A group of red figures surged through the forest like a raging flood, their thick scent of blood so potent that even lower-tier beasts out foraging dared not draw near, merely watching them with wary eyes from a distance. Not long after this red wave had passed, a black silhouette leapt forth from among the trees, landing gracefully on a tree trunk. He raised his head, gazing at the red figures now rushing ahead, and furrowed his brow, murmuring, "If we keep delaying like this, Fan Lao will surely catch up." After a brief pause, Xiao Yan clenched his teeth, thinking internally, "If we don't get another chance, we'll have to act strong and decisive." With that, he lightly touched the branch with his foot, drifting down smoothly, and then continued to follow the lead of the advancing group. Two teams of vastly different sizes surged forward and backward through the forest, maintaining a gap of no more than a hundred meters between them.紧 pressed behind the leading group, Xiao Yan silently counted the minutes. After a few minutes passed, he finally could no longer endure, and with a sudden thrust of his foot against a tree trunk, he accelerated—only to abruptly notice that the team ahead, led by Fan Ling, had come to a sudden halt. His heart leapt, and he slowed his pace, carefully climbing onto a branch and approaching the group with cautious steps. "How did they find out about our movements?" "Master, looking at their appearance, they don't seem to be setting up an ambush. Rather, they appear to be searching for a remote mountain trail, making their way back to the Skull City..." The experienced Blood Guard paused slightly. "Oh? Hey, that makes sense—securing a Ground-Rank Combat Technique, quietly retracing their steps through winding mountain paths to return to the Skull City. That truly fits the nature of those people..." With a slight furrow in his brow, recalling the coveted "Three Thousand Thunder Strikes" combat technique he had been eager to secure, Fan Ling felt a surge of warmth spread through him. His gaze swept across the surroundings, and he suddenly asked, "How many people are there?" "Exactly ten." "Is the gray-skinned one among them?" Fan Ling followed up, referring to the gray-robed middle-aged man who had competed with him for the "Three Thousand Thunder Strikes" at yesterday's auction. "Yes. According to my assessment, the other side has two Combat Elites and one Grand Combatant, with the rest at the Combatant level." "The Blood Guardian spoke solemnly. 'Two Douling, two Great Douling...?' He murmured to himself, pondering for a long time. Finally, the glint in Fan Ling's eyes turned greedy and sharp, and with a wave of his hand, he said coldly, 'Hurry up and catch up with the Black Skeleton Tomb's party. We never intended to engage them—yet they insist on taking this winding mountain path. That, then, is quite understandable for my rather unkind intentions.' 'Master Younger Brother, Master has emphasized that our foremost priority right now is to safely escort the Yin-Yang Xuanlong Pill back to Mucity. Should any unforeseen complications arise, it might prove detrimental to us,' the elder who had been accompanying Fan Ling urged, growing concerned at his sudden intention to intercept the Black Skeleton Tomb's party. 'Ro Elder, don't worry. Regardless of their numbers or overall strength, they are far inferior to ours. For the sake of a Scroll of Earth-Rank Combat Technique, we are well within our rights to take this risk,' Fan Ling replied calmly, waving a hand. "This...," the Luo elder hesitated, glanced at the other elder standing beside him, and then, upon seeing the determined resolve of Fan Ling, finally nodded with a sigh. "When the time comes, I'll ask both of you to hold off the other's Dao Ling strongholds. I'll lead the Blood Guards to eliminate the rest of the Black Skeleton Tomb's forces. This time, just as we did when we surrounded the Sky Serpent Manor, absolutely no one must escape!" Fan Ling spoke coldly and decisively, showing clear command—though he was perhaps a bit too greedy. As soon as Fan Ling finished speaking, the Blood Guards nodded silently, without a single word of hesitation. Satisfied, Fan Ling raised his hand and stepped forward, leading the way into the forest. Not long after Fan Ling and the others vanished, Xiao Yan appeared on the trunk of a large tree, gazing at the spot where they had disappeared, a strange smile playing on his face. He murmured, "Those greedy ones—whenever they see something valuable, they immediately want to seize it. But this time, you're destined to be the one taken." With a light smile, Xiao Yan drifted down from the tree and transformed into a shadow, vanishing into the forest. Not far from this battlefield, two additional smaller skirmishes were unfolding, with four figures weaving past one another, their sharp weapons channeling fierce energy, crashing into each other with powerful strikes. Occasionally, when blade or sword missed, the towering stones or massive trees beside them were severed right through the middle—clearly indicating that the combatants were engaged in genuine life-or-death duels, not merely practicing or exchanging techniques. "Whoosh!" A dark, icy arrow suddenly shot forth from the side, carrying a rich flow of blood energy and piercing with lightning speed into the throat of a Grand Combatant. The immense force carried by the arrow pushed it completely through the victim's throat, embedding it firmly into a tree