The spiritual essence of this world was astonishingly rich!
In the outside world, spiritual essence was an intangible, formless, and ethereal thing that could only be faintly sensed by calming one's mind and focusing.
But in the Blessed Land, the spiritual essence had condensed into a faint white mist visible to the naked eye, flowing slowly along the sea's surface like a thin veil!
Shen Xiuhan took a deep breath.
A cool, rich stream of spiritual essence instantly surged into his lungs, spreading through his meridians and into his limbs and bones!
Every pore on his body opened wide, like a parched field drinking its fill of rain, bringing an indescribable sense of comfort!
“The spiritual essence here is so abundant that it probably rivals the Star-Plucking Sect's treasure land, 《Tingwu Pavilion》.”
Shen Xiuhan made a quick estimate and couldn't help but marvel inwardly:
“In terms of cultivation efficacy alone, it far surpasses ordinary spiritual springs. Even compared to a ten-year 《Star-Moon Marrow-Washing Spring》, it isn't much inferior.”
“As expected of a Blessed Land!”
Shen Xiuhan praised inwardly, but his feet did not stop as he continued to speed toward the northwest.
An hour later, the outline of a small island appeared at the edge of his vision.
The island was not large, spanning only a few hundred yards.
The vegetation on it was sparse, and it was dead silent, clearly a deserted island that no one had ever set foot on.
Shen Xiuhan only glanced at it before withdrawing his gaze, passing by without stopping.
After rushing forward for another fifteen minutes, the outline of another island emerged from the thin mist.
Unlike the deserted island from before, flocks of seabirds circled in the sky above this one, landing and taking off. Their distant cries added a touch of life to this stretch of the sea.
“There are living creatures!”
“It must be an island where people once lived.”
Shen Xiuhan's heart stirred slightly. He put more force into his steps, skimming across the sea at high speed.
As he drew closer, the scene on the island came into view.
Aside from the overgrown weeds that grew wildly without being trimmed, there were three thatched cottages located on the eastern, southern, and central parts of the island.
Though the cottages were in ruins with collapsed eaves and withered thatched roofs, one could still vaguely see traces of long-term habitation from years past.
And right in the center of the island, there was a spiritual field shrouded by a small array!
No one knew how many years the array had endured; its light barrier had dimmed to the point of being nearly transparent, yet it still struggled to function, firmly locking the spiritual essence within the field.
Within the spiritual field, precious herbs were rooted here and there. Spiritual light flickered faintly between their stems and leaves, wafting a subtle medicinal fragrance.
Even from afar, one could see the rippling fluctuations of spiritual essence!
They were all Tier Two and Tier Three Precious Herbs!
While their ranks were not considered high, they had been growing for a very long time—unharvested for at least several centuries. With their medicinal power fully settled, their value far exceeded ordinary herbs of the same rank!
Therefore, this island was far from peaceful!
Shen Xiuhan saw two figures clashing on the island. The sound of clashing weapons and angry shouts merged into one, startling the seabirds in the woods and sending them flying in all directions.
“Little girl!”
“Hand over that person's storage bag, and I'll show some mercy and spare your life!”
A young woman in her early twenties was fleeing through the woods.
Her luxurious silk dress was torn in several places, her dark hair was disheveled with a few strands sticking to her pale cheeks, and a trace of wet blood still clung to the corner of her mouth.
This woman was none other than a direct descendant of the Feng Clan from Mount Bixia's Sword Lineage... Feng Zhilan!
She held one hand tightly over her chest, as if clutching some valuable object in her robes, while her other hand tightly gripped a long sword as she fled for her life.
Behind her, dozens of yards away, a figure clad in soft armor pursued her relentlessly, clinging to her trail like a shadow.
The man was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a square face and a cold, hardened expression between his brows that spoke of long battlefield experience. His steps were steady and vigorous.
In his hand, he held a broad, heavy saber. Its blade was engraved with several deep blue patterns, indicating at a glance that it was no ordinary weapon.
Seeing that Feng Zhilan was focused only on fleeing and remained silent, the saber-wielding man snorted coldly. His voice dripped with murderous intent as he said:
“Hmph! Since you insist on doing things the hard way, don't blame me for showing no mercy to a beauty!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the square-faced man's speed suddenly surged. Force exploded beneath his feet, and he lunged forward like a pouncing leopard.
He swung his saber, the blade tracing a fierce arc in the air, bringing with it a sharp, howling wind as it cleaved downward toward her.
Whoosh!
Feng Zhilan felt a fierce gust of wind press against her back, a chilling cold piercing straight to her spine.
