The cold wind was a knife, using the earth as its anvil.

It viewed all living things as so much meat.

Ten thousand miles of flying snow transformed the firmament into a great furnace, melting all creation into silver.

As the winter wind swept across this vast, dense jungle, He Yiming too had become the wind, drifting within it.

However, wherever he passed, there would be a trail of blood and slaughter.

In the distance, a figure ran frantically through the woods.

Though he was already gasping for breath, he dared not pause for even a moment.

As members of the Wolf Totem Clan, they possessed a tenacity and endurance few others could match.

Despite reaching the very limits of physical exhaustion, he pressed on relentlessly.

As long as there remained a single shred of strength within his body, he would never surrender.

Then, abruptly, a gust of wind blew past.

In a daze, he sensed that this particular wind was subtly different from all the others, though he couldn't instantly discern how.

Suddenly, a black shadow flashed before his eyes.

Its appearance was startlingly sudden; he had no idea where it had come from.

A chill seized his heart, and he vaguely felt an icy cold penetrate his bones.

Could his luck truly be this abysmal—was the mysterious assassin already in this direction? But he dismissed the thought the next moment, for he had been running without rest for nearly half a day.

Not only that, but he had also made two sharp turns midway, laying down several false trails to the best of his ability.

He held a firm conviction: unless he stumbled directly into the path of that mysterious assassin, his chances of escape were maximized.

Now that half the day had passed, his confidence only strengthened.

Even if Ambassador Suoge himself were to lead the pursuit, finding his whereabouts would not be so easy.

Yet, just as he was certain he had slipped beyond the assassin’s hunting range, he suddenly saw the shadow that had just swept past stop dead still.

It halted squarely on the path of his forward momentum.

His face, flushed crimson from the excessive running, instantly paled to the color of the snow in the forest...

At this moment, the only person who could possibly arrive here and block his way was one individual.

He Yiming turned, his cold gaze fixed upon the figure, as if looking upon a corpse.

The man, recognizing He Yiming’s face, cried out in shock, “Impossible! How could it be you…” These Totem Clan members had all seen He Yiming’s face upon arriving at Hengshan and knew him to be a supreme master cultivating all Five Elements.

But the mysterious assassin who struck was clearly a Grand Shen killer proficient in the arts of assassination.

His methods bore no resemblance to He Yiming’s cultivation techniques, which is why no one had suspected him from start to finish.

He Yiming’s expression was icy.

He extended his hand and thrust his sword straight out.

This strike possessed no formal technique; it was pure speed, executed instantaneously, achieving the utmost swiftness.

The man tried to speak, but a sharp pain struck his throat, and he immediately tumbled backward.

His body convulsed twice, then lay still, motionless.

In his fading moments, he seemed to hear a faint, almost ethereal whisper: “The fifty-second.” ※※※※ In the jungle, desolate pits could often be seen.

Some of these pits were covered with fallen leaves, others topped with accumulated loose soil, suggesting one step would send one tumbling in.

At this moment, a Wolf Totem Clan member was hidden within one such cave.

Above his head was a thick layer of mud, coating his entire body.

He closed his eyes, lying there quietly.

Despite the harshness of his surroundings, his expression suggested he was languidly savoring the moment.

He had left that place a full day ago.

After successfully evading pursuit for half the day, he had burrowed into this mud-filled hollow.

He carried sufficient dried rations and water.

Given the Wolf Totem Clan’s capacity for hunger, he could remain hidden here for an entire month.

This was precisely his plan: to emerge only after a month, by which time, regardless of who had won or lost, the dust would have settled.

However, just as he lay there, drifting toward sleep, his vision suddenly dimmed, followed by a flash of black light.

A searing pain pierced his chest, as if something had run straight through him.

He roared, unleashing the entirety of his strength in that final, dying moment, managing to leap up out of the mud.

With a heavy thud, he crashed onto the ground.

He lifted his head with immense effort, looking at the familiar face before him, his eyes filled with disbelief.

His mouth gaped open like a gasping fish pulled from water, murmuring, “How… how did you find me…” He Yiming’s face remained expressionless.

Beside him, another figure appeared—it was Bai Lingba.

This mysterious individual extended a foot.

On the sole of his boot was a small, rice-grain-sized chip.

The Wolf Totem Clan member, mortally wounded by the sword in his chest, suddenly’s eyes widened.

He witnessed something unimaginable.

Before his eyes, a trickle of silver liquid flowed rapidly forward.

This stream of blood reached Bai Lingba’s foot and then merged into it.

Simultaneously, the rice-grain-sized chip on Bai Lingba’s boot was inexplicably mended.

The Totem Clan member’s mouth hung open.

He seemed to grasp a horrifying truth, and in his eyes bloomed an extreme terror.

In his last moments, the single word that escaped his lips was: “Ghost…” He Yiming withdrew his gaze from the dying man, stating coldly, “Seventy-six.

All the escapees are accounted for.” Bai Lingba nodded slightly.

Although he hadn’t executed the strikes himself, he had provided the exact locations of these individuals.

