The wind howled, tearing through the tranquil black mist, twisting a pocket of silence into a vortex.

A piercing, savage shriek ripped through the heavens, echoing throughout the fog.

Within this black miasma, even He Yiming dared not move recklessly. For hidden here were too many perils, crises that pure martial strength alone could not repel entirely.

Yet, those who had lost their sanity knew nothing of danger; they were driven only by instinct.

Just like this man. Upon hearing a howl identical to his own, he instantly abandoned his spot and bolted toward the source of the sound.

His speed was incredible; the rugged, difficult mountain paths seemed flat beneath his feet. This much was clear: he was no mere fool; his own formidable martial power compensated for his lack of reason.

However, as he rushed past a narrow mountain hollow, his foot suddenly snagged, and he tumbled forward like a discarded ball.

At the center of this hollow, a thin, silvery line had inexplicably appeared. This line was incredibly tough; even with the man's momentum, he could not break it.

The man roared in extreme fury. Although he hadn't been physically injured—or rather, such minor damage was inconsequential given the myriad wounds already scarring his body—being interrupted mid-stride was deeply aggravating.

He braced his legs, intending to leap up.

Suddenly, a needle-like flash of crimson light darted out, drifting soundlessly through the black mist toward the man.

Without any warning, as the rushing mountain wind carried it near, the tail end of the needle-like light suddenly burst when it was mere inches from him. Struck by this force, the tip accelerated rapidly, plunging deep into the man’s body in an instant.

A tiny bit of needle-shaped Zhenqi (True Energy) was incapable of harming such a crazed individual, but the moment the red needle pierced him, the man instantly stiffened. Moreover, a thin layer of white frost began to spread across his body.

If this frost layer hadn't been so slight, one might have mistaken it for a suit of ice armor.

Subsequently, a finger seemed to extend from the void and pressed lightly against the man’s temple.

Vast amounts of Zhenqi surged, condensing into a single point, and then violently struck.

A gentle, almost imperceptible, peculiar sound dissolved into the mountain wind, as if nothing had happened. The man’s body went limp and collapsed. In the final moments before death, his sanity seemed to return, and his blood-reddened eyes revealed a look of release mixed with intense reluctance.

He let out a soft sigh. He Yiming’s figure materialized beside him, quietly observing those eyes filled with lingering attachment.

He Yiming believed that if this man had been given another chance, he absolutely would not have allowed Hao Xue and the other two to succeed so easily.

But alas, he had permanently lost that opportunity.

His gaze swept over the body twice. His eyes brightened slightly, and he reached toward the man’s waist, swiftly drawing out a long whip over ten feet in length.

The whip was covered in minute scales. Although He Yiming could not identify the creature they were stripped from, judging by the scales’ dark, lustrous color and their razor-sharp edges, He Yiming knew the creature must have been extraordinary in life.

However, regardless of its former glory, it was dead now and had been rendered into a whip.

Infusing Zhenqi into it, He Yiming immediately encountered fierce resistance from an alien form of True Energy. He smiled faintly; he had finally acquired a formidable divine weapon.

Coiling the whip around himself, He Yiming reached out an empty hand and grasped. Instantly, he lifted the dead man.

The corpse was covered in wounds, almost entirely drained of blood, and was utterly filthy. He Yiming had no desire to leave behind any evidence that could easily link him to the scene, which was why he used this method of remote manipulation to quietly move the body away.

Arriving three hundred meters away, He Yiming did not press forward but waited patiently.

As expected, it wasn't long before Hao Xue and the other two hurried into view, their faces etched with anxiety and frustration.

He Yiming, utilizing Hundred and Eight, clearly observed the expressions on their faces.

A cold sneer touched the corner of his mouth; He Yiming understood their current mood perfectly.

By his count, they had successfully ambushed three individuals. But save for the second, whom they cornered and dispatched easily within a mountain cave, the other two had been drawn away by the same haunting howls.

Such aggravating failures happening one after another naturally left them looking displeased.