trunk, where the arrow's tail rapidly swayed. Xiao Yan's gaze followed the path of the arrow, and there he saw—it was Fan Ling, the one holding the longbow, who had just slain a Grand Combatant. Now, with his bow raised once more, he pointed it toward another Grand Combatant. Seeing Fan Ling's arrow aimed at him, the targeted Grand Combatant grew pale, his inner combat energy surging violently and forming a somewhat rough combat armor on his body. From the quality of this armor, it appeared that his combat strength was likely at the two- or three-star level. "Hmph," Xiao Yan remarked, "Can this flimsy combat armor really withstand my Blood-Eroding Arrow?" Watching the Great Combatant's movements, Fan Ling couldn't help but chuckle, drawing his bow taut and releasing his fingers. The long arrow, enveloped in blood-colored energy, shot forth with a surge of crimson light, like a lightning bolt, striking hard against the combat armor. Instantly, a sharp, grating crunch sound resonated. The creaking sound did not last long—it abruptly ceased, as the crimson arrow had directly corroded a small hole in the combat aura armor, the arrow then piercing the throat of the senior combatant through that opening. Gazing calmly at the fallen senior combatant, Fan Ling turned to the blood guards who had been nearly killed by the last-ditch counterattacks of the two senior combatants, and felt a pang of sympathy—these guards had taken years to train and cultivate. "Good thing we have the Three Thousand Thunder Waves as compensation," he murmured to himself, feeling a little more at ease. He then turned his cold gaze toward the two black skeleton guards, now helpless, being dragged by the two elders, and said softly, "Molhan, hand over your 'Three Thousand Thunder Waves' now. I'll leave you with a full body." Shifting aside the attacks from his opponent with a沉沉 expression, the middle-aged man known as Molhan, his voice hoarse, replied, "Fan Ling, you will regret this." "With a calm smile, Fan Ling slightly adjusted his bow, pointing it at another Dou Ling cultivator. The tip of the arrow glowed with subtle blood energy, and at that moment, his pupils narrowed as he finally identified the vulnerability in the Dou Ling's defense—exposed by the pressure from his own forces. With a gentle release, a jet of blood arrows shot forth, piercing the Dou Ling's chest instantly. "Die with me!" The Black Skeleton Mound Dou Ling, though fierce, was severely wounded by Fan Ling's cold arrow, spitting out streams of blood. Yet, he abandoned his weapon, desperately bracing against the agony of having his arm severed by a single slash, and with his other arm tightly gripping the opponent, his face contorted as he roared, "Bone Explosion!" "Frangold Elder, retreat quickly!" Seeing the Black Skeleton Mound cultivator's face suddenly turn an eerie purple, Fan Ling's expression tightened and he urgently shouted. "Boom!" "As soon as Fan Ling finished his shout, the Douling master exploded violently. The powerful surge of energy lifted nearly half a foot of soil from the ground around him. The blood sect's Douling master, though spared, was left battered—his clothes torn, flesh split, and pale as if he would faint from the shock. "Damn it!" Fan Ling exclaimed, glaring at Han, the elder who had survived but now temporarily lost his combat ability. With a cold gesture, he commanded, "Blood guards, take position—surround and eliminate Mo'lhahn!" "Yes!" At Fan Ling's command, the remaining twenty-some blood guards, their swords still streaked with blood, raised their blades once more, and surged forward with a thick scent of blood, surrounding Mo'lhahn. The fierce battle of encirclement and counter-encirclement unfolded relentlessly upon this open ground! With a Dao Ling cultivator firmly holding him off on the front, dozens of powerful Blood Guards launching surprise attacks around him, and having to remain vigilant against the cold arrows from Fan Ling outside, under such extreme distractions, Mo Luhan was able to hold on only for a few minutes before being forced by Luo Elder to reveal his vulnerability. Though he fought fiercely and managed to wound Luo Elder significantly, he was ultimately knocked senseless by the latter's powerful palm strike. "Phew…" Hiding his chest, the Luo elder drew a deep breath, expelling a stream of blood. He glanced at the mere dozen blood guards remaining and the severely wounded Han elder, shaking his head with a wry smile. He hadn't expected the black skeleton tomb guards to be this resolute, this fearless—what a hard-fought battle indeed. When Mo'lhahn finally lost consciousness, the one who had been drawing his bow steadily from the outer edge of the battlefield finally exhaled in relief. He casually set down his bow and arrow, then hurried forward, snatching a long sword from one of the blood guards. With a fierce expression, he swiftly slashed it across Mo'lhahn's neck, ending his life. "Haha!" Grasping the scroll tightly, Fan Ling couldn't help but burst out laughing. As Fan Ling laughed wildly, a sudden suction appeared out of nowhere, and the silver scroll instantly shot through the air, finally being caught casually by a long, elegant hand. "Heh, thank you, Master Fan Ling, for your diligent efforts. However, this item might be better kept by me." On a nearby tree trunk, a figure in black robes materialized. Under the glow of the sunlight, the scroll of silver, a ground-level combat technique, gently shimmered on his palm.