She gritted her teeth, pivoted sharply on her heel, and used the momentum to turn around. Her long sword thrust out rapidly to meet the heavy, powerful strike.
Clang!
Saber and sword clashed, sending sparks flying.
An overwhelming force surged down the blade of her sword!
Feng Zhilan felt her webbing go numb, and half of her arm lost all sensation.
The residual force penetrated her body. A sweet taste rose in her throat, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood, stumbling back several steps and nearly collapsing.
She was only at the stage of opening four of her nine acupoints, with a cultivation of the mid-stage Anjin Rank. How could she possibly be a match for this man at the Great Perfection of the Anjin Rank?
“Cough...”
Feng Zhilan forced herself to stand firm. Clutching her chest with one hand, she pointed her sword at the man, her voice hoarse yet filled with resentment:
“Zhao Zhiqian!”
“My Feng Clan has never had any enmity with your Longxiang Army. We have always minded our own business. Why must you push me to the brink and try to kill me?!”
“How naive and ridiculous!”
Zhao Zhiqian sneered. Without stopping, he accelerated once more and slashed his saber directly at the space between Feng Zhilan's brows!
“Upon entering the Blessed Land, treasures naturally belong to the capable. You took the storage bag from the skeleton in that thatched cottage, so I'm going to rob you. What can you do about it?”
This strike was steady, heavy, and extremely upright, carrying the faint majesty of a mountain. Wielding the saber was like pushing mountains and filling seas, an incredibly heavy blow. It was none other than the ultimate technique of the Zhenyue Camp, 《Zhenyue Guard Saber》!
Feng Zhilan's pupils contracted sharply. She hurriedly drew a semi-circle with her sword, desperately trying to block with a move from Flowing Cloud Swordplay, 《Cloud and Mist Pushing the Mountain》!
Clang!
Saber and sword clashed once more!
Pfft!
Feng Zhilan felt as if she had been struck by a heavy hammer. She was sent flying backward, a mist of blood spraying from her mouth.
Yet, since she dared to enter this Diaohai Blessed Land alone, she was by no means a fragile or squeamish person.
Using the force of the rebound, she tapped her toes and forced her body to pivot, fleeing toward the south of the island without looking back.
The commotion here had already alerted the various groups of people scattered across the island.
Several figures leaped over, landing on treetops and reefs, watching the scene unfold with cold eyes.
“They're from Nanxiang Prefecture!”
“I've seen that woman before. She's from Mount Bixia. She must have some treasure on her to be chased like this.”
“Brother Wang, what do you say? Should we step in and take her down?”
The crowd gathering around was divided into three factions.
One of them was clearly from the demonic path, consisting of four people, all of whom were experts at the mid to late stages of the Anjin Rank.
Their greedy gazes locked onto Feng Zhilan's retreating figure, their expressions eager for action.
The other two factions each occupied a corner.
One side consisted of two young men with the Han family crest embroidered on their sleeves.
They stood with their arms crossed, showing no intention of intervening.
The final faction was an inner court elite from the Star-Plucking Sect's Chiming Academy, dressed in a yellow robe!
Hiding beneath a crooked old tree, his gaze swept back and forth between Feng Zhilan and Zhao Zhiqian. His brows were furrowed, yet he showed no sign of making a move.
Feng Zhilan was not a member of the Star-Plucking Sect, after all.
Intervening rashly might drag him into a dangerous situation.
He was clearly weighing whether the risk was worth the reward.
Right at this moment!
Zhao Zhiqian brandished his broadsword. The blue patterns on the blade flared with light, indicating he was truly enraged.
Force exploded beneath his feet as he lunged toward Feng Zhilan like an infuriated leopard. With saber in hand, he roared:
“Run?! Let's see where else you can run!”
His killing intent was as sharp as needles!
A chill ran down Feng Zhilan's spine. Her legs were completely spent, and her heart was filled with utter despair!
My talent is mediocre, with only a Four-Form Constitution. If I hadn't been born into the Feng Clan, I probably would never have had a chance to reach the Huajin Rank in this lifetime!
This opportunity was hard-won. I would rather die here than hand this treasure over to someone else!
With a tragic resolve in her heart, she suddenly stopped and turned around with her sword raised. A look of desperate ruthlessness flashed in her eyes as she prepared to fight to the death!
At the critical moment!
Swoosh!
A figure leaped out from the dense forest at the side of the island, landing thirty feet in front of Feng Zhilan.
He stood firm.
He raised his eyes.
His calm gaze met the incoming blade-glow.
Then, he drew his sword!
Shring!
The long sword left its scabbard!
《Flowing Cloud Swordplay: Parting the Clouds to See the Sun》!
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