Without him, even if He Yiming had been split in two, he could never have killed all seventy-two escapees within a single day.

“These people… they were innocent,” Bai Lingba suddenly said.

He Yiming’s body stiffened, but only for an instant before returning to normal.

He turned to leave, proclaiming, “Since they came to Hengshan, they are not innocent.” Bai Lingba followed him slowly.

“You have changed.” “Yes, I have changed.” “You have no regrets?” He Yiming paused, a fierce fire burning in his eyes.

“Of course I regret it… I regret why, when these wolf cubs first arrived at Hengshan, I didn’t use the Great Guan Dao… I gave them the chance to strike back.

If I had taken Suoge’s head earlier, how could Elder Brother Shui have died?” His voice was thick with remorse.

“It turns out that eliminating evil completely means striking down everyone who wishes you dead as soon as possible.

All talk of turning enemies into friends or leaving an escape route is just courting death.” Though his voice dripped with venom, he deliberately suppressed its volume; even as snow swirled around them, his words did not travel far.

“Do you still have no concern for the Totem Clan?” Bai Lingba suddenly inquired.

He Yiming was silent for a moment.

“Anyone who wishes to kill you—no matter how powerful the faction behind them—cannot be tolerated.” He took a deep breath, as if taking an oath, and stated firmly, “I do not wish to make any more mistakes that I will regret.” Bai Lingba’s eyes flickered, and he said no more.

He Yiming let out a long breath.

“Ten more, and then we can return.” Bai Lingba looked at him impassively.

“These last ten—are you certain?” “Without you, success would certainly be impossible,” He Yiming chuckled darkly.

“I need you to do one more thing for me…” “I have already helped you a great deal.” “The final time,” He Yiming lowered his voice.

“It truly is only the very last time…” Bai Lingba looked at him silently.

After an indeterminate time, his head gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

※※※※ Upon a half-height mountain, Bai Lingba’s eyes shone with intense light.

Within his pupils, his vision was autonomously adjusting.

After a moment, he murmured, “Found them.” He Yiming stood beside him, staring intently into Bai Lingba’s eyes.

Within those gem-like irises, the silhouettes of several people appeared.

With just one glance, He Yiming recognized them: they were the remaining eight Totem Envoys.

The eight walked abreast, moving cautiously through the woods.

Judging by their demeanor, they looked less like eight Totem Envoys equivalent to the Xiantian realm, and more like eight Post-Heaven Fifth Layer practitioners, lacking confidence, stepping into a forest for the first time.

Their pace was slow and meticulous, scrutinizing every potentially suspicious location that crossed their sight.

The deaths of their two comrades had served as a stark warning.

The mysterious and formidable assassin had strung their nerves as tightly as bowstrings, daring them to relax even for an instant.

Bai Lingba’s gaze shifted slowly, and soon, a figure and a wolf appeared within his sight.

As He Yiming clearly saw this man and wolf, an unconcealed, intense killing intent flashed in his eyes.

Bai Lingba’s gaze continued to move, and soon, a solitary, short figure materialized there.

He Yiming’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Upon seeing the person he hated most, his heart surprisingly calmed.

“One li apart,” Bai Lingba stated slowly.

“No matter whom you ambush, you will only have ten moves.” “Ten moves?” He Yiming gave a hollow laugh.

“One move is enough.” He turned his head.

“Bai Lingba, my life is in your hands now.

You must not disappoint me…” ※※※※ Walking through the snow-covered jungle, with life potentially threatened at any moment, was hardly an enjoyable experience for anyone.

Halin and the others passed through a stretch of snow, and a quarter of an hour later, Suoge and the Red Wolf King ambled through the same area.

However, shortly after they departed, a large tree appeared inexplicably in the woods.

Its sudden presence was abrupt, yet its location was so perfectly chosen that it seemed to cause no disturbance to the surroundings.

A moment later, a short figure approached.

Though his body was only child-sized, his face was that of a genuine old man.

Coiled around him was a snake, sinisterly thick as a bamboo stick.

As the old man drew nearer, he suddenly stopped.

Beneath his aged face, a look of profound surprise surfaced.

As an assassin lurking in the shadows, his sense of danger far surpassed that of ordinary people.

When He Yiming conducted his first nighttime raid, this man was the first to detect it.

Perhaps his martial prowess or speed were not as outstanding as Suoge’s, but his methods of killing were certainly his equal, if not superior.

Yet, at this moment, he felt an extreme, bone-chilling sense of peril.

He had experienced this sensation many times before.

Decades ago, after earning the recognition of the Stone King, he and his snake had participated in a certain death ritual within the Sacred Land.

After surviving that intensely dangerous environment, he had not only broken his limits to become a Great Envoy of the clan, but the Stone King had also gained a powerful mutation ability, becoming his best aid.

At that time, the reason he avoided danger and successfully completed the ritual was precisely this miraculous sensitivity to peril.

Now, as that strong premonition of crisis reemerged, his heart tightened.

The Stone King on his body also seemed to sense the danger; the coiled snake head rose high, the triangular head resting atop his own head, poised to strike at any moment.

