Chapter Ten: The Treachery of the Root-Eaters

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Hanri’s excessive suppression of his own strength left his body covered in claw marks and bruises. At last, he erupted, gathering the thick spiritual power of the Foundation Establishment stage into his fist. At this realm, one progressively unblocks all the meridians of the body, refines the marrow and washes away impurities, no longer needing to refine blood essence to condense spiritual energy as in the Qi Refining stage.

With a single punch, enveloped in a dazzling blue glow, he sent Xu Xing flying back beneath the willow tree.

“It really wasn’t me! If you don’t believe me, ask Su Mei!” Hanri roared, his throat nearly torn by his shout.

Su Mei, engrossed in her task, paid no heed to the two men, focusing all her attention on healing Xu Hai.

Xu Xing licked the blood welling from the corner of his mouth and smiled, tearing open his clothes to reveal his finely chiseled muscles. A faint seven-colored light shimmered over his body, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Xu Hai like those of an old hunter staring down his prey. This powerful presence had long since surpassed the realm of Qi Refining, his strength pressing close to the early Foundation Establishment stage.

“If that’s how it is, then don’t blame me,” he said.

Hanri closed his eyes, pressed his palms together, and began to chant:

“Scripture of the Cross, Annihilation!”

The ancient swastika symbol manifested, spat from his lips, and shot toward Xu Xing with blinding speed. Xu Xing made no move to dodge, bellowing roughly, “Come on! I fear you not! I’ll see your bones scattered and your flesh gone!”

He met the swastika head-on with his bare body, bracing against its raging spiritual power. A tremendous shockwave exploded outward, flattening the courtyard and sending the Xu family’s servants fleeing in terror.

A few branches and leaves fell from the willow tree.

In that instant, the spot where Xu Xing stood became shrouded in swirling yellow dust and chaos, his location obscured from sight.

Xu Xing emerged from the sand, his body torn and bloodied, wounds streaming from every limb.

Hanri wasted no time—he could only use the Scripture of the Cross once, given his limited spiritual power. He drew out his white fan, repeating anxiously, “I don’t want to hurt you, Xu Xing! Wake up, please!”

Looking at Xu Xing, so lost to madness, Hanri was at a loss. This was his divine weapon; last time, he hadn’t dared use it for fear of killing both Xu Xing and Xu Hai with a single strike. But now, with Xu Xing in this state, it was a matter of life or death—one of them would not survive.

Xu Xing staggered forward, limping, leaving a trail of blood as the flowers underfoot, like a sorrowful stream, parted to let him pass.

“Then don’t blame me!” Hanri declared, snapping open the fan. From its folds, a flood dragon emerged. He hurled the fan into the air.

The dragon burst forth, its roar shaking the courtyard, the yellow sand trembling with it. Hanri gave a low shout: “Go.”

Like a dragon plunging into the sea, it soared toward Xu Xing, carrying the majesty of ancestors and a terrifying intent to kill.

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Xu Xing stopped in his tracks, staring directly at Hanri. His lips shifted rapidly, and in his eyes, two blazing characters appeared, spinning.

“The Great Incineration Art: Peaceful Wind.”

This was a formula that, during his recent breakthrough, had surfaced in his mind after fragments of memory had been cleansed—a more advanced version of his Divine Essence secret technique.

A great wind rose, howling furiously, sweeping up the willow branches in the courtyard.

“Break!” Xu Xing roared.

Hanri was aghast—the power of these blazing characters was in no way inferior to his own.

Since when had Xu Xing become so strong? And what was this Sanskrit-like script? What had become of him? Hanri wondered.

The gale coalesced into a mysterious Sanskrit character, clashing head-on with the swastika.

The shockwave swept both Hanri and Xu Xing away, leaving them vomiting blood and collapsed on the ground.

When the dark clouds by the sea finally dissipated, the wind blew quietly across the courtyard.

Xu Xing opened his eyes and got up, feeling a cool energy flowing into his body—it was Hanri, healing him. Xu Xing tried to dodge, but his whole body ached unbearably.

“Don’t move. I told you it wasn’t me,” Hanri said gently.

Moved by Hanri’s actions, Xu Xing wondered—could it really be true that he wasn’t the culprit?

“Xu Xing, he really isn’t the one. What’s wrong with your brother? How did he get poisoned by whale toxin?” Su Mei said, finally opening her eyes.

