Qian Wushuang was renowned as a prodigy among those who awakened the bloodline of the Elven King. With the backing of the powerful resources of the Qian Family, to what level had he truly cultivated himself?

“Qian Wuer…” Qian Cheng rubbed his hands together lightly. “He is going to the Hai family to propose marriage.”

Qian Jin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What will be the outcome of Qian Wushuang’s proposal? There’s no need to witness it firsthand to know that the Hai family will undoubtedly accept his proposal with immense pleasure.”

For a minor family in Qian Prefecture, gaining the patronage of a great tree like the Qian Family, especially through their most outstanding young talent, was an advantage whose value was almost impossible to quantify for the Hai family.

“The Hai family agreed to the marriage for Qing’er…” Qian Cheng looked at Qian Jin. “The result? Qing’er vanished that very night. Rumor has it that someone sighted a frail girl resembling Hai Qing’er near the edge of the Ancient Barren Sand Sea. She walked into the Ancient Barren Sand Sea and never emerged.”

The Ancient Barren Sand Sea? Qian Jin’s eye twitched violently. His arms instinctively tensed, sending a wave of pain through his body, yet he could not stop the scenes flooding his mind.

Under a desolate moonlit night, three moons hung high in the sky, myriad stars blossoming with pinpricks of light. A slender figure, head held high in defiance, walked toward the Ancient Barren Sand Sea—a place even powerful warriors dared not enter lightly.

A gigantic Thunder Vulture, raven-black hair, eyes devoid of emotion! She wasn't the prettiest girl, but she was the most beautiful woman!

It couldn't be wrong! The girl seen in the Ancient Barren Sand Sea could only be one person! Hai Qing’er! It had to be Hai Qing’er, the girl bearing the crest of the Queen of the Undead!

“Also…” Pan Hongji’s rigidly held back paused, his expression shifting to faint confusion. “Qian Jin, are you alright?”

“What?” Qian Jin stared back at Pan Hongji in bewilderment. Given his current severe injuries, how could he possibly be fine? Well, it wasn't exactly an insurmountable problem. All he needed was a quiet moment that evening to enter the Endless World, find Uncle Adams, and take a few vials of incredibly potent healing potions for the most miraculous recovery.

No scars, no lingering internal damage! A few vials would fix it! Qian Jin felt incredibly fortunate. If anyone else sustained injuries like these, they would be bedridden for two to three months, or even longer.

As for Qian Wushuang… “It’s a given…”

Pan Hongji hesitated, unable to finish his thought, while Qian Cheng’s expression abruptly changed. Even Fen Tu Kuangge looked surprised and grave.

In the span of a few short moments, Qian Jin’s ashen, paper-white complexion suddenly flushed a vibrant crimson! It wasn't blood coating his face, but blood swirling beneath his skin, as if desperate to burst through the surface!

This intense redness rapidly spread from his face to his entire body. Veins and tendons swelled uncontrollably, appearing ready to leap free from his skin.

Inside the carriage, the only sounds were the rhythmic clang of the horses’ hooves striking the ground and the grinding friction of the wooden wheels against the earth.

Pain! In an instant, Qian Jin was overwhelmed by agonizing pain. Every corner of his body felt like a volcanic eruption. An unknown, powerful Dou Qi, seemingly dormant for ages within him, burst forth completely at this moment, assaulting his already wounded and fragile Dou Veins and Acupoints.

The world, at this instant, turned blood red. Qian Jin felt as if his very eyes might explode, an unstoppable surge of power threatening to erupt violently from deep within him.

Volcano Potion! No! This was far more potent than Oulala’s Volcano Potion!… Qian Chenyu’s Dou Qi! Hidden so deeply? Only erupting at this precise moment! Truly worthy of an experienced warrior!

Just as victory was secured, his spirit and stamina were still caught in a strange fervor. He retained powerful strength, but once the tension eased, his physical state deteriorated far worse than the expected injuries warranted. Under such conditions, his body was completely incapable of mounting any effective defense or counterattack.

Boom! Qian Jin’s vision swam, his body convulsed violently, and he fell unconscious. Yet, it wasn't a complete blackout; his mind continued to function, and he could still hear the voices conversing outside, but he could not speak or utter a sound—like a puppet trapped with thought but no mobility.

Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft…

The clean wooden boards of the carriage were suddenly spattered crimson by sprays of blood. Fibrils on Qian Jin’s body convulsed again, uncontrollably ejecting plumes of bloody mist. The entire carriage compartment filled with a thick, metallic scent of blood.

“How could this be?”

“What is happening?”

“Qian Jin…”

The others in the carriage scrambled forward amidst a flurry of worried exclamations. Half their attention was focused on Qian Jin, and the other half on Pan Hongji. No one present had ever witnessed a situation like this, perhaps only the Serpent Emperor, Pan Hongji, who had seen more of the world, could explain what was transpiring.

“Could this be…” Pan Hongji’s face registered a gravity never before seen. “The legendary, lost Saint-Grade Dou Technique: Cold Submerged Thunder!”

Saint-Grade Dou Technique! Submerged Thunder!

Silence descended inside the carriage, broken only by breathing and the sounds from outside. The young onlookers exchanged stunned glances. A Saint-Grade Dou Technique! This was an incredibly precious skill in any lineage or family.

