stared at the medicine for a moment.

Drinking it now can quickly stabilize your mind and help you recover your state of mind when combined with meditation.

But there may be even more dangerous times ahead.

Xilun was ultimately not opened.

He carefully put the tranquilizing potion away and closed his eyes.

Soothing techniques unfold in the mental world.

The whiteness no longer radiates outwards, but falls gently like fine snowflakes onto the restless core of the spirit. The pain still exists, but it is separated by a layer, becoming distant, clear, and bearable.

The Xuan Yin Breathing Technique then began to operate.

The valley is cold.

The groundwater is cold.

The coldness of the bone crystal.

The coldness following blood loss.

He gradually drew all the chill into his breath, muscles, bones, and internal organs.

Each breath is like sharpening a knife.

The knife is his body.

The millstone is death.

Before dusk, the trap at the valley entrance moved.

Boom!

The sound of rocks tumbling down echoed through the valley.

Xilun opened his eyes.

The pursuers were faster than he had anticipated.

He extinguished the incense, picked up the golden spear, and silently disappeared into the crack behind the mine shed.

Before long, four Tusol guards entered the valley.

They did not venture too far, but instead spread out and took turns providing cover with short guns and crossbows.

One of them had a small compass slung over his shoulder; the compass needle trembled wildly and finally pointed to the mine shed.

"He's inside."

"Don't get too close. The captain said he's very good at close combat."

"Even with injuries like that, you can still—"

Before the words were finished, the pool of water next to the mine shed suddenly exploded.

Three streams of water shot out from the pool, wrapping around the ankles of the foremost guard and dragging him down abruptly.

The other two fired their guns simultaneously.

Boom!

Lead bullets pierced through the wooden planks of the mine shed.

Xilun was not in the shed.

He emerged from the shadows to the side, his golden spear sweeping across, the shaft striking a guard in the chest.

Crack!

The sternum collapsed.

The man was sent flying backwards, crashing into the stone wall and instantly losing consciousness.

The second guard reacted quickly, drawing his sword and slashing at Xilun's old wound on his left side.

They clearly already knew the location of his injury.

Xilun's eyes turned cold.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, using his shoulder to brace against the back of the blade, and gripped the other's wrist with his left hand, releasing a burst of chilling breath.

The guard's pupils contracted, and frost formed on his arm.

Xilun kneed him in the stomach, then used a short blade to cut open his belt and kicked him into the pool.

Just as the third man raised his crossbow, he saw a Soul-Suppressing Nail fly out from the rain.

puff.

The Soul-Suppressing Nail pierced into the shoulder socket.

Half of his body went numb, and the crossbow bolt went astray, embedding itself in a pillar of the mine shed.

Just as Xilun was about to finish off the enemy, a sharp aura suddenly emanated from the valley entrance.

He retreated without hesitation.

The next instant, a sword light sliced ​​through the spot where he had just been standing.

The mine shed support pillar broke off silently.

Clement walked into the valley.

Rain dripped down the edge of his cloak, and his slender sword hung at an angle, its tip free of mud.

He glanced at the fallen guard, but instead of scolding him, he simply said, "Step back."

The two surviving guards dragged the wounded away and quickly retreated to the valley entrance.

Xilun stood by the pool, breathing very lightly.

Clement's gaze fell on his chest and left rib.

"You're recovering faster than I expected."

Xilun did not speak.

Every extra word he says now is a waste of his energy.

Clement didn't seem to need a response.

"But the wound has not truly healed."

He raised his rapier. "You're using cold breath to seal the blood, medicine to suppress the pain, and mental techniques to maintain consciousness. You can't hold on like this for long."

Xilun finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse.

"You can give it a try."

Clement looked at him and suddenly said, "If you are willing to hand over the Moon Phase Silver Marrow and bow down to the Third Elder, I can plead for your life."

Xilun twitched the corner of his mouth.

Do you believe it?

Clement remained silent for a moment.

"I don't believe it."

"Then let's not waste our time."

Xilun raised his spear slightly.

Raindrops slid down the tip of the gun.

A complex look appeared in Clement's eyes.

He doesn't like killing people like that.

Many noblemen would beg for mercy, curse, and invoke their fathers, surnames, gods, and the law before they died.

Xilun will not.

This young man was like a piece of iron soaked in cold water; the more you struck him, the colder he became, and the harder he grew.

If he had been born in Tusol, he might have become the sharpest blade in the family.

Unfortunately, he was unwilling to be anyone's tool.

Clement stepped forward.

A flash of sword light appeared.

Xilun parried with his spear, but the impact sent him sliding back half a foot, ripples spreading across the pool beneath his feet.

He used the water to deflect the force and thrust out the Crimson Star with his backhand.

The moment the dark red light condensed, Clement's rapier slanted down, precisely interrupting the point of force application.

Xilun felt a tightness in his chest, and the force of his gun dissipated.

The third-tier combat experience, speed, and strength all surpassed his.

If it weren't for the narrow valley terrain, numerous pools of water, and Clement's fear of his dying counterattack, Siron wouldn't have even lasted ten moves.

The seventh sword strike adds another wound to Xilun's shoulder.

With the eleventh sword strike, the golden spear slipped from his hand for a split second before he forcibly pulled it back with a waterline.

