Back at his inn, Leo's mood was far from light. Though he had publicly embarrassed Mist, making him think twice, someone like Mist wouldn't let this go. Leo just didn't know what methods he would use.

  Remembering the stares as he returned—awe, mockery, avoidance as if he carried plague—Leo sighed.

  Calming himself, he examined the storage pouches from the hawk-nosed elder and his companions. He started with the elder's. That man had been the most dangerous. Any disciple with a magic artifact, without top-grade defensive armor, would have fallen to him. That sword formation was devastating. If he'd had a magic artifact himself, Leo wouldn't have returned.

  "Soul Severance Art!" The elder's control of the formation showed his spiritual sense far exceeded ordinary cultivators. Leo's spiritual sense entered the jade slip, revealing ancient characters. Within lay the secrets of spiritual sense cultivation and the method for forging the Soul Severance Blade.

  "The Soul Severance Blade can actually split a person's soul in two!" Leo was stunned. Such an attack would kill or cripple, the pain unbearable. Yet this art used that very process for cultivation. Its creator was either a genius or a madman.

  Examining the pouch's contents, besides a pile of spirit stones, he found several items needed for the Soul Severance Blade.

  There were also miscellaneous techniques and manuals for various spiritual roots, along with different spirit artifacts—likely spoils from slain cultivators.

  Among them was the "Lesser Four Symbols Sword Art." Reading it, Leo sighed. The elder's formation came from this art. According to the manual, a Qi Refining cultivator couldn't master it.

  He must have accidentally obtained and cultivated the Soul Severance Art, greatly enhancing his spiritual sense. That explained it. The formation was powerful, but useless for the upcoming Bloody Battlefield. He'd consider it after Foundation Establishment.

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  There was also a mid-Foundation Establishment volume of The Primordial Chaos Scripture and a fragmentary map.

  The map's material matched the scripture's paper-like pages.

  The green-robed and stocky men's pouches held little of interest—spirit stones and tradable herbs.

  "Interesting." The old woman's pouch surprised him. Besides three black scales, there were three azure poison needles. According to the accompanying manual, these Shadowless Needles were light as hair, pierced spirit shields, and were lethal. Called "Second Sister" by the elder, she was weaker but, with these needles, second only to him in threat.

  "Lucky she was weaker. Otherwise..." Leo shuddered. Without Ice Soul Mystic Sound's spiritual attack, facing both would have been impossible.

  "This map fragment matches the elder's."

  He compared them. They fit together, forming a larger, still incomplete map.

  Its purpose was unclear, but the fact that both had kept it suggested it wasn't random. A terrain map of some location.

  He sorted the items. Spirit stones went into his boundary space. The needles he kept. Useless artifacts went into a pouch for later disposal.

  "The Soul Severance Art... I'll try it once I gather the materials." After experiencing the elder's power, Leo valued spiritual sense.

  He took healing pills. His injuries were light—the armor had absorbed most blows. Rest and pills would suffice.

  Next day, he retrieved his sword from Castwell Forge. Golden, gleaming, sharp. His spiritual sense could control it, resize it. Perfect.

  "Senior Brother Leo, satisfied?" The hammer-wielding man grinned.

  "Yes, very." Leo paid and turned to leave.

  "Wait." The man called.

  "What?"

  "You're heading to the Bloody Battlefield? You offended Mist. His son, Sylas, is going. He's formidable. And Lowell's recovered—he'll be there too." The man lowered his voice.

  "Why tell me?" Leo was surprised. Since defying Mist, even Kael had vanished. Others avoided him. This stranger's warning was unexpected.

  "Sylas and I have history. He holds grudges. Mist may be a Foundation senior, but I know his kind. I've long despised the Mists. Others feel the same, but none had your nerve—publicly humiliating him." The man grinned, admiring.

  "Corner a rabbit, it bites." Leo smiled ruefully. A sound transmission talisman arrived.

  Leo received it. A stern voice: "Azure Lotus Peak disciples registered for the Bloody Battlefield, report immediately to the mountain base. Departure in one hour."

  "Peak Master Satt's order. Go. Don't be late." The man urged.

  Leo thanked him and departed. This time, he'd reserved a spirit crane. In an incense stick's time, he reached Azure Lotus Peak. Over a dozen disciples waited. Kael, seeing Leo, seemed timid but subtly gestured. Following his hint, Leo saw a thin black-robed youth, resembling Mist, staring coldly. Leo nodded. He'd misjudged Kael.

  In this situation, Kael's subtle warning was more than most would dare.

  Ignoring Sylas and his companions' hostile glares, Leo sat apart. He didn't fear the father; why fear the son? He closed his eyes to meditate.