The leader of this scouting squad could already sense that the hand grasping the hilt of the sword was actually inside A Ming.

Not warm, very cold, icy!

"Buzz!"

A glow was released from the leader's body, clearly indicating that he was a warrior.

A Ming wasn't sure how high his rank was, nor did he need to know.

Because in a real fight, besides absolute strength, there were simply too many external factors that could influence the true outcome of a duel.

For instance, just as the glow appeared on the leader,

A Ming's ten fingernails,

had already pierced this brother's chest.

"Crack!"

With a twist,

the opponent's body convulsed, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and his life was instantly extinguished.

The sole surviving straggler lacked the courage of the leader; this was the same wild brother who had shown commendable finishing skills earlier.

It was because he personally "finished off" that he believed A Ming truly dead, yet the deceased had resurrected, killing his superior and other companions, shattering his mind.

Run, flee, escape!

This is the devil, the devil!

A Ming did not give chase,

Instead, he silently drew the bow and arrows hanging on the leader's saddle,

Pulled the bowstring, notched an arrow,

Aimed,

The entire sequence was completed in one fluid motion.

Because he was often used by my lord as an archery target,

A Ming had long since become adept at and accustomed to the skill of archery.

The Blood Race's acute perception funneled into the arrow,

Even the speed of the wind had been taken into account.

"Buzz!"

The arrow shot out,

Penetrating right through the neck of the last survivor, who fell directly from his horse.

A Ming reached out, wiped the bloodstain from the corner of his mouth, and then pulled out the knife still lodged in his belly, casually tossing it to the ground.

The wounds on his body were healing at a visibly rapid pace.

If you could stand close by A Ming,

You could even hear the subtle popping and squirming as his flesh healed, like a damaged sweater, with the loose threads being re-knit.

A Ming took out a small bottle from his pocket, uncorked it, and inside was black blood.

Indeed,

Playing with blood experiments was not unique to Xue Three.

When the Blood Race has free time, they ask each other for fresh blood to conduct their research.

In the past, obtaining such novel fresh blood was indeed difficult, but my lord's resources were plentiful and convenient to borrow from. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Today, I borrow a few hundred milliliters from you, tomorrow I return a few hundred milliliters, good borrowing and returning makes borrowing easy.

This bottle,

Contained the blood of a Pixiu.

Yes, that's right, from the Pixiu under Lord Zheng's saddle.

When A Ming bared his fangs and approached it, it could only helplessly remain there, quietly letting A Ming take some of its blood.

In order to prevent my lord from finding out that his beloved mount had been siphoned,

A Ming specifically chose the Pixiu's abdomen to take the blood,

And when the Pixiu obediently rolled over to allow the extraction,

A Ming discovered several cuts already made on its belly, proving a group had beaten him to it!

At this moment,

While his wounds were self-healing,

A Ming poured the Pixiu's blood into his mouth.

The power of the Blood Race comes from fresh blood, their hierarchy and strength levels, in essence, is the potency contained in the blood.

A truly formidable Blood Race member, even with just a single drop of blood, could regenerate their body from the power contained within it.

So what A Ming was trying to do was see if, should his own rank not rise, he could instead laterally enhance his strength.

Then,

Hiss......

The wound on his abdomen that was healing suddenly went into turmoil, the yarn keeping it together suddenly unraveled, and knots started to form.

This pain was beyond description by any torture.

A Ming clung tightly to his warhorse, which, influenced by A Ming's aura, became utterly docile, not daring to act up.

After a long while,

A Ming, pale-faced, raised his head,

He felt his abdomen,

The wound hadn't fully healed and his earlier actions had left his insides feeling extremely empty.

"Is this what the blind man often called a bond, the bond between us and my lord?"

Neither vertically nor horizontally,

It was impossible to augment one's power via channels outside of my lord.

A Ming opened his mouth,

Letting out a few self-mocking laughs,

"Haha......

In the end,

I'm still bound to go back and lick my lord's boots."

"What's it, you thinking of upending the sky?"

Xue Three's voice came from A Ming's side, as he emerged from the shadows, looking disdainful:

"I say, is it so typical for you vampires to show off? Does it not count unless you get a few scars in a fight to flaunt your self-healing ability?"

Then,

Xue Three sniffed the air,

He caught a familiar scent,

Immediately shouted:

"Damn, that's Pixiu blood, you dare to secretly bleed my lord's beloved mount!"

"Heh." A Ming couldn't be bothered to respond to him.

Because he didn't believe Xue Three hadn't done it.

"Well, let's say if you're doing experiments, I could set up a small lab and we could do it together, what do you say? If you do it on your own, you might cripple yourself, it's too unsafe."

"If you do it, I might end up done for."

"Look at that, those words aren't very kind, alas."

Xue Three didn't bother bickering further, instead turning his gaze elsewhere, where hundreds of shadowy figures began infiltrating the encampment of the wild people, using the path he and A Ming had cleared. The reaper's scythe, obscured by the night, was already raised high.

"Actually, the simplest, most practical method is two words."

Xue Three said as he jumped, patted A Ming on the shoulder, and continued:

"Do you know which two words?"

Xue Three smacked his lips,

Spat on the ground,

And answered his own question:

"Submit to fate."

————

Goodnight, everyone.