Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1295 - Retrieving A Rune
Chapter 1295 – Retrieving A Rune
Crossing a desert that spat flame was torment. The folding entrance sealed behind Liu Wuxie; retreat wouldn’t be simple. He had only one choice but to press forward.
“I wonder how Vanya and the others are doing now,” he murmured. The entrance scattered everyone, and because Vanya and the others were elves, they returned to the elven camp after they emerged from the first event.
He quietly summoned the Sky Devouring Divine Cauldron and let it draw in the flames wreathing this world, each tongue of fire hiding a tattered rune.
Lifting his gaze, he spotted a golden rune a thousand meters away, shining like a beacon in the dimness.
“A rune.” Liu Wuxie narrowed his eyes, startled by his luck. He had barely stepped onto this scorched ground and had already found a complete rune. Golden runes were exceedingly rare. He surged forward, his movement technique unfurled as he sped toward the glow.
He crossed the distance in a blink. The rune was short, like a small golden serpent twisting and swaying. He reached for it, but just then, two arrows hissed toward his vitals. If he were to continue, they would skewer him.
His attention on the rune had masked the presence of others. Two bowmen stepped from the heat-haze, their bow strings still quivering.
“The Rakshasa Clan,” Liu Wuxie said, anger flashing. With a sweep of his hand, he slapped both arrows aside, ignored the closing archers, and reached again for the golden rune.
He needed at least ten runes to craft a complete, profound talisman. The exact number would depend on the talisman’s level; the more runes he fused, the higher his chance of winning the ancestral talisman’s recognition.
The rakshasa pair didn’t relent. Arrows poured in like the bars of a cage, a rain meant to cut him off and keep him from the prize.
“You think these arrows can hurt me?” Liu Wuxie snorted. To keep the golden rune from slipping away, he flicked his wrist and froze the surrounding space.
With his cultivation at the sixth-level Origin Conversion Realm, he could crudely execute the Great Spatial Mythical Art. Within a two-meter radius, he was untouchable; any shaft that crossed that boundary halted midflight, but the two rakshasas were nearly upon him.
Seizing the opening, he snatched the rune. His fingers traced swiftly in midair, and a profound talisman bloomed on the spot; he pressed the golden rune into its heart.
For powerful, profound talismans, the laws of heaven and earth served as the finest talisman paper. He only needed to embed the rune. The pattern knitted into an incomplete talisman, and he tucked it into his interspatial ring. He would need more runes to complete it.
As soon as he put the talisman away, the two rakshasas arrived. Their faces were vicious, and murderous intent emanated from them.
“Hand over the rune,” they demanded, drawing their bows to make the threat plain.
“Did you two find it first?” Liu Wuxie asked, voice mild.
“No,” they admitted. He had found it; they only saw it when he moved to claim it.
“Since you didn’t find it first, why ask me for it? Shouldn’t it go to the one who did?” he pressed. Both were seventh-level Primal Origin Realm—no ordinary foes.
The question stalled them for a heartbeat.
“Enough nonsense! Hand over the rune or we’ll take it by force!” one snapped. With the Rakshasa Clan’s bloodline in their veins, negotiation held no charm for them.
“So, you plan to rob me?” Liu Wuxie’s gaze went cold. Murderous intent surged and crashed over the pair.
They didn’t back down. Crimson vapor boiled from their bodies and wrapped him in a clinging haze.
“Now!” the rakshasa on the left barked. A long spear flashed into his grip and was thrust so fast that the tip stopped three inches from Liu Wuxie’s neck.
Primal Origin Realm experts were quick; while the rakshasa’s physique could not match the abyssal race’s brute force, their speed was several times greater, which meant they were more troublesome to face.
Liu Wuxie summoned the Heretic Blade and chopped down. Steel met steel with a clang. The blow batted the spear and its wielder away, and the attacker skidded dozens of steps before he steadied himself.
Both rakshasas turned ashen. They had not expected such force. They traded a look and lunged together. Thrusting two spears forward, they kicked up golden sand and sheets of flame.
The Heretic Blade shed afterimages, and Liu Wuxie didn’t bother with the Heaven-Severing Strike. He left a phantom in his place and slipped through them like a shadow.
“Retreat!” they shouted, feeling the trap close. They knew he could kill them and tried to break away.