She spread her hands, and the sapling appeared again. The dark green leaves turned to wisps of green smoke, which entered Xu Hai’s body.

Xu Hai now looked to be in great pain, eyes tightly shut, brow furrowed, screaming, “It hurts! It’s killing me!”

“How did you manage to hold on with such willpower? Don’t you know, if I hadn’t stopped just now, you would have been consumed by yourself and died here?” Hanri asked.

“Did I fall into madness?”

“Yes. And what about that blazing script of yours?” Hanri pressed.

“That’s from the books I read daily, my own insights,” Xu Xing replied.

At this, Hanri grew quite interested—he had sensed just now how powerful that Sanskrit character had been, and asked again, “What book?”

Xu Xing patted his chest and answered, “Never Admit Defeat!”

The courtyard fell silent. Su Mei continued healing her brother, unconcerned with the recent battle between Xu Xing and Hanri. She was intent on preventing her brother’s injuries from worsening. What warmed Xu Xing’s heart was the realization that Hanri truly hadn’t caused the whale toxin.

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After Hanri had infused a divine rune into Xu Xing, Xu Xing felt power surge through him once more, his wounds healing visibly.

Xu Xing rose, gazing at the willow tree. During the battle, a force from the willow had entered his body, boosting his strength enough to fight Hanri. He bowed deeply in gratitude.

“Thank you for sheltering me,” he murmured.

Now, not a trace of battle remained in the courtyard.

Confused and disoriented, Xu Xing calmed himself and watched over Xu Hai, pondering how his brother—who had never strayed or caused trouble—could have ended up like this. He searched his memories.

His brother’s face was twisted in pain. Xu Xing stepped forward, embracing him, but could feel his brother’s warmth fading away. Perplexed, Xu Xing recalled Su Mei’s words: whale toxin?

“I remember now. Yesterday Hanri spilled whale oil from that ancient lamp—perhaps it spread across the ground. But why is it only my brother who’s poisoned, while Hanri and I are fine?”

Xu Hai lay limp in Xu Xing’s arms, foam at his lips. What was going on? Xu Xing’s anger flared as he glared at Hanri.

Hanri, standing aside, looked fearful—he didn’t want to be Xu Xing’s enemy. How could he have known the whale oil was poisonous? And why had only Xu Hai suffered, while Xu Xing and he remained untouched?

“Your brother’s poison may be the work of the Root-Eater Clan—they devour cultivators’ spiritual roots. Look at his earlobes and his abdomen,” Su Mei said after a pause.

She lifted Xu Hai’s shirt, and when Xu Xing saw his earlobes, he was horrified.

What was happening? Xu Hai’s body was starting to rot—even his ears were riddled with bloody holes.

Surely someone was working in the shadows; Xu Hai, simple and honest, devoted himself only to his cultivation—how could he have provoked such trouble? Suspicion blooming, Xu Xing thought of his nemesis, Li Chunyi, whose family had been assimilated by the Root-Eater Clan and who had a complicated history with the Xu brothers. Could it be him? Or perhaps Xu Hai had been ambushed at Nanshan Academy during his martial training?

“Sister Su Mei, what should we do?” Xu Xing’s voice was tinged with misery, his eyes wet with tears.

Outside, maple leaves drifted in through the door on the autumn wind. Xu Xing stood beneath the willow, its branches trembling gently. The autumn sun no longer felt warm, but cold and biting.

In that moment, Xu Xing’s heart seemed to shatter—this was his own brother. How could fate be so cruel?

“Xu Xing, I’ll take your brother into the city for treatment immediately. Your task now is to clear your brother’s name at the final trial,” Su Mei said.

As he watched Xu Xing collapse to the ground, memories of the many hardships he’d endured on Blue Star—witnessing countless partings without ever shedding a tear—came flooding back. But now, holding his brother in his arms, his tears fell like rain.

In the end, blood ties always outweighed all else.

“It must be the Root-Eater Clan—only them, only Li Chunyi! Now everything makes sense—this was all the doing of the demon clans, the Root-Eater Clan!” Xu Xing roared at the sky, his eyes flashing as he glanced at the willow tree.

Now he had a clear idea—there was no way the Root-Eater Clan was uninvolved.

“The Root-Eater Clan is truly insidious!”