Fantasy: I'm in a discarded alchemy room, but I can turn trash into treasure!

"You cowardly scum, how dare you launch a sneak attack! I'll chop you into mincemeat today!"

Murong Jue was covered in blood, his murderous aura locking onto the masked man wearing the black iron mask.

"You hypocritical old man, you think you're so capable?"

Qin Mo spoke casually.

"Master, be careful! This old fellow is Murong Jue, a revered elder of the Murong family! He's at the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm!"

Hua Meiniang chased after Murong Yi, who was fleeing with a severed wrist, and turned to shout at Qin Mo.

Murong Yi's right hand was severed, and his entire arm hung limply, covered in blood. He ran out of the valley.

Hua Meiniang's half-step Golden Core cultivation level overwhelmed him, a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator, and he didn't even dare to look back as he ran.

Murong Jue slammed his right palm down hard on Qin Mo.

A burst of crimson spiritual energy erupted, transforming into a giant hand that pressed down on Qin Mo with a foul, bloody aura.

"Blood Spirit Root?"

Behind the mask, Qin Mo narrowed his eyes.

Qin Mo took a deep breath, channeling his energy into his limbs, and took a step forward, throwing a punch at the enormous blood palm.

"Ha, like a mantis trying to stop a chariot! You, a mere junior, dare to withstand my palm strike?"

Murong Jue laughed coldly.

"Bang!"

The dull thud echoed through the canyon.

Qin Mo punched the center of the blood-red giant hand.

"Snap!"

Countless cracks spread out in all directions, starting from Qin Mo's fist.

In the blink of an eye, the entire bloody palm was cracked into countless tiny pieces.

"What?"

Murong Jue's expression changed drastically.

Not only did the opponent block his palm strike, but the brute force of the fist actually shattered his Blood Fiend Palm from the inside.

"broken!"

Qin Mo's blood and qi surged, and the force in his fist suddenly increased significantly.

"boom!"

The giant blood-red hand exploded on the spot, sending countless blood-red fragments flying in all directions.

Murong Jue's body surged with bloodthirsty energy, forming a protective barrier that deflected the flying blood-red fragments.

"Blood Demon Blade...draw!"

Murong Jue formed hand seals, and a blood-red, curved demonic blade shot out from the top of his head, accompanied by a mournful screech, and slashed straight at Qin Mo.

Without a second thought, Qin Mo clenched his fist and swung his arm to meet the descending demonic blade.

"Fool! You dare to use your flesh and blood to take my top-grade spiritual weapon head-on?"

Murong Jue gave a disdainful snort.

"clang!"

The crisp sound of metal clashing echoed through the valley.

Qin Mo's fist slammed into the back of the knife, producing a sound like weapons clashing.

Murong Jue's contempt froze, replaced by indescribable horror.

"This is impossible..."

"Are you a body cultivator?"

Murong Jue glanced at Qin Mo's fists; there were no magical artifacts protecting them.

He had lived for three hundred years and had never encountered such an evil body cultivator.

"Whoosh!"

The sound of the demonic blade slicing through the air rang out once more.

Under Murong Jue's control, the Blood-Transforming Demon Blade transformed into a streak of blood-red light, whistling sharply as it slashed towards Qin Mo.

The blade flashed faster than lightning, tearing a white streak through the air wherever it passed.

Qin Mo activated the Primordial Devouring Heaven Technique, causing his internal energy and blood to boil like a furnace, and a bronze luster appeared on his fists.

He threw punches, each one precisely striking the back of the incoming demonic blade, sending it flying time and time again.

His fist was burning with boiling blood and energy, and a crimson-gold aura burst forth from his fist, illuminating the dim canyon.

"This is impossible, Qi Refining Level 5?"

Murong Jue stared at Qin Mo's aura fluctuations as if he were looking at a monster.

How could someone with only the fifth level of Qi Refining possess such a physical body?

Qin Mo blasted the demonic blade away with another punch, shattered the ground with his foot, and transformed into a blur as he rushed towards Murong Jue.

The high-speed movement compressed the air, creating a muffled sonic boom behind it.

Murong Jue was terrified. He didn't have time to recall the demonic blade that had been blasted away, so he could only use his spiritual power to fly into the sky.

However, before his feet had even left the ground by half a foot, Qin Mo's fist had already arrived.

"Bang!"

