Chapter 363: One for One

Days bled into one another beneath the sweltering subterranean ceiling.

Inside the carved-out basalt cavern, Shen Yu remained locked in relentless cultivation, twisting his body into the grotesque, agonizing postures of the Asura Blood-Forging Sutra.

Every contortion strained his sinews to the absolute limit, forcing his boiling blood essence to crash through unrefined blood pathways like molten iron.

By the fourteenth day, his skin was caked in a thick layer of foul, black grime, impurities forcibly squeezed out from the deepest layers of his marrow.

Suddenly, a faint spatial ripple brushed against his spirit sense.

Someone was entering the volcanic caldera.

Shen Yu smoothly transitioned out of the final stance.

Circulating a burst of pure Qi beneath his skin, he vaporized the crusted impurities from his body in an instant, leaving his skin pristine, fair, and radiating a subtle, metallic luster.

He rolled his shoulders and flexed his frame, the dense, coiled power beneath his flesh felt noticeably heavier, more unyielding.

Even so, Shen Yu couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

The Asura Blood-Forging Sutra was absurdly difficult.

Even with the aid of the Blood-Sun Sunflower Seeds and his supreme past-life comprehension, two weeks of non-stop, bone-grinding training had only yielded a meager 5% progress into the First Layer.

Mastering the entire technique was going to be a long, grueling journey.

Donning a fresh set of pitch-black robes, he enveloped himself in the suffocating, malevolent aura of Shen Yu and stepped out of the secluded cavern.

Approaching the central clearing, he saw the first of the four hounds returning.

It was one of the burly brute’s companions.

The demonic cultivator looked ragged, his robes shredded and his face haggard with terror, but slung over his broad shoulder was a heavily bound figure.

The captive, a rogue demonic cultivator, was bruised and unconscious, his dantian sealed, but his shallow, steady breathing proved he was still very much alive.

“S-Senior!” the cultivator gasped, collapsing to one knee as he dumped his captive onto the scorched basalt.

“I have brought my share! The antidote… please, the poison is already gnawing at my heart!”

“Wait,” Shen Yu said indifferently, not sparing the man a glance.

Moments later, the second follower stumbled through the sulfur mist, dragging another unconscious demonic captive by a spirit-iron chain.

Shortly behind him came the scarred brute himself, carrying a third living captive and violently tossing him onto the growing pile.

Both men dropped to the floor, panting frantically, black veins pulsing visibly across their necks as the fourteen-day poison pushed their vitality to the brink of collapse.

Three captives. Three hounds.

Shen Yu’s crimson eyes swept over the crater entrance, but the air remained dead and still.

The lanky, sickly thin leader, the one ordered to bring two sacrifices, was nowhere to be seen.

The silence within the volcanic caldera stretched, broken only by the rhythmic, agonizing gasps of the three kneeling cultivators.

Black, parasite-infested veins bulged grotesquely across their temples and throats, throbbing with toxic corruption as the fourteen-day deadline approached its final breaths.

“Senior… please! Brother Liu must be on his way!” the burly brute choked out, coughing specks of black, congealed blood onto the basalt.

“We fulfilled our end! Give us the antidote!”

Shen Yu’s crimson eyes remained utterly devoid of warmth. With a casual flick of his wrist, three jade-colored medicinal pellets clattered onto the scorched stone before them.

“These will only suppress the parasitic worm for two days,” Shen Yu said coldly.

“Swallow them. I will wait until midnight for your leader to arrive. Until then, stay where you are, recover your spent Qi, and do not test my patience by attempting to crawl away.”

The three men snatched the suppression pills like starving dogs, shoving them down their throats without hesitation.

A cool medicinal aura spread through their chests, temporarily stalling the agonizing rot in their veins.

Not daring to utter another word, they immediately sat cross-legged around the caldera basin, desperately circulating their cultivation methods to replenish their drained energy.

Hours trickled by under the suffocating heat of the volcanic crater.

Midnight arrived.

The sulfurous smog hung thick and dead in the air, but the lanky cultivator never appeared.

Shen Yu’s brows knitted into a cold frown. His gaze slowly shifted over to the three meditating demonic cultivators.

Fwip—!

With a subtle flick of his finger, an invisible beam of condensed spiritual force struck one of the demonic cultivators square between the brows.

The man collapsed instantly, his skull slamming against the hard basalt floor with a sickening thwack as he spiraled into a deep unconsciousness.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Shen Yu used a thin strand of Qi to snap the spatial ring nd a pouch hanging at his waist right off the fallen cultivator’s body.

He tossed the trophy into a bulging leather pouch hanging at his waist, a macabre collection filled entirely with spatial rings looted from previous victims, where it clattered against dozens of others.

The scarred brute and the remaining cultivator violently flinched at the swift, cold display of dominance.

Their eyes widened in unadulterated terror, and they scrambled backward on their knees, not daring to make eye contact as they desperately squeezed themselves against the furthest edges of the obsidian wall.

“Senior! What is the meaning of this?!” the brute stammered, his teeth chattering.

“One for one,” Shen Yu said indifferently. “Your leader failed to deliver his share. This one will take his place.”

He pointed a solitary finger toward the center of the clearing. “Drag all five onto the central node. Now.”

Terrified that any hesitation would make them the next sacrifice, the brute and his companion hurriedly grabbed the four unconscious captives alongside their fallen comrade, dragging all five bodies and arranging them atop the intricate, blood-red runes carved into the central stone platform.

“You two, take the northern and eastern cardinal corners,” Shen Yu commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority.

“The moment I give the order, channel your Qi into the formations beneath your feet. If either of you hesitates or cuts your supply, you will join them on the altar.”

“Y-Yes, Senior!” the two cultivators stammered, quickly scrambling onto the two designated nodes.

Shen Yu walked toward the edge of the perimeter.

He extended his arms, pointing his palms directly toward the western and southern cardinal corners.

Rather than relying on absent pawns, he intended to supply the remaining two formations entirely on his own.

His blood-red eyes narrowed, locking onto the ancient stone gate.

“Now.”

The moment the command dropped, the scarred brute and his companion frantically poured their demonic energy into the arrays beneath their boots, while Shen Yu unleashed two thick streams of dark, suffocating Qi from his palms straight into the remaining two nodes.