The silvery line in the hollow had long since vanished. Though the three possessed keen sight and broad knowledge, they could only pinpoint where the man had fallen but had no idea why he had stumbled so suddenly.

The trio stopped and examined the spot. Zhu Guanhao remarked, "He stumbled, but he quickly got up and headed this way."

Following the direction his finger pointed, a distinct trail reappeared. However, these tracks differed slightly from the first set; they suggested the man had rolled rather than walked.

Had Hao Xue and the others witnessed the preceding scene, they would instantly know these marks were not left by the man himself. But now, they remained completely unaware.

They followed the tracks for a short distance before stopping simultaneously.

Before them yawned an unfathomably deep, sheer cliff face. In this environment shrouded by black mist, even if they possessed ten times their current courage, none would dare leap down easily.

They exchanged glances, offering wry, helpless smiles. They had once again wasted half a day in vain.

"Hmph, rotten luck," Fang Sheng grumbled resentfully.

Under normal circumstances, Fang Sheng would never have behaved so carelessly. But in this treacherous environment, they had to expend most of their energy resisting the impact of the Yin Sha Qi while simultaneously enduring immense psychological pressure. Thus, even Fang Sheng could not help blurting out his true feelings.

Hao Xue sighed deeply. "Forget it. We already have two Blood Condensing Pearls. Seven more and we can stop. Even finding one a day is more than enough."

Fang Sheng and Zhu Guanhao remained silent for a long moment before finally nodding subtly.

They cast one last look at the bottomless abyss. Perhaps having vented his earlier negative emotions, Fang Sheng seemed unusually clear-headed now. He frowned slightly. "Wait. There should be another frenzied person here."

Hao Xue and the other man felt a jolt. The reason this person abandoned them to stumble into the ravine was that another madman was nearby—the proximity of their howls was what drew him here. But now, there was no trace of a second frenzied individual.

Zhu Guanhao’s expression grew grim. He retraced his steps, slowly examining the area. After a long while, he let out a slow breath. "Brother Fang, there are signs of a fight here. It must be that these two madmen encountered each other. They collided, then tumbled down the cliff grappling with one another."

Hao Xue and Fang Sheng scrutinized the surroundings carefully, and their worries eased.

The deed they were perpetrating was utterly against the natural order. If it were known, the consequences would be dire.

In that event, the powers from both the East and West would unite, exhausting every means to kill them for revenge. Consequently, their nerves had been stretched tight as a bowstring, daring not relax even for a moment.

Once assured that all was clear, the three departed with frustrated looks.

In the distance, He Yiming gave Hundred and Eight a sincere thumbs-up. "Brother Bai, your foresight is uncanny." He paused, then asked curiously, "How did you predict they would notice the matter of the other madman?"

Hundred and Eight’s cold voice replied, "It’s common sense."

He Yiming started, then could only offer a bitter laugh. Perhaps it was common sense, but under the circumstances, He Yiming had never considered the need for such a disguise; this entire maneuver had been planned and executed by Hundred and Eight. He deeply admired his foresight.

Gently placing the corpse on the ground, He Yiming hesitated, then tentatively placed his hand on the dead man's head.

In his memory, Hao Xue had used this exact method to retrieve the Blood Condensing Pearl. So, mimicking the action, he wanted to see what this pearl actually was.

Streams of powerful energy entered the corpse’s brain. He Yiming carefully sensed the various changes brought about by his own Zhenqi, and his expression gradually turned serious.

Within the man’s skull, there seemed to be a specific location harboring immense power.

However, the feeling this power imparted, beyond absolute strength, carried an equally absolute chill, causing a faint prickle of unease in He Yiming's heart.

He hesitated for a long moment, finally exerting force. Powerful Zhenqi flooded the man's cranium, slowly moving toward the source of that mysterious power.

His perception grew clearer: inside was indeed a small, spherical object.

Enveloped by his Zhenqi, the sphere slowly began to move from its location. Although He Yiming controlled it with extreme care, the energy contained within the sphere surpassed his expectations.

"Crack..."

With a light sound, the man's head finally split open, and the blood-colored sphere sprang out, exactly as intended.