The vessel was none other than the Vitalboon Dish, the same one he had seen sitting on the manor lord's desk. What these cultists were doing was simple. With the Crimsonguard closing in, they had to salvage the blood brew pills as fast as possible, whether they were ready or not.

Calm down.

An Jing circulated Sword of Tranquility, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Guns were out of the question as the noise would be too loud. If he didn't end this fast, it would draw the rest of the cultists, making it impossible to rescue the children in the dungeon.

An Jing recognized only one of the three cultists, Instructor Han, the most formidable martialist after Instructor Li. The other two were total strangers who had never crossed paths with the children.

He frowned. Instructor Han was no slouch. Being a peak River-Aura martialist, he held a clear advantage over An Jing. He trained in external techniques that gave him a powerful physique and impenetrable skin with a bronze luster. Though the other two were weaker, they were still Aura Realm martialists. Between them, one was a River-Aura martialist, while the other was at the Silk Aura Stage.

An Jing could ambush and kill one man easily enough. Against two, they might still manage to sound the alarm. But going against all three was impossible.

The survivors are more important. I came for the children. As for the instructors... Let them be.

He composed himself. His feelings toward the demonic cult were complex, and his feelings toward the instructors with whom he had spent so much time were even more so. If the instructor took the blood-brew pills and left, he would take the children and go their separate ways, with the hope of never crossing paths again.

However, if...

An Jing was solemn, as were the cultists.

"Damn it, why is it taking so long?!" Instructor Han frowned, muttering a string of profanity, his face still smeared with blood. "These are life-saving pills! Every second we waste, another brother dies! This thing is usually really fast. Why is it taking its fucking sweet time now?!"

"Sir, the lifevessel requires the correct lifearc to function at its normal capacity." The younger-sounding voice explained. "The only one with the Qi Soul Lending lifearc is the old manor lord himself. We'll just have to take our time."

"Fuck!" Instructor Han spat on the ground, staring toward the west as he shouted, "Screw the Crimsonguard and screw those fucking traitors! Even the Lord Inspector of the North is held up and can't help us. We can't keep this going. We'll collect the pills, patch up our brothers, and split!"

An Jing watched intently, taking it all in.

The Lord Inspector of the North, a top figure in the cult, was one of the two Void Divine Treasure Realm sages who fought earlier. Only the ritual could have drawn such a formidable figure to Direlife Manor. If it weren't for An Jing's betrayal and the Crimsonguard's surprise attack, the Lord Inspector of the North would have personally escorted him, Bai Qinghan and the other children who had awakened their lifearcs to the headquarters.

While the three were busy extracting vigor to form blood-brew pills, the youngest and weakest of them couldn't help but sigh. "It's a blessing in disguise for our injured brothers. I only got a single pill when I first joined. They're going to be much stronger once they're back on their feet. I wonder when I'll finally rack up enough merit to be rewarded."

"We should've been rewarded." Looking toward Direlife Canyon, Instructor Han said dejectedly, "I saw those two streaks of starlight blast into the sky. That means two miracle arcs have emerged. Any other time, every martialist here would've been given a blood-brew pill.

"Should the Constellar Official, Divine General Carnage, Profound Yin Goddess, or even the Divine Son of Seven Ruins emerge, we would receive far more than pills. Our entire northwest region will rise into prominence!"

Instructor Han drifted for a second, but the daydream vanished as quickly as it came. He lowered his head and impatiently waved his hand. "Get moving! These bones have yet to break down. The process is far too slow.

"Oh right! Those little ones are still in the cells." Instructor Han glanced toward the cells, a dark, dangerous spark igniting in his eyes.

"We have no use for this trash, but I'll be damned if I leave them for that dog of an emperor. You, keep collecting the blood brew pills. And you, get to the vault. Clear out the top-tier lifevessels, then level the place! That dog of an emperor isn't getting his hands on anything!"

"Yes, Sir!"

With that, he set his hand on the hilt of his blade and strode off to the cells. His boots struck the floor with a heavy, metallic ring. Instructor Han had clearly pushed his aura to the limit against the Crimsonguard troops, and his body, still locked in that state, was as hard as tempered steel.

As Instructor Han approached the cells, the mere brush of his elbow against the stone railing caused a chunk of solid bluestone to crumble like tofu, yet he didn't even notice it.

An Jing's fists tightened, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Instructor Han's mastery of external techniques was almost certainly the result of his lifearc, pushing his physical toughness far beyond that of the Aura Realm. In terms of pure defensive power, not even the manor lord was a match for him.

