A surge of desire and contention was sparked by the discovery of a plant laden with Cold Spirit Grass clinging to the side of the pool.

"Ah—!"

The gray shadow didn't manage to escape with the small black weed in time, struck instead by over a dozen spirit blades and swords raining down from all directions. The spiritual grass flew from its grasp; with a scream, the figure disintegrated into ash. Immediately following, the remaining combatants resumed their vicious struggle for the herb.

Though hundreds of cultivators were gathered around the Cold Pool, only a select few moved to seize the Cold Spirit Grass. Interest in it was primarily among those intending to join the Azure Pill Sect; even securing the herb offered little toward such an ambition, certainly not enough for entry. Thus, only about a dozen monks whose need was intensely urgent actually made a move.

The rest of the cultivators merely stood with their arms crossed, adopting the posture of spectators watching a good show.

Those high-level cultivators at the eighth or ninth layer of Qi Condensation didn't spare the Cold Spirit Grass a second glance. Their true target was the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile; only by claiming its horn could one secure undisputed entry into the Ancient Artifact Sect.

This chaos ignited by the Cold Spirit Grass arrived quickly and dissipated just as fast. A thin, aging Daoist of the sixth layer of Qi Condensation swept his long sleeve, snatched the herb, and bolted away, sprinting toward the distance. Three or four cultivators, stuck at the fifth or sixth layer, refused to let the prize go and pursued fiercely, quickly vanishing together from sight. Life around the Cold Pool resumed its normalcy, as if nothing had transpired.

Ye Qin watched the scene unfold with calm detachment. Though tempted, he calculated that he stood little chance of wresting the Cold Spirit Grass from those of his own cultivation level, and so he refrained from joining the chase.

He lightly leaped down from the waterfall, landing softly on the damp, grassy earth, and slowly approached the edge of the pool where the crowd gathered.

The Cold Pool had already been "dug" out to a depth of several dozen zhang, emitting wisps of piercing cold air. The water was frozen solid, and more ice blocks were continually being hauled away. The pool spanned several mu in circumference and was bottomless; surely, there was more than one Cold Spirit Grass lurking within. As the excavation delved deeper, more might be uncovered.

He now possessed the Palm Sword, the Flame Blade, and a considerable store of Flame Thorn seeds—a full arsenal for both ranged and close combat, capable of entangling foes. He possessed the power to survive even against masters, no longer the cannon fodder who died the moment battle commenced.

The Black Horn, however, was already eyed by dozens of cultivators at the late stages of Earthly Perfection; it was surely beyond his reach. But other treasures within the Cold Pool, like the Cold Spirit Grass, he might yet manage to obtain one.

With this goal in mind, Ye Qin firmly rooted himself by the Cold Pool, waiting for his chance.

It took a full ten-plus days for the Cold Pool to be excavated another forty to fifty zhang deep. Occasionally, a few Cold Spirit Grasses or other rare herbs would be unearthed, only to be immediately seized and fought over by the cultivators.

During these ten-odd days, the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile would periodically surface with a sudden lunge, tearing one or two monks apart before swiftly retreating to hide beneath the depths. Moreover, the deeper they dug, the more frequently and violently the crocodile erupted. Merely removing the pool’s water had cost more than ten cultivators their lives.

"We’re nearing the bottom! Everyone dig deeper! Find the crocodile's lair and see where it can hide then!"

A cultivator had struck the sludge at the pool's floor, and the gathered monks erupted in excitement.

But their elation was short-lived.

"Hoo!"

A deafening roar, like a massive war drum booming, echoed through the great canyon. A demon crocodile, entirely covered in black scales, violently erupted from the pool. Its tail thrashed wildly, sweeping several cultivators closest to it clean in half. Their protective spiritual shields offered no resistance against the razor-sharp scales of its tail; blood instantly dyed the entire Cold Pool red.

This time, the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile did not hide beneath the water but instead furiously pursued and snapped at the monks within the pool.

"The Black-Horned Crocodile is out! Gods, run!"

"Don't block me, get out of the way!"

The shrieks and cries of the lower-level cultivators rose one after another as they fled the pool in desperation. Against second or third-tier demonic beasts, some might have managed a fight, but a fourth-tier beast was on par with a Core Formation cultivator—far beyond the power of any single Qi Condensation practitioner to face.

Even a group of several hundred Qi Condensation cultivators, lacking coordination, could not hope to subdue such a fierce beast. They scrambled frantically up the sheer walls of the pool, leaping onto the surface.

Dozens of cultivators at the eighth and ninth layers of Qi Condensation were greatly energized. They immediately marshaled their small teams, unleashed various magical arts, and, ignoring those still trapped below, unleashed a bombardment toward the pool’s depths where the crocodile lurked.

The Black-Horned Demon Crocodile’s scales proved astonishingly resilient. Fireballs, water arrows, and wind blades pelted its hide, leaving not even a scratch. It swiftly gripped the rocky walls of the Cold Pool and, with a few swift movements, hauled itself onto the bank.

The crowd of monks scattered in panic, desperate to avoid becoming targets of the beast.

As soon as it emerged, the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile lowered its head and shot a stream of intensely cold mist from the black horn atop its head toward the surrounding cultivators. The slower, lower-level monks were almost instantly frozen solid, becoming human ice sculptures, which were then swept away by its violent tail, shattering the ice into countless bloody shards.

The monks, naturally, were not foolish enough to stand and be frozen; they fled in disarray out of range of the chilling mist.

