Weapons without self-awareness cannot truly be called "Divine Arms." The very reason a weapon earns the designation "Divine" is because it possesses an innate life force. Only cultivators who have reached the Realm of Heaven can harness their own essence, spirit, and vitality, mixing them with rare materials to temper a Divine Arm imbued with "spirit."

In the hands of such a cultivator, where essence, spirit, and vitality are fully merged, the user can unleash their power to its absolute maximum. Furthermore, a sufficiently potent Divine Arm can grant a Heaven Realm cultivator the strength of a Seven-Star Heaven Realm expert, even if only temporarily.

This feat would be possible if they could merge with the spirit of the Seven-Star Heaven Realm expert's Divine Arm, provided they possess enough primordial energy to command it.

Grasping the dagger in his hand, primordial energy surged into it, causing the blade to suddenly glow with a brilliant silver light. Fine, crystal-clear silver lines drifted outward like threads, releasing palpable waves of power.

Ji Changkong swept his hand, and the dagger carved a magnificent arc through the air, leaving a string of bright afterimages. He had acquired this dagger from a young man, paying an exorbitant price that Bai Qingya could never understand—not only stacks of high-grade Yuan Stones, but also a Black Jade Yuan Crystal, a jar of Fire Dragon Brew, and several kinds of Cloud Dream spiritual herbs.

Only Ji Changkong knew that this dagger harbored a faint life force. Its previous owner had been an Eight Trigram Heaven Realm cultivator.

An Eight Trigram Heaven Realm expert is an object of profound reverence in any nation, in any region. The reason the century-old cultivator lineages of the Seven Great Families and Six Great Sects sit atop the hierarchy is precisely because they possess such masters.

A Divine Arm once wielded by an Eight Trigram Heaven Realm cultivator, even if its spirit has faded, fetches an astronomical price at auction. Moreover, the spirit within this dagger, though exceedingly weak, undeniably still existed.

Fifty high-grade Yuan Stones, one Black Jade Yuan Crystal, a jar of Fire Dragon Brew, and several Cloud Dream spiritual herbs—exchanging these for a Divine Arm that once bonded intimately with an Eight Trigram Heaven Realm master, whose spirit still lingered within, was a transaction more profitable than robbery!

Gripping the dagger, he focused his soul, his mind calm and centered, and suddenly, his sense plunged into the weapon.

He found himself in a vast, boundless expanse of blinding white. Scattered flecks of ghost fire drifted about, while countless shimmering silver lines twisted together, forming an intricately complex net. Faint pulses of life emanated from a single flickering flame at the center.

The moment his spiritual sense entered, the net woven from countless silver threads stirred. From the heart of the net, a powerful surge of soul fluctuation violently washed toward Ji Changkong’s own spirit.

"Get out!"

A sharp pain lanced through him, and his sense snapped back instantly. His spirit trembled, and he let out a wry, bitter smile, shaking his head.

The Divine Arm's spirit within the dagger was fiercely stubborn. Not yet having advanced to the Four Symbols Heaven Realm, he currently lacked the means to communicate with such a life form. He could not synchronize his soul with the dagger’s spirit to achieve tacit understanding, thus only accessing a tiny fraction of its true strength.

Tucking the small dagger into his spatial pouch, he took out the ring and slipped it onto his left hand. Seeing that the ten Black Ghost Insects within the ring had not managed to break the skin to draw blood, he pulled the ring off and resealed it in the pouch.

Ever since suspecting Xiao Shu of leaking his itinerary, he had been meticulously hiding any clue that might expose his identity. The ring had been traded from Xiao Shu, so it naturally couldn't remain on his hand. However, the ten Black Ghost Insects inside, having recently drawn his blood several times, had formed a subtle, delicate connection with him.

To ensure the insects continued to grow, he couldn't keep the ring locked away in the spatial pouch constantly. Thus, he would occasionally wear it for a while, only to put it away again once he confirmed the insects didn't require immediate sustenance.

That repulsive, ugly face emerged from the dense leaves of a large tree. He extended his senses carefully, ensuring the area he could perceive held no life forms that might threaten him, before dropping down from the tree. He squinted up at the blinding daylight and continued his journey toward the northwest, where the Tianwu Kingdom lay.

As evening approached, the weather abruptly changed. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and soon, hailstones the size of eggs began to rain down.

Walking along the mountain path, Ji Changkong looked up. He realized the hailstones were coming down with violent speed, striking his body painfully.

He extended his awareness and detected strong primordial energy fluctuations several dozen zhang ahead—it seemed many people were gathered there. Having actively avoided crowds until now, this time he did not steer clear but instead moved swiftly toward the location.

Patter, patter, patter!

The hailstones fell rapidly, hitting him hard. He intensified his vigilance and soon spotted a ruined ancient temple ahead, where distinct signs of primal energy lingered.

Letting out a quiet breath, he masked his aura, checked his clothing to ensure nothing looked out of the ordinary, and then, maintaining a composed expression, stepped into the ancient temple.

Whoosh, whoosh!