Submerged Thunder! Legend claimed it was an exceedingly rare Saint-Grade technique that not all bloodline warriors could practice. For some unknown reason, the warrior who created Submerged Thunder vanished thousands of years ago, and even his direct successor failed to learn it, causing the technique to be completely lost, surviving only in whispers and folklore.

Once, a warrior—an ordinary fighter who possessed a Dou Soul but had not reached Sainthood—used a technique called Cold Submerged Thunder to slay a Demon Race warrior who had entered Sainthood! Though the warrior himself was gravely injured, the fact that a non-Saint killed a Saint-level Demon Race member drew immense attention.

Though Cold Submerged Thunder was lost, rumors about it never ceased over the years. Countless warriors sought its whereabouts, hoping to master this fabled Saint-Grade Dou Technique.

“Now, what do we do?” Lucifer Liushui stared at the Serpent Emperor, Pan Hongji. “If this truly is the Saint-Grade technique Submerged Thunder, then Qian Chenyu likely unleashed it during the battle against the Nine Fiends. Only the Serpent Emperor here has the power to suppress the strength of the Nine Fiends Battle.”

Pan Hongji gazed with deep solemnity at Qian Jin, whose body was bleeding and breathing labored and ragged. What could be done in this situation? Suppression? How could he suppress it? This was the Saint-Grade technique Submerged Thunder! If it were an ordinary technique, suppression might be manageable. But a Saint-Grade technique! If one did not know the precise sequence for ordering its Dou Qi, rashly attempting to suppress it…

It risked causing the Dou Qi to surge chaotically, speeding up Qian Jin’s death! Legend stated that the Saint-level Demon Warrior who fought back in the day perished precisely because he didn't know the Dou Qi sequence for Submerged Thunder and forcibly tried to break it himself while already heavily wounded.

“The Ancient Barren Sand Sea!” Duan Fengbuer thrust his head into the carriage. “The Ancient Barren Sand Sea! Bury Qian Jin there!”

Fen Tu Kuangge and Check Foorlet’s eyes lit up. Yes, if the Serpent Emperor seemed helpless, then perhaps the Ancient Barren Sand Sea was the only recourse. Last time, Qian Jin buried himself in the sand, and even when severely wounded, his body seemed impervious to high temperatures.

“Perhaps we should go to my…” Pan Hongji showed a rare expression of uncertainty. “The Pan Family has high-level Apothecaries and Mysterious Apothecaries…”

“Uncle, wait…” Duan Fengbuer drove the carriage, leaning his head into the compartment. “If the Apothecaries and Mysterious Apothecaries had a solution, Qian Jin would have discovered his problem long ago and started treating it. If he can’t fix it, are we supposed to rely on those useless bums at your place?”

Useless bums? Pan Hongji paused, then offered a bitter smile. Who else in the world dared call high-level Apothecaries and Mysterious Apothecaries useless? Perhaps only Qian Jin’s small circle, and the highest echelons of the Apothecary and Mysterious Apothecary Guilds.

If Qian Jin himself couldn’t handle it, what chance did those few in the Pan Family have? Pan Hongji gently shook his head. Frankly, even if they had the time, those few individuals likely couldn't succeed.

It was rumored that when the Demon Race Saint Warrior was mortally wounded back then, the Great Demon King immediately took notice, dispatching high-level Apothecaries and Mysterious Apothecaries from the Lucifer Royal Family, even Inscriptionists were mobilized, yet they achieved nothing.

The Pan Family held considerable influence, but compared to the strongest Lucifer Royal Family, they truly couldn't compare, especially concerning Apothecaries and Mysterious Apothecaries.

Hoo! For the first time, Pan Hongji felt a sense of powerlessness. He, a Ninth-Headed Serpent bloodline expert who had reached Heaven-Tier Awakening, even having unlocked one clasp of the Ultimate Awakening, was utterly helpless against this unknown Saint-Grade Dou Qi.

“To the Ancient Barren Sand Sea! If Qian Jin dies…” The usually amiable pupils of Pan Hongji flashed with serpentine coldness and ruthlessness for the first time. “Even if the Qian Family resurrects Qian Chenyu! I will personally kill him! I hope it’s not Submerged Thunder, I hope I’m wrong, that this isn't Submerged Thunder…”

“It is Submerged Thunder!” Qian Chenyu lay weakly on his bed, gazing at the icy, disdainful Qian Wuqing. “Son, do you still hate me?”

“Yes! I still hate you! I don’t care about Submerged Thunder nonsense… Your actions today have brought me shame!” Qian Wuqing stood before the bed, staring coldly at Qian Chenyu, this useless father! Because of him, I have endured more humiliation; how can I ever hold my head up in the Qian Family again?

“Shame?” Qian Chenyu wore a dismissive smile on his lips. “Son, you haven't fought Qian Jin. You don't know his strength. I have a premonition—his power isn't something Pan Hongji manufactured; it is his inherent strength. Do you think you can defeat him?”

Qian Wuqing stared blankly at Qian Chenyu. Could he win? Qian Jin had confronted the Nine Fiends Battle head-on during the fight and fiercely claimed the final victory.

“Qian Wutian will very likely be at least a Heaven-Tier Awakened expert in the future,” Qian Chenyu stated flatly. “No one will dwell on the fact that he once lost to Qian Jin. Even if he doesn’t defeat Qian Jin with his own hands, his glory will remain untarnished.”