Within a hundred zhang of the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile, not a single cultivator remained standing. It lifted its gaze toward the distant crowd with an expression of immense disdain. It flicked its massive black tail and unhurriedly began crawling downstream along the brook on all fours.

Hundreds of cultivators, still shaken, exchanged glances. That creature was too arrogant; it paid the assembled monks no mind whatsoever.

"Kill!"

A murderous gleam flashed in the eyes of the high-level cultivators. Wealth claims the man, food calls the bird; to seize the Black Horn, to chase the path of immortality through the Ancient Artifact Gate, they must fight! They hurled their magical artifacts, pursuing the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile and unleashing another round of furious bombardment.

Nearly a hundred high-level Qi Condensation cultivators chased after the beast, attacking in an attempt to annihilate it.

Holding his Flame Blade, Ye Qin stood hundreds of zhang away from the Cold Pool, quietly observing the high-level cultivators pursuing the Black-Horned Demon Crocodile. He did not follow. Since he stood no chance of snatching the horn from those powerful cultivators, hunting the crocodile was not his concern, and he certainly had no desire to join the melee.

Ye Qin turned his attention back to the Cold Pool itself; that was his objective and the reason he had lingered here for over ten days.

Sharing his mindset were one to two hundred cultivators from the middle tiers (fourth to sixth layers of Qi Condensation) and the lower-tier third-layer monks. None of them intended to pursue the crocodile; instead, they focused their sights on the Cold Pool.

With the beast gone from the bottom, it was now safe—the perfect opportunity to scour the wide pool floor for spirit grasses. Furthermore, at least a dozen monks had died down there, meaning their possessions were certainly not insignificant.

The middle and lower-tier cultivators glanced at each other, their expressions strangely complicated. Suddenly, as if sharing a telepathic understanding, they charged toward the Cold Pool in unison, intent on plundering what lay beneath.

Ye Qin cast a Vajra Shield spell upon himself. Holding the Flame Blade, he mixed into the crowd, cautiously watching the surrounding monks, seeking to fish in troubled waters.

He had long considered this.

There were nearly two hundred cultivators present—rogue cultivators and family members—their origins complex and unknown. No one knew who had allies, how large those teams were, or how strong they might be. He, however, was alone, without any support structure. Unless he possessed some supreme treasure, others wouldn't attack him without provocation. Before any genuine spiritual item was discovered, nobody would start a fight carelessly.

In fact, being solitary in the crowd held an advantage: every person nearby was a competitor, not an ally. When he struck, he would have no qualms about collateral damage.

Based on this reasoning, he unhesitatingly followed the throng of cultivators plunging into the Cold Pool.

At the bottom of the hundred-zhang deep pool, various spiritual items were quickly discovered.

"Heavens! A rare Ice Spirit Stone, and such a large chunk! Hey! Who attacked me just now? Step out, I’ll skin you! Don’t play dumb, who hit my rear end with a fireball?"

A burly man encased in a yellow protective aura stood upon an Ice Spirit Stone, wielding a blade to dominate the stone with one hand while clutching his backside with the other, roaring furiously at the monks behind him.

Dozens of monks behind him all feigned ignorance, pretending not to see, and none would point out who had launched the fireball. The brute dared not fight dozens of cultivators simultaneously, so he had to swallow his rage.

Ice Spirit Stones, Wind Spirit Stones, and Thunder Spirit Stones—these were three types of rare, exotic stones seldom seen; even cultivators in Immortal Fate City might struggle to find them. Yet, this Cold Pool held numerous lower-grade Ice Spirit Stones, inciting a fierce scramble among the monks.

The pool floor grew increasingly chaotic. Monks jostled for spirit items while simultaneously launching spells at their rivals, backstabbing one another—a fierce firefight erupted. "Get away!" "Dare to fight me for the spirit stone? Die!"

Ye Qin strove to remain inconspicuous, his eyes and hands quick as he managed to snatch several smaller Ice Spirit Stones, tucking them into his sleeve. However, the chaos at the bottom, with spells flying everywhere, threatened to strike him at any moment, causing his protective shield to vibrate constantly, preventing him from searching for herbs in peace.

Anxious, a sudden, "wicked" thought flashed through Ye Qin’s mind.

He stealthily hid in a rocky corner at the pool's bottom, transplanted a fruiting Flame Thorn shrub from his Purple Mansion onto the Cold Pool wall, and then executed an Earth Evasion spell to teleport dozens of zhang away.

"Flame Thorn! My God, there’s a second-tier variant spirit shrub here—a rare treasure! One fruit is worth several hundred spirit stones! I found it! Don't fight me over it!"

Ye Qin pointed at the Flame Thorn in the corner, adopting an expression of wild ecstasy, and shouted loudly before charging toward the shrub.

Dozens of monks who had been busy snatching spirit herbs and stones froze, turning their gazes to where he pointed. They immediately saw a strange plant growing on the side of the Cold Pool.

It resembled a wood thorn bush, yet it shone with a dazzling brilliance like fire. Moreover, it bore quite a few fruits—the fruits of a spiritual wood, which held extraordinary value.

In the ensuing confusion, few bothered to contemplate why a fire-element shrub would appear at the bottom of such a frigid pool. The first reaction of the monks was simple: whatever the spirit item, they must seize it before someone else did! Instantly, dozens of figures lunged toward the Flame Thorn.

Ye Qin secretly laughed. Halfway through his sprint, he abruptly wheeled around and returned, using the moment to pick up other spiritual items scattered nearby.