He gently brushed his waist, and a faintly glowing blue dagger appeared in his hand.

This dagger was remarkably short, looking almost comical.

But for his stature and martial arts, combined with the strange snake on his body, this dagger was the perfectly tailored ultimate treasure.

Unlike other powerhouses, even when exerting his full strength, his aura did not seem overwhelming; he felt like a bubble floating on water, ready to vanish at any second.

His gaze swept everywhere, absorbing everything.

Vaguely, he sensed something was amiss, but even with his vast experience, he could not instantly pinpoint the incongruity.

Just as his brow furrowed tighter, a faint sound reached his ears.

This sound acted like the fuse being lit on dynamite, sending his entire body into a state of extreme alertness.

He glanced sideways and immediately located the source of the bizarre sound… A large tree, identical to the surrounding snow-covered trees, instantly changed color.

The snow-white hue peeled away, revealing a metallic sheen.

More incredibly, the tree seemed to come alive.

In the next instant, it transformed into a person—a living, breathing… human.

She Ru and the strange snake on his body held their breath, an action formed purely by instinct.

Anyone witnessing such a sight would likely react the same way.

As cold dread filled the hearts of this man and snake, feeling as though they had seen a ghost, they suddenly saw the figure shift sideways.

Behind him stood a person holding a long weapon raised high.

Then, they felt a wave of killing intent—a vast, immense murderous aura that had somehow permeated the air to its absolute limit.

※※※※ When Bai Lingba morphed into human form and instantly phased out of his spatial concealment, He Yiming, wielding the Great Guan Dao, was revealed.

He Yiming had put away his Wind Shoes and Forked Sword.

In his hands rested the massive, terrifying Great Guan Dao.

All the true qi within his body circulated without reservation: starting with Water Qi, then Wood, Fire, Earth, finally transforming into the all-piercing Metal Qi.

Having retreated into Bai Lingba’s body, he had already begun to condense his qi.

Now, it was a natural progression, reaching its absolute zenith.

In the span of a single breath in and out, He Yiming unleashed all his inherent true qi.

The Great Guan Dao held high above his head radiated boundless majesty.

Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting, Twenty-Second Form… She Ru’s expression changed drastically.

The moment the pressure of this move rose, he decided he could not meet it head-on under any circumstances.

The strange snake, Stone King, coiled around him, immediately understood his intent, seemingly preparing to drag She Ru underground.

But at that precise moment, the actions of the man and the snake halted abruptly.

They clearly felt as if the air around them had solidified, clamped tightly by a massive, invisible hand, restraining them.

At this moment, whether they wished to fly skyward or burrow underground, they seemed to have lost the ability to do so.

She Ru’s face paled; he instantly understood this was the power of ‘Formless Manifested into Form.’ When he sensed the binding force surrounding him, his heart filled with extreme horror.

He suddenly realized why this person dared to pursue the numerous Totem Envoys so relentlessly.

It turned out he was such a formidable powerhouse.

Formless Manifested into Form—in the Totem Clan, only experts at the Saint level could wield such a force.

This person was actually a Saint-level supreme expert.

But if this person possessed such overwhelming strength, why had he been so sneaky and secretive, rather than simply killing them all in a direct assault? Countless thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind.

Only now did he truly see the face of the person before him clearly.

His eyes snapped wide open… It was He Yiming—He Yiming, the one who had fought them at the foot of Hengshan and escaped their final lethal strike.

Before seeing his opponent’s face, no matter how much he guessed, he could never have imagined this person was He Yiming.

That bizarre assassination technique had absolutely no connection to He Yiming’s Five Element true qi.

Yet the face before him revealed a truth that was utterly unimaginable.

She Ru’s heart was filled with disbelief.

He stared at He Yiming, unable to comprehend how this young man, who could at most condense half a Manifested Flower, could unleash such an inconceivable strike.

The giant blade instantly tore through space, arriving above his head like a flash of lightning.

The distance between them seemed to have been completely traversed in a single stride.

The panic in She Ru’s eyes vanished.

The words Suoge had once spoken flashed through his mind.

If this man does not die, the Totem Clan will never know peace.

He vaguely understood the true reason why Suoge was determined to kill this man, regardless of the cost.

Just as the blade’s light was about to descend, the strange snake, Stone King, on his body let out a low, hoarse hiss.

Its body detached from She Ru, coiling toward the Great Guan Dao like a long whip.

It intended to meet the Great Guan Dao head-on with its own tough body.

She Ru’s heart bled.

He bit his tongue, a trace of blood escaping his lips.

True qi surged within him, finally allowing him to break free from the pressure’s confinement.

He rushed forward, sacrificing his safety.

At this moment, he seemed to have forgotten death; showing no defensive posture, he instead let out a fierce cry, flicked his wrist, and sent the dagger flying out, counter-charging upward from an extremely bizarre angle.

His face was hideously distorted, making him look like a ghoul or demon when paired with the triangular snake head above him, resembling a vengeful spirit dragged up from the depths of hell.

However, above them, gold light shimmered, and the Great Guan Dao roared down like the midday sun.

The great blade swung toward the demon’s head…