With the thirteenth strike, Clement pierced the outside of his right arm, the blade drawing out a string of blood droplets.

Xilun's face was frighteningly pale.

But his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Each time it is on the verge of collapse, the Xuan Yin Breathing Technique is forced to press deeper.

The cold breath no longer only flows through the meridians.

It began to approach the bone marrow, the internal organs, and the edges of every torn piece of flesh.

Pain, cold, and the pressure of death, like three hands, forcefully pushed him toward that door.

Clement noticed it too.

His eyes darkened.

We can't delay any longer.

A pale blue sheen appeared on the slender sword.

The surrounding raindrops were shattered by the sharp edge, turning into fine mist.

A sense of foreboding pounded wildly in Xilun's heart.

This sword strike cannot be blocked.

He suddenly leaned back and fell into the pool.

Clement brought his sword down.

The pool split in two, revealing a deep slick of silt at the bottom.

Xilun was not at the bottom of the pool.

He used the underground water channel to slide into the crack behind the mine shed.

Clement immediately took two steps to catch up, but stopped in front of the crack.

Too narrow.

It was full of water.

For him, this was a trap.

A moment later, a guard ran from the valley entrance, "Captain, the compass points to the underground waterway; he's still heading into the mountains!"

Clement sheathed his sword, his expression grim.

He let Xiren escape once again.

But this is not a failure.

The prey is still bleeding, still consuming itself, and still forced to keep going.

He looked into the depths of the crevice and said slowly, "Seal off the three roads outside the valley. Don't go into the water cave. Wait for him to come out."

"What if he doesn't come out?"

"He will come out."

Clement turned and walked toward the valley entrance. "His wounds need drying, medicine, and meditation. The water could save him, or it could kill him."

In the underground dark water, Xilun drifted far downstream.

Only after confirming that no one was chasing him did he grab a protruding rock corner and struggle to climb into a narrow stone cavity.

The stone cavity was only half the size of a room, with water dripping from the ceiling and thin air, but it was big enough to hold a person.

Xilun sat down against the stone wall, his fingers reaching into his robes.

There are three Frost Mist Crystals left.

There is still half a bottle of Yinlingyuan Water left.

The tranquilizing potion is still there.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the potion of tranquility and drank it all.

The cooling medicinal effect went straight to the brain.

The intense pain was suppressed, and distracting thoughts sank deep into the depths.

Xilun took out a Frost Mist Crystal and held it in his palm.

There's Clement outside.

There are Tussor hunting parties outside.

Further away are Oin, the Black Death Cult, and those mysterious employers who don't want him to advance.

He had no safe retreat room, no full protectors, and not enough time.

But the threshold is right in front of us.

He has already seen it.

Xilun closed his eyes, his breathing gradually slowing down.

The Cold Mist Crystal melted into icy mist in the palm of the hand, slowly seeping into the wound, meridians, and bones.

The Xuan Yin Breathing Technique was activated once again.

This time, Hanxi was not led forward by him as before.

Like a tide that has finally found its home, it willingly clung to his heart, spine, and flesh.

Siren's eyelashes were covered in a fine frost.

The bleeding from the chest wound has stopped.

At the edge of the sword wound on his left rib, the flesh struggled to move, still blocked by the sword energy, but no longer disintegrated.

Outside the stone cavity, dark water flows silently.

Further away, the Tussor hounds growled in the valley, and Clement's cold lights flickered on one by one.

Xilun was like a cold iron nail trapped inside the dark belly of a mountain.

Pursuers are outside.

The death gate is behind.

He poured all his escape routes into a long, drawn-out breathing exercise.

After an unknown amount of time, a very faint cracking sound came from the stone cavity.

The Frost Mist Crystal in his palm cracked open.

The sound of the cold mist crystals cracking was very soft.

It was as light as a frozen strand of hair, slowly broken by the fingertip.

But in Xilun's perception, the sound was like a bell tolling, traveling along his palms, arms, chest, and abdomen, all the way into the depths of his bone marrow.

Cold mist seeped out from the crack.

It is no longer a wisp.

Instead, it was a cold wave compressed to its extreme.

The stone cavity was already cold and damp, with underground water flowing slowly along the outer rock wall, the sound of the water deep and muffled, like some kind of giant beast breathing in the darkness.

At this moment, the Frost Mist Crystal completely cracked, and the temperature in the narrow space suddenly dropped. The dripping water droplets condensed into tiny ice particles in mid-air before they even touched the ground.

Xilun did not open his eyes.

His breathing was slow and deep.

With each breath, it felt like my lungs were being scraped by ice scalpels.

With each exhale, a tearing pain would come from the wounds in his chest and left rib.

Clement's sword energy is very difficult to deal with.

That wasn't an ordinary cut, but a thin, sharp, alien force that clung to the edge of the flesh, like a maggot clinging to the bone, preventing the wound from closing.

The Blood Seal's regenerative power tried several times to envelop and devour it, but was cut open by the sword energy, causing the wound to repeatedly reopen.

Xilun could feel his blood draining away little by little.

Unhappy.

But it never stopped.

This is the most dangerous place.

He could endure the pain and forcefully suppress his weakness, but the body is not a machine made of iron. Blood loss, cold, mental exhaustion, and the backlash from injuries—any of these, if prolonged, could be fatal.

Moreover, Clement is outside.