"Snap!"

A muffled thud and a shattering sound exploded simultaneously.

Qin Mo punched Murong Jue squarely in the chest, shattering his spirit-patterned armor along with his ribs.

Murong Jue was sent flying backward, crashing headfirst into the stone wall on the side of the canyon, sending shards of rock flying as he became firmly embedded in it.

The Blood-Transforming Demon Blade, now uncontrolled by its master, fell from the sky and embedded itself in the ground.

Qin Mo's blood surged, and his body was steaming with heat. He stepped forward, bent down, and pulled out the demonic blade.

In his mind, the appraisal text of the Qiankun Transformation Furnace appeared: Top-grade spiritual artifact, material: millennium blood evil black iron.

nice one.

With a thought, he directly stored the Blood-Transforming Demon Blade into the Qiankun Transformation Furnace.

The demonic sword, once collected into the furnace, struggled for a moment before falling silent.

"No……"

A heart-wrenching roar echoed from deep within the stone wall.

Murong Jue could no longer sense his natal demonic blade.

The Blood-Transforming Demon Blade, which he had refined with his blood essence for three hundred years and was connected to his soul and bloodline, seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving no trace of its aura.

The backlash from having one's natal magic weapon stolen strikes.

Murong Jue felt a tightness in his chest, spat out a mouthful of black blood, his face turned ashen, and the flow of spiritual energy in his meridians became sluggish.

"boom!"

A violent aura of bloodlust surged into the sky from the stone wall, blasting the entire mountainside into dust.

The dust and gravel, along with the crimson shockwave, swept in all directions, and the valley was filled with billowing smoke and dust.

A figure darted out of the dust and smoke, eyes red, and charged straight at Qin Mo.

Murong Jue has gone mad.

His natal magic weapon was half his life; all the effort he had put into refining it for hundreds of years was in that blade. Without the Blood Transformation Demon Blade, his cultivation was reduced by nearly half, making him practically useless.

He must take it back.

"Give me back my Demon Blade!"

Murong Jue used his finger as a blade, and the last remaining blood-fiend spiritual power around him condensed into a blood-red blade shadow, slashing towards Qin Mo's throat.

"Your blade can't even hurt me, let alone a mere wisp of blade energy?"

Qin Mo burst out laughing, shrugged, and took the blow head-on.

The blade struck his shoulder, and the instant it touched his Iron Bone Realm body, it shattered like a porcelain bowl hitting a stone, leaving fragments scattered on the ground.

Murong Jue's pupils contracted, and only at this moment did he realize that he had completely underestimated the masked man in front of him.

Without the magic blade, he couldn't even scratch the opponent's skin.

Murong Jue pushed off with his feet, trying to retreat rapidly; creating distance from the body cultivator was his only way to survive.

"Trying to run away?"

Qin Mo stomped his right foot on the ground, his body leaping up as he threw a punch at Murong Jue's face.

Murong Jue turned his head to dodge, but Qin Mo's speed far exceeded his reaction.

"Bang!"

The punch landed squarely on Murong Jue's left eye, the sound of his eye socket bone shattering clearly audible.

It’s over.

My natal magic weapon is gone, my left eye is ruined, and my spiritual energy is not flowing smoothly due to the backlash from my meridians. If I continue fighting, I will only face certain death.

But he was not willing to give up.

Three hundred years of cultivation, and it all comes to a standstill at the hands of a mere Qi Refining junior?

"Sea of ​​Blood...Ice Realm!"

Murong Jue let out a roar that sounded inhuman as he looked up at the sky and slammed his right hand on the top of his head.

A stream of dark red blood essence gushed from the top of his head, his hair turned white in a few breaths, and his face shriveled up at a visible speed.

He is burning through his lifespan.

Qin Mo frowned, feeling a strange chill spreading from Murong Jue.

"Ha...haha..." Murong Jue stumbled to his feet, laughing maniacally.

His face had aged more than twenty years, his withered white hair cascading over his shoulders, making him look like a walking mummy, but he didn't care about that anymore.

With his only remaining right eye red, he stared intently at Qin Mo, who was frozen in blood ice, and walked step by step toward the ice sculpture.

"Go to hell!"

Murong Jue channeled his remaining spiritual power into his right fist, which was covered with a layer of bloody light, and slammed it down hard on the blood-red ice sculpture.