After sending the kid away, the journey was indeed much easier, the difficulty level dropped significantly.

During his travels, Chen Xuantian did not encounter any supernatural sheep or face-transforming entities causing trouble. He only came across some wolves, tigers, demons, evil spirits, skeletons, zombies, mountain bandits and rogue criminals, but they were all rubbish in the Golden Core Realm that he could easily dismiss with a flick of his hand. Not worth wasting ink writing about them.

Walking along Chidao, Chen Xuantian finally reached a populated settlement by dusk.

Once, this place was probably a large town, but most of the population had fled, leaving behind ruins and broken walls. The houses were empty, and a large pond lay outside the town. Several small rivers surrounded it, seemingly formed by breaching the riverbanks to flood the area.

In the distance, a small hill was visible within the pond. Across the hill, on a mountain, a fortress was faintly visible with some scattered lights. It seemed landlords and influential figures fled to the mountains for self-preservation, breaching dams to evade demons, ghosts, bandits, and rogue soldiers.

Refugees from outside were also lingering near the town, probably working for the wealthy in the fortress in exchange for some grains.

Such scenarios weren’t new to Chen Xuantian. In these apocalyptic times, most casualties are assetless and defenseless civilians. Those with property, influence, weapons, and armor—landowners and gentry—gather for self-defense, preserving their estates. It’s evident that kind-hearted people aren’t rewarded, while scourges linger for a thousand years.

However, that’s the way of the world. The strong can do as they please. In times of chaos, the last veil of ethics and morals is torn away, leaving no laws or rules.

Ahem, those who understand, understand—no need to reveal the Heavenly Mechanism.

Anyone like Chen Xuantian entering the city would generally scare away living souls. But coincidentally, as he entered the village, a boat sailed over from the dock, prompting refugees to gather curiously to see what the lord’s business was this time. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

So Chen Xuantian joined the crowd to watch, discovering it was a martial arts competition to marry off, not just a normal marriage but a ghost marriage.

Yes, apparently a lady in the fortress had passed away, leading to a competition for marriage—a groom was to be recruited for thirty thousand coins, only for men, as a consummation was necessary. Thus, the onlookers eagerly signed up.

Indeed, they eagerly signed up. After all, thirty thousand coins are tempting, even if money is useless nowadays. Becoming a son-in-law enjoying the comfort and opulence with the lady in a large house certainly beats living in fear of being picked as a feast by demons and monsters.

Consequently, the refugees rushed onto the boat, fighting and brawling with bloody faces for the chance at escaping despair.

Chen Xuantian sat cross-legged on a rooftop watching the spectacle, but soon noticed something was off with the performance.

Why were these refugees, despite looking sickly, acting as if they were energized, but the people from the fortress looked dead?

Indeed, the people standing on that large boat, although equipped with armor and weapons, looking like bully lackeys of landlords and powerful men, true, days should be fair with no worries, yet their complexion was paler than the refugees. In fact,

The sun and moon dimmed as though covered in dust, graves collapsed within forests, dark energy grew from positions, wrinkles spread chaotically like knife cuts. Dragon Palaces were intertwined darkly, tear troughs carved deep, iris unfocused when eyes were opened, trembling when eyes were closed; breath collapsed in the indentation above the lip, joyous faces absent at fortune, sinister presence within temple doors, erratic travel, essence drained, wind leaked from celestial granary, terrestrial depot toppled, surrounding Twelve Palaces, none remained intact.

No need for more explanation; these must have encountered evil spirits, drained of Primordial Yang and wandering souls, leaving only a stinking skin sack, merely living corpses with lost spirit and remnant vitality.

Observing Qi, counting with fingers, Chen Xuantian deduced the fortress must harbor an ancient spirit capable of draining all vitality from robust men, leaving them without Essence Qi, likely nearing Divinity Transformation. Had he not left that kid with the shopkeeper of He Ming Mountain earlier, he might have been beaten by another Divinity Transformation foe here.

Of course, Chen Xuantian didn’t want to get involved; after all, if he kept the kid, he’d be beaten, and dumping him still resulted in potential trouble—wasn’t the kid discarded for no reason?

Just as Chen Xuantian was about to sneak away, he suddenly turned and saw a Blood Man standing beside him.

Yes, Blood God’s Son, not sporting classic equipment, but purely skinned. A styling Blood Demon, covered in Divine Light, obscuring his appearance. Standing with hands behind, he exuded an ethereal demeanor, proud beyond measure, as though all heaven and earth lay beneath him.

He wore a wide robe with flowing sleeves, visibly enchanted by bloodlight, transformed by Divine Light; a crimson garment fluttered magnanimously, akin to a crimson battle flag billowing, forming vivid scarlet blended with divine light, coloring the heavens, spreading across the sky like a blazing remnant of a sunset.

Heh, Blood God’s Son is still posing too, isn’t this beyond a typical altar master’s skin...

"How do you view this, Fellow Daoist?"

Chen Xuantian, drenched in cold sweat, dared not ignore the question, reluctantly circled two fingers, summoned a Water Mirror, holding it up to reflect the pond and mountains, responding honestly,