The people gathered inside turned their gazes toward the newcomer simultaneously, observing Ji Changkong with alert wariness.

The temple was quite large, covering several acres. In the center stood a statue of the Earth God, surrounded by several scattered groups of unfamiliar individuals.

In the left corner, sitting against the wall, were two young women who were clearly sisters. One wore a long scarlet gown, the other a long green one, both trailing to the floor. The sisters appeared tense; the red-gowned one held a sword, while the green-gowned one held a silver whip. They frowned and subtly averted their faces, seemingly put off by the birthmark on Ji Changkong's face, displaying an easily perceptible revulsion.

In the right corner sat a boy, no more than ten years old, clad in a simple grey tunic. His pair of deep, dark eyes were filled with artless innocence as he looked around. Curled at his feet was a massive python, thick as a man’s waist. This serpent had two heads, both emitting a sickly green light from their triangular eyes, and its blood-red tongue flickered out, carrying a heavy stench of gore.

Not far from three blue-robed cultivators, a frail, ashen-faced youth leaned against the wall. His complexion was pale, and he kept his head bowed, constantly covering his mouth to suppress soft, rattling coughs, as if afflicted by a serious illness.

Before the Earth God statue lay a pile of corpses, scorched as if recently ravaged by intense fire, with embers still faintly glowing among them.

Stepping inside, Ji Changkong surveyed everyone in the temple one by one, a flicker of regret crossing his mind—perhaps he shouldn't have entered. The atmosphere was eerie; no one spoke, everyone kept their eyes downcast, lost in thought.

Remaining silent, Ji Changkong frowned and walked toward the left side, intending to find a spot to sit down and wait it out. The hailstorm outside was vicious; the ice had been fist-sized before he entered, making travel impossible at this hour.

Suddenly, the two girls in the left corner stiffened, fixing him with a cold stare. Their weapons were gripped tightly, poised as if they were ready to strike at any moment.

Two Four Symbols Heaven Realm cultivators!

He quickly assessed their true cultivation levels, his expression shifting slightly. He stared at them, bewildered, unsure where their hostility stemmed from.

He abruptly halted, brushing away a nearby cobweb, and sat down not far from the two sisters.

The red-robed and green-robed girls glanced at each other. Seeing that he showed no immediate intent to attack, they relaxed fractionally, though they remained vigilant, watching Ji Changkong as if expecting him to lash out suddenly.

Hiss! Hiss!

The twin-headed python coiled at the boy's feet suddenly stirred. It slithered sluggishly across the temple floor, slowly making its way toward Ji Changkong.

The twin-headed python was a formidable beast, comparable to the Three-Eyed Dragon Python. Both heads could spew poisonous mist, and its mouth was lined with incredibly sharp, dense white fangs. It was agile and notoriously difficult to handle. There was also a twin-headed python at the Poison Dragon Pool, but it was much smaller than this one. That one was only five centuries old, whereas this one, judging by its size, likely boasted seven or eight hundred years of life.

Ji Changkong’s expression changed slightly. He had just managed to sit down, but he shot back up instantly. Reaching into the spatial pouch hidden beneath his chest garment, he snatched the small dagger—the one he couldn't yet wield to its full power—and gripped it tightly.

The two girls nearby turned deathly pale and jumped up as well, regarding the slowly approaching twin-headed python with the utmost alarm. After a moment, they glared resentfully at Ji Changkong, seemingly blaming him for bringing trouble their way.

The small dagger began to glow with a soft silver light, fine silver threads seeping out. The blade’s edge shone with an aura of absolute indestructibility. The small boy frowned, staring at the dagger in Ji Changkong’s hand for a few seconds before suddenly covering his mouth and emitting a strange, high-pitched cackle.

The twin-headed python, which had been advancing toward Ji Changkong, stopped abruptly at the sound. Its two heads wobbled, and it coiled in place. The heads separated, one focusing on Ji Changkong, the other turning toward the two girls on the opposite side.

The sisters’ expressions grew even uglier. They glared hatefully at the boy across the room but dared not sit down, remaining defensively alert for a sudden pounce from the python.

Sensing the strangely shifting dynamics, Ji Changkong glanced at the others in the temple, then suddenly grinned, ignoring the coiled python before him. He settled back down in his spot, watching the ruined temple entrance with keen interest.

Thud, thud!

Heavy footsteps rapidly approached from outside. There were several people, moving with urgency and haste; their destination was clearly this dilapidated temple.

The gazes of everyone inside snapped toward the entrance. The listless, coughing grey-robed youth finally ceased his coughing, raising his head. His eyes, a shade of pale grey, were utterly devoid of emotion.

The three blue-robed cultivators, who belonged to the same sect and had remained aloof from the surrounding situation, abruptly stood up, immediately forming a triangular defensive formation.

The boy, with his innocent, guileless smile, suddenly manifested three Flying Blood Serpents from the back of his neck. The serpents clung close to his neck and shoulders, their gaping, misty maws lined with menacing fangs, their eyes fixed coldly on the temple door.

"They're here," the red-robed girl whispered, raising her longsword and preparing to strike.