“Don’t you think it’s too late to run?” Liu Wuxie said with a cold snort. He had no intention of letting them go; if the Grand Unity Sect learned he could kill high-level Primal Origin Realm experts, the trouble would never end. He poured power into the Heretic Blade; boundless blade intent sealed every path of escape.
Sword-light crashed down. In the next breath, Liu Wuxie carved both rakshasas to pieces. He swept up their interspatial pouches. This was more harvest than expected. Then, he moved on, certain this desert hid further runes.
He quickened, streaking across the desert like a comet. Many figures crossed his path; this pocket had drawn quite a crowd.
“It’s Liu Wuxie! If we catch him, we can trade him to the Grand Unity Sect for a fortune!” someone shouted from afar, and several figures hurried toward him.
Liu Wuxie paused, sensing the weight of their auras. His eyes cooled; murderous intent flared unrestrained.
“The Grand Unity Sect—it’s the Grand Unity Sect,” he said, each word edged with killing will.
His first place in the blacksmithing event cost the Grand Unity Sect governance over Gos Star. In response, they issued a bounty: a seventh-grade spiritual pill, five hundred thousand Pure Yang Pills, and five million astral stones for anyone who delivered him to them.
The offer would tempt even pinnacle Primal Origin Realm experts. A seventh-grade spiritual pill could give a seventy-percent chance of stepping into the Void Realm, after all.
In moments, dozens formed a ring around him—humans, beastkins, and abyssal-race cultivators. Even those who did not need the pill could trade it for other treasures.
“You all deserve to die!” Liu Wuxie roared. He did not run. Since they had chosen to hunt him down, he would start a massacre. Dragon-Grasping Hand flashed, and an abyssal devil hundreds of meters away flew into his grasp before the others could react.
Bones crunched and blood splashed. Liu Wuxie crushed the abyssal devil in an instant. He reduced the powerful third-level Primal Origin Realm expert to gore without giving it a chance to resist.
The others froze, torn between greed and fear. No one wanted to withdraw; few believed they could win.
“What did the Grand Unity Sect promise you that you’d turn your blades on your own kind?” Liu Wuxie asked the three humans among them. They were not weak, but what worth had life if they abandoned a human’s dignity?
“Liu Wuxie, enough talk. Surrender while you can,” sneered the man in the middle. He was the strongest of the three, at the eighth-level Primal Origin Realm.
With the promised pill, he could break through to the pinnacle of the Primal Origin Realm. However, this was only the beginning; more were hunting Liu Wuxie’s trail. Capture him alive, and rewards would pile up like mountains.
“Since that’s the case, come,” Liu Wuxie said. He had no more words for them.
Their companion’s death didn’t cow the abyssal devils. The blood only whipped their frenzy higher.
“Let’s attack together—capture him first and split the rewards later,” the same human barked, a cold sneer twisting his lips.
Three humans, several abyssal devils, and a knot of beastkins unleashed their strongest blows at once. Had Liu Wuxie remained at the fifth-level Origin Conversion Realm, the crushing attacks would have overwhelmed him. After his breakthrough to the sixth, however, he actually needed a full-on battle to consolidate his cultivation base.
“Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms!” he roared. His body rose as a golden divine dragon, coils filling the air; a titanic claw fell, and the three humans blanched.
They realized it just then. Liu Wuxie had used only thirty percent of his strength before. Now that he had decided to go all-out, his might could certainly sweep the battlefield clean.
The dragon claw crashed down. A fourth-level Primal Origin Realm cultivator burst apart, dying in a single stroke; the remaining two humans went pale with dread.
The abyssal devils hit weaker than the humans, and he barely spared them a thought.
“Great Five Elemental Mythical Art!” A five-element millstone churned into being overhead and plunged, crushing six abyssal devils and two beastkins before they could cry out.
In a blink, one exchange, and most of the ring lay dead. Only two human cultivators remained.
“Your turn.” Liu Wuxie dropped to the ground and advanced. Each step he took drove them back one; the oppression rolling off him crushed down on them.
“Liu Wuxie, how can you be this powerful?” they gasped. His name had long spread, but hearing was one thing. To see a sixth-level Origin Conversion Realm cultivator wield combat strength comparable to the pinnacle of the Primal Origin Realm shattered their understanding of the world. None of it made sense at all.