Could An Jing's lethal-qi sword even pierce that bronze-like skin? And if it did, at what cost to his aura? Taking him down was one thing, but could he handle all three of them?

Based on the manor lord's reaction, bullets wouldn't touch a martialist who was prepared. And even if he managed to kill him, the noise would immediately give him away.

But hearing Instructor Han's plans to dispose of "those little ones in the cells" stilled An Jing's heart. All distracting thoughts and tension evaporated.

Is that it, then? They aren't even going to leave their lives to chance in the fire?

An Jing wasn't angry. He just found the whole thing absurd. "Looks like I've got some 'trash' to clear out as well."

It was time to fight. Without hesitation, An Jing swallowed one of the three stimulant pills he had acquired from the manor lord. There was no point in being stingy now. He had to use them when the situation called for it.

Instructor Han chose the simplest task of disposing of the boys and girls in the cells. The two cultists accepted the arrangement without question, nodding once before attending to their own tasks. One continued to work on the Vitalboon Dish, while the other set off toward the adjacent courtyard. With the third man gone, the opening was clear. It was the perfect moment to strike.

"The jade dagger is an artifact, after all. You can use it to manifest an even deadlier sword." The sword soul instructed An Jing, "Use your blood as fuel and the blade as a medium for the blood lethal-qi sword. It's far more powerful than the lethal-qi sword alone."

"Alright."

Without a second thought, An Jing drew the jade dagger and sliced his palm, smearing his blood across the cold blade. He did as the sword soul instructed and formed blood lethal qi. Wisps of crimson aura rose from An Jing's blood, coiling around the jade dagger until they solidified into a hazy sword.

As the pill dissolved in his stomach, a blazing heat ignited within him. The searing qi essence expanded and spread throughout his body until his blood felt like it was boiling. Red veins appeared on his face, and a primal urge to roar clawed its way up from his chest.

The pill's properties merged with his vital qi, pulling aura from his meridians, flesh, and organs to refill his depleted qi capacity.

"Huh?" The burly Instructor Han was still weighing how best to slaughter the children to maximize the number of blood-brew pills they could yield when he suddenly caught the scent of blood. His eyes snapped wide. "Something's wrong!"

The instructor turned to face his opponent, but the medicinal scent caught him off guard. Even his steel-like body was no shield against the bedazzling agent drifting in the air. Although it hadn't taken hold, Instructor Han still froze in his tracks.

"The vice apothecary's medicine?!"

Right then, a figure radiating intense heat plunged from above, his blade whistling through the air as it descended. A sudden gust of wind whipped Instructor Han's hair back as a blade surged toward him, expanding until it blotted out the world. It was aimed at his only remaining vulnerability: his eyes!

Instructor Han threw up a hand to shield his face. His skin was as unyielding as steel, so ordinary weapons couldn't breach his external technique. A strike like this would only leave him dizzy.

If I take this blow, I can still...

Mid-thought, the crimson blade pierced his palm and cut through his eye, skewering his brain. With a twist of the blade, the figure ripped the sword free, spilling blood and brain matter.

"What?"

The young cultist drawing vigor from the Vitalboon Dish sensed something was amiss. He turned around and saw a figure lunging straight for him.

He instinctively crossed his arms to block the attack, only to watch in frozen terror as they were severed at the elbows. Standing before him was a young man, whose eyes burned with a blood-red, murderous glint.

There was a snap, followed by rapid spinning. As the world around him spun, he caught sight of his own neck, back, legs, the cobblestone floor and finally, darkness.

"Sir, what happened?"

Hearing the commotion, the young cultist who had been instructed to retrieve the valuable lifevessels quickly returned. He stepped into the courtyard and was hit by the stench of blood before his eyes could even register the scene. Then he heard a loud boom.

An Jing planted his foot and launched himself into the air. He descended like a falcon diving for the kill, slamming into the cultist with his sword in hand. Two bodies hit the ground with a heavy thud, but only one rose to his feet again.

The young cultist's torso had been ripped open. His internal organs spilled through his broken ribs. Blue cartilage, green organs, and red blood splattered across the ground. His dying gaze remained locked on An Jing with a look of pure, incredulous horror.

The blade whirred. Though it began as a hazy phantom, the blood lethal-qi sword in An Jing's hand had become almost tangible. Bloody flames coursed down the blade like a river.

In less than ten breaths' time, the sword had feasted on the blood of three men. It erupted in a brilliant crimson light that illuminated the entire courtyard.

An Jing watched this unfold from the shadows, letting out a long, slow